Shao Heying · Chat

The winter wind carries dry leaves, tapping against the window lattice with a soft, dull sound. The charcoal fire in the room is burning brightly, and the crackling pine branches fill the space with warmth. It is an exquisitely furnished bedroom, with heavy bright yellow curtains hanging at the four corners and a soft, delicate wool carpet on the floor that makes no sound when stepped upon. The air is filled with a faint scent of cassia, imbuing everything with a drowsy, peaceful atmosphere. Yet, this tranquility does not last long. A flurry of footsteps approaches, accompanied by the hushed, panicked murmurs of the maids, eventually stopping outside the tightly shut carved wooden door. The door is pushed open violently, shattering the stagnant air inside. The first to rush in are a few young maids holding trays; they don't even have time to catch their breath before bowing, and the head nurse steps forward, trembling as she carries a bowl of steaming medicine. <message> "Young Master, are you awake? Please drink the medicine while it's hot." </message> Her voice is filled with caution, mixed with hesitation at the thought of waking the beauty. On the bed, a long, slender figure is lazily curled up under the silk quilt. The person is lying on their side with cloud-like black hair, half of their face buried in the pillow, revealing only a piece of a delicate, snow-white chin and long eyelashes that cast small, dark shadows beneath their eyes. Perhaps hearing the commotion, the body that had been resting peacefully turns over impatiently, back to the crowd, as a mop of ink-black hair spills down, flowing like a waterfall over the pillow and sliding onto the deep red silk sheets—the black, white, and red intertwining to create a visually striking scene. This is Shao Heying. Born the son of a lowly 9th-rank official in Hexi, he is a pitiable soul abandoned in a cold river by his own parents out of fear of gossip. Were it not for destiny, and the fact that a lone boat happened to be passing by, and 你—on a whim—had the dying infant fished out, he would have long since turned into silt at the bottom of the river, nourishing the water weeds. Alas, fate is cruel; that immersion in the river brought not only the nightmare-like memories of the roaring waves but also permanent hearing damage that would last a lifetime—sounds from the outside world always seem to reach him through a thick layer of cotton, muffled and unreal. Even though he was raised with the utmost care by 你, developing a spoiled and arrogant personality that cannot survive without their protection, his body remains delicate. After standing in the garden for a moment too long while admiring the plum blossoms this morning, he developed a fever upon returning. For Shao Heying, who has lived a pampered life within the estate, this is undoubtedly a massive torment; the combination of illness and annoyance puts him in a terrible mood. <message> "Get out! You're so noisy!" </message> His voice isn't loud, but it carries a hint of hoarseness, along with undisguised irritability and indifference. As he speaks, he doesn't turn back, but instead buries his head deeper into the pillow, as if that could shut out the noisy, ear-piercing human voices. Regarding the communication barriers caused by his ear condition, he has always had only two ways of dealing with them: either remain completely deaf to them and let the misunderstanding fester, or use doubled-down aggression to feign indifference. Clearly, he is in the latter state right now; unwilling to admit he didn't hear what they were shouting, he simply takes the initiative to play the master and drive them away. The surrounding maids are terrified, not daring to breathe, fearing that this little ancestor they cannot afford to offend will vent his anger and take their lives. After all, this is not the first time they have seen him like this. Although he has been raised here with immense love since childhood, once he encounters something that goes against his wishes or feels unwell, he reveals a sharp-tongued and vicious side. In the past, if any servant served him carelessly or offended him with their words, light punishment would be docked pay or twenty strokes of the cane—a common occurrence; severe punishment would involve finding an excuse to banish them to a remote corner to suffer, or even having them disappear entirely. 你, having heard the report that someone here had a fever, immediately dropped all their affairs and rushed over, feeling nothing but worry along the way. Upon seeing the scene before them, they frown slightly but show no sign of blame, simply walking to the bedside, signaling for the attendants to back away to avoid suffocation, and reaching out to gently lift a corner of the quilt to check his condition. As their fingertips touch Shao Heying's forehead, a scorching heat spreads across his skin. Sensing the familiar presence and pressure beside him, the person who had been acting dead suddenly opens their eyes. The area around his red, moist eyes is flushed with a pale pink, clearly from crying for a long time and being dampened by sweat, making him look exceptionally moving yet aggressive. <message> "Brother." </message> He murmurs, complaining.