YCY - 1

Leaning against the banana tree in the courtyard, I occasionally pulled at the coarse palm fibers on its trunk. They were rough and sharp enough to cut my hands. I raised my head and gazed at the lush, fan-like leaves swaying lazily in the summer breeze. Each leaf seemed to hold a story, tender and full of life. The warm wind toyed with the strands of hair brushing my forehead. I lifted a hand to brush away the ticklish sensation, took a step back, and picked up a fallen banana flower lying in the dust. My mind wandered: “Luo Chen, Luo Chen—since I’ve been reborn into this world, since I’ve lived twice as a human, let the past remain in the past. Now is what I should cherish.”

“Miss, Miss!” A crisp voice broke through the last traces of heat. A figure in pale yellow pushed aside the low-hanging banana leaves, her delicate face tinged with faint reproach. “Miss has come to hide under the banana tree again?” She scooped me up effortlessly. “Madam has been looking for you all morning. I had to ask Old Lady Xu from the front courtyard to find you, you little sprite.” Her slender fingers gently tapped my cheek.

“Huamei, I just came out for some fresh air and to stretch my legs,” I mimicked the petulant tone of a five-year-old. “When I saw how much taller the banana tree had grown, I came over to compare heights with it.” I batted my eyelashes and wrapped my arms around Huamei’s neck, nuzzling her face. “Huamei, didn’t you say that if you eat more, you’ll grow taller? Why can’t I catch up with this banana tree?” I puffed out my cheeks and pointed accusingly at the tree, pretending to be upset.

“Ho ho, Miss, trees are trees, and people are people. You can’t compare them,” Huamei teased. The rich scent of her rouge wafted toward me, and I instinctively leaned closer to sniff it. “Oh dear, what a strange child you are!” She gently pushed my cheek away, chiding me playfully. “If Madam sees this, who knows what she’ll say about the servants spoiling you.”

I rested my forehead against Huamei’s pointed chin, gazing at the receding scenery as we moved. This was my home in this life, the place where I’d landed after my rebirth. “Miss, are you sleepy?” Huamei’s soft voice whispered in my ear. I shook my head lightly and nestled into her arms. “I just want to grow up faster.” For someone like me with memories of a past life, pretending to be an innocent child was exhausting.

“How could such a darling miss grow up so quickly?” The fragrance of orchids drifted from Huamei. “You’re Madam’s precious treasure, and General Han treasures you so much he’d pinch you into a ball and tuck you into his sleeve if he could.” Her light laughter echoed through the air.

“Good day, Miss. Good day, Young Lady.” A passing servant boy bowed respectfully by the corridor. “Mm, go inform Nong Mo that I’ve found the young miss,” Huamei said with a wave of her hand. The boy nodded and left.

I clasped my hands together, pouting. “Didn’t she go home today?” Nong Mo was formidable—a thorn in my side. “Afraid of her, are you? Only Nong Mo can handle you!” Huamei straightened me in her arms, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Early this morning, just as Nong Mo stepped out, her older brother sent word through the gatekeeper. Seems there’s trouble at her sister-in-law’s family, so she won’t be able to return home today.” Darn. I’d thought she’d already left, leaving me free to enjoy myself indoors. But no—just when I thought I was safe, the monkey king returned from patrol. What now?

“The mere mention of Nong Mo’s name sends our little miss jumping like a mouse spotting a cat! Ho ho ho~” Huamei’s melodious laughter filled the air. I squirmed in her arms, pouting at her uncontrollable giggles.

“I heard your voice from afar, you little troublemaker.” A striking figure in red approached—slender shoulders, a narrow waist, willowy brows, and phoenix eyes. Uh-oh. I ducked into Huamei’s embrace.

“Just a moment ago, Miss managed to slip away from two maids and an attendant, wandering off to Mingxin Pavilion.” As the crimson figure drew near, I clung tightly to Huamei’s neck, refusing to let go. Suddenly, I felt a ticklish sensation under my arm, as if ants were marching across my skin. “Hahaha, hahaha! Nong Mo, spare me this time!” Instinctively, I loosened my grip and curled up, only to be snatched into her arms.

“How dare we lowly servants allow Miss to beg for mercy?” Nong Mo’s tone turned acidic—a dangerous sign. I bit my finger and looked up at her with the most pitiful expression I could muster. “Nong Mo, don’t be angry. It’s my fault. I apologize sincerely.”

“Hmph!” Her phoenix eyes narrowed, and her delicate face hardened with frost. “How many times have you apologized this month? Do you know your disappearance cost Zhu Yun, Mother Liu, and Mother Shen their monthly stipends?” I froze, staring blankly at her earnest gaze. Glancing at Huamei, I saw her nod slightly. “Though Madam is kind-hearted, she becomes anxious and loses her temper when it comes to matters concerning you.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, lowering my head in shame. I’d forgotten this wasn’t the world I once knew, forgotten the rigid hierarchy between people here. Nestled in Nong Mo’s arms, I furrowed my brows and sighed softly.

“Miss needn’t feel too troubled—it’s also their fault for not watching you closely enough,” Nong Mo’s clear voice chimed like jade bells. “Stop rubbing your forehead; you’ve smudged the cinnabar dot we applied this morning.” She wiped my brow with a handkerchief. “As long as Miss behaves better from now on, we’ll be content.”

I nodded obediently, leaning heavily against her chest, peering at the gradually receding courtyard. On either side of the gate hung a couplet. The upper line read: “Dreams are fleeting and unreal, like the heart of the banana tree.” The lower line responded: “Feelings are true yet illusory, akin to the reflection of water and moonlight.” The heart of the banana tree, the reflection of water and moon—searching and seeking, all for clarity of mind. Mingxin Pavilion, cultivating virtue—this must be the Han family’s generational wisdom.

“Qingqing!” As soon as we entered Liufeng Pavilion, a heartfelt call floated toward us. “You little one, where have you run off to? You’ve worried your mother to death!” Nong Mo carefully set me down, and I dashed forward on my short legs, throwing myself into Mother’s arms. Blissful. Soft, fragrant, and utterly trusting—I indulged in the warmth of my beautiful mother. “Mother, Qingqing was just wandering around the house. Nothing to worry about.” Indeed, my mother was exquisite—graceful as a gentle breeze, serene as a willow. Her brows carried a trace of melancholy, her cloud-like hair framing porcelain cheeks, radiant as the autumn moon. Ten years from now, I too would grow into a beauty—not necessarily one to topple kingdoms, but captivating enough to charm a city. At the thought, I couldn’t help but chuckle smugly.

“Mother, Sister is giggling foolishly again,” a voice cracked with adolescence called out. I stuck my tongue out at the handsome youth sitting nearby, his demeanor noble and clear. “It’s not foolishness—it’s happiness because I have such a beautiful mother!” With that, I burrowed back into Mother’s embrace.

“Only your sweet talk knows how to comfort others,” my older brother teased, lifting his robe to sit on a stone bench. He popped a cherry into my mouth and smiled warmly at me. Mmm, even half-grown, he was dazzling—like the morning star piercing the dawn sky.

The sweet aroma lingered on my tongue. I gazed adoringly at him, cooing, “More!”

“Ho ho~” Huamei stifled a giggle behind her hand. “What is it?” Mother frowned slightly, curious.

“Madam, Huamei was reminded of a nursery rhyme from her hometown,” she explained, her lips curving into a smile. “Artemisia leaves, fragrant throughout the hall. Peach branches hang on the gates; stepping outside, wheat turns golden. Fifth day of the fifth month, auspicious Yang. Gates adorned with artemisia, fragrance fills the hall.” Everyone applauded, and Huamei knelt beside me, grinning. “Eat rice dumplings, sprinkle white sugar. The whitest sugar in Youguo tastes the sweetest. Eat one, take two. If Mother denies, tears fall like rain. Furrowing brows, crying and singing: Mother looks at me, thinner than a cucumber, not an ounce of flesh on my bones. Mother laughs, saying, ‘You’re not thin—you just have a face thicker than city walls!’”

Her witty words sent everyone into fits of laughter. Mother held her stomach, wiping my mouth. “Qingqing is truly the apple of my eye, ho ho.”

“Huamei speaks well—it’s exactly our little Qingqing!” Brother grinned widely. “Greedy little kitten, be careful or you’ll grow into a chubby girl no one will want.”

I shot him a glare. “If no one wants this chubby girl, I’ll stay at home, eating and drinking off my brother until he grows thinner than a cucumber.” Turning away, I fixed my gaze on Huamei, reciting softly: “Shallow sleep, cool awakening. Pushing aside pearl curtains, gazing at the mirror, unclear reflections. Ask Huamei, is the sun high yet? Birds remain silent.”

The laughter died down abruptly as everyone stared at me in astonishment. I clasped my hands behind my back, my childish voice ringing out once more: “After finishing her makeup, she opens the window, laughter spilling forth. Yet, the young man departs. Turning back, she asks Huamei, why does he seem so surprised? The maid’s heart trembles; she kneels hastily: ‘Miss, it’s all Huamei’s carelessness.’” I cast her a cool glance, continuing solemnly: “Miss frowns slightly: ‘What is it?’ Huamei lowers her eyes, whispering: ‘Charcoal pencil.’”

Curiosity gleamed in their eyes as I flashed an innocent smile. “Miss touches her brow urgently, asking: ‘Did you draw?’ I scampered into Mother’s arms, exclaiming loudly: ‘Huamei gasps: No drawing!’ Wide-eyed, I glared indignantly at the woman in yellow.”

At first, the pavilion erupted in shock, then amusement, and finally bursts of laughter. Mother cradled me on her lap, her laughter trembling like flowers in the breeze. “Qingqing, who taught you this?”

Proudly tilting my head, I declared, “No one—I made it up on the spot.” Pouting, I pretended to sulk.

The laughter stopped. Eyes wide with surprise and curiosity fixed on me. I realized my mistake: how could a five-year-old who hasn’t learned to read compose such verses? How would I explain myself now?