Yearning For Warmth, Day and Night - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Misunderstanding

After going upstairs, Eleven took a shower. Standing under the cold water, she completely calmed down and felt that she had been overly sentimental. From an outsider’s perspective, her current situation did look like she was being kept by someone, and although she knew it wasn’t true, others didn’t. So what right did she have to feel wronged?

She shook her head, the cold water pouring down on her forehead, the chill making her feel entirely awake. Back when she was with other owners, she barely had enough to eat or wear, and always had to be cautious, guarding against the male masters like a thief. It was the Third Miss who brought her back, gave her good food, drink, and shelter. Now she was feeling stifled just because of a few gossiping remarks? That was truly excessive sentimentality. Thinking of this, Eleven shed her anxiety, turned off the cold water, and turned on the warm water to wash again.

When she came out of the bathroom, there was already someone else in the room, standing in front of the bed, looking down at something. Eleven walked over and called, “Aunt Zhang?”

Her voice was always soft and timid, a bit shy even. Despite having been wronged earlier downstairs, she didn’t take it out on anyone. Aunt Zhang turned around, her face devoid of any smile, and said, “I knocked just now, but you didn’t respond, so I came in.”

She had stopped calling her “Miss.”

Eleven didn’t really care about that, but she could clearly feel that Aunt Zhang’s attitude toward her had changed. In the morning, she was still gentle and smiling, but in the afternoon, she became cold and distant. Eleven bit her lip. “I was in the shower.”

Aunt Zhang nodded. “Mm. Have some milk.”

Eleven took the glass she handed over, drank it in one gulp, and returned it to her, saying, “Aunt Zhang.”

She tightened her grip on the cup and asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

Aunt Zhang turned to look at her and saw her slightly uneasy expression. She opened her mouth to speak, but remembered the ring she had found in Eleven’s pocket that afternoon. Judging by its style and quality, it was clearly expensive—something someone like Eleven shouldn’t have. Combined with what the others had been saying about theft, she suspected that Eleven had stolen it.

She had worked in the Wei household for nearly ten years and cared for Wei Hui like her own child. If Eleven were just an ordinary girl and if the Third Miss had a certain preference, she might have turned a blind eye. But now Eleven appeared to be a thief.

That she couldn’t tolerate.

Xiao Cui was right—someone like that, kept around, gives people the creeps. She definitely shouldn’t be left near the Third Miss. Sooner or later, she’d bring trouble.

Seeing Eleven still staring at her, Aunt Zhang changed what she had planned to say and instead said, “How could Miss be at fault? If there’s a mistake, it must be us servants who are at fault.”

“Don’t take what you heard downstairs to heart. They were just chatting idly, no harm meant.”

“The Third Miss is kind and generous, so please, Miss, keep your hands clean. Don’t bring trouble to her.”

Her words made Eleven’s face turn slightly pale. It was hard to explain the ring situation, and her relationship with Wei Hui was already being misunderstood. She was never good with words, and now being falsely accused again, all she could do was keep repeating, “Aunt Zhang, I didn’t—”

Aunt Zhang turned her head and coldly interrupted, “You didn’t what? You didn’t steal?”

Eleven choked on her words, unable to say anything. Her chest tightened with a stifling, bitter feeling that made her want to punch herself to relieve it. Aunt Zhang shook her head. “Take care of yourself, Miss.”

As the door closed, Eleven collapsed onto the edge of the bed. She reached for the clothes by the bed, and from them, pulled out the ring.

The household servants misunderstood her. Even Aunt Zhang thought that way. What about the Third Miss?

Did she think the same?

If she really believed she was a thief, then why had she brought her home?

Had she started to hate her?

Perhaps it was the sting of the earlier accusations, but Eleven, clutching the ring, rushed to Wei Hui’s room. She desperately wanted to explain. Normally, she could endure any misunderstanding, but the thought that Wei Hui might misunderstand her without knowing the truth made her want to clear things up.

Maybe it was because Wei Hui meant something different to her than others.

Wei Hui had saved her from a hellish life, treated her well, and protected her outside.

Eleven rushed to the door, opened it, and took a few quick steps forward. She saw Wei Hui standing at the doorway, with Aunt Zhang holding a glass of milk beside her. Wei Hui took a sip and coughed twice. Aunt Zhang asked with concern, “Miss, have you caught a chill?”

Wei Hui’s voice was cool, “Caught a bit of wind on the way back.”

Aunt Zhang looked anxious. “Should I make some ginger tea?”

Wei Hui shook her head. “No need.”

She handed the glass back to Aunt Zhang and said softly, “A good night’s rest will do.”

Seeing her pale face and light cough, Eleven suddenly thought of the time in the car when she had a high fever, her delicate face contorted in pain. Since Wei Hui wasn’t feeling well now, it was best not to disturb her.

With that thought, Eleven quietly took a few steps back—but Wei Hui had already seen her.

Wei Hui tilted her head and spotted Eleven in a white nightdress, her long wet hair draping over her back. Drops of water clung to her eyelashes, glistening under the light. Her clear, beautiful eyes were wide open, the pupils pitch black and bright.

She spoke: “Eleven?”

Caught off guard, Eleven instinctively hid her hands behind her back, the ring digging into her fingers, painfully.

Wei Hui looked down and noticed her bare feet and her toes curling inward nervously. She blinked. “What is it?”

Her tone wasn’t as cold as it had been in the car, but it wasn’t warm either—just calm, with an air of authority. Eleven stared at her, then glanced at Aunt Zhang beside her, biting her lip. “Nothing. Good night, Third Miss.”

She turned around and went back to her room.

The door closed gently. She leaned against it, bringing her hand from behind her back to her chest. The ring sparkled under the chandelier’s light.

Aunt Zhang had been right.

She was just a thief.

So what reason did she have to defend herself?

Eleven squatted behind the door, hugging her arms, her shoulders trembling. A cold wind blew in through the half-open window, dispersing the warmth in the room.

Outside the door, Aunt Zhang’s expression darkened. She said to Wei Hui, “Miss, you’re not feeling well—go rest.”

Wei Hui, having just taken her medicine, was too exhausted to argue. Though she could tell Eleven had something to say, she didn’t have the energy to listen, so she nodded. “Okay, you may go.”

Aunt Zhang replied, “Yes, Miss.”

Back in her room, Wei Hui took off her robe and coughed again. A flush of unnatural red crept across her cheeks. She leaned against the bed, opened the locked drawer by the bedside, retrieved her medicine, and took two pills. Her heartbeat slowly returned to normal, and the redness faded, leaving her face unusually pale.

Holding up the medicine bottle, she stared at the label for a while before locking it back in the drawer.

Nine o’clock was her usual bedtime—she never missed it. But tonight, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Maybe it was the aftereffects of the episode earlier, but she felt unsettled. After a while, she got up and went to her desk, picked up her phone, and called Su Ziyan.

The call connected. Su Ziyan’s cheerful voice came through: “Shouldn’t you be resting at this hour?”

“Mm,” she answered mildly, then asked, “Did the report on that child come out?”

After saying that, she coughed lightly. Her body weak, she sat down at the desk, resting her hand on her forehead. Her vision blurred. Su Ziyan’s voice came and went: “It’s out. Tomorrow…”

She could only catch parts of it. Her ears buzzed. After resting for a few minutes, her vision cleared again, and she heard Su Ziyan ask, “What’s wrong?”

Wei Hui replied faintly, “Nothing. I went to a gathering tonight and had a couple of drinks.”

As soon as she said that, she moved the phone away from her ear—just in time for Su Ziyan’s raised voice: “Are you trying to kill yourself?!”

“How are you feeling now? Any discomfort? Should I come over?”

Wei Hui responded softly, “No need. I’ve already taken my medicine.”

Hearing that, Su Ziyan grunted but still reminded her worriedly, “If anything happens, call me.”

“No, you’re coming in for a check-up tomorrow, no excuses. You missed last month’s health exam. Can’t delay this month too. You’re going to get that kid’s report anyway, so bring them along. If anyone asks, I’ll say it’s the child’s check-up.”

Wei Hui clutched her phone, her face tightening. After a few seconds, she finally said, “Okay. I understand.”

Su Ziyan gave a final warning: “No later than 9 a.m. If you don’t come, I’ll show up at your company.”

Knowing that was his final limit, Wei Hui murmured, “I understand.”

After hanging up, she coughed again. Her hand on her forehead felt the heat lingering—a low fever. Tomorrow, she’d definitely get a scolding from Su Ziyan.

Just thinking about what he might say made her already aching head throb even more.

She barely slept that night. At dawn, she woke up in a daze, her body still uncomfortable. Once the worst passed, she sat up, washed quickly, and went downstairs. She saw Eleven sitting on the sofa, her figure small and frail.

Hearing footsteps, Eleven turned and saw Wei Hui in a light-colored home outfit. Perhaps because of her illness, her complexion was pale with faint dark circles under her eyes. Eleven immediately stood and greeted, “Good morning, Third Miss.”

Wei Hui turned to her and nodded, calling, “Aunt Zhang.”

Aunt Zhang quickly came out of the kitchen. “Miss, you’re awake.”

Wei Hui rubbed her temples. “Get me some water.”

Aunt Zhang responded, just about to fetch it, when Eleven turned and handed over a cup from the coffee table. “Third Miss, I just poured this. It’s warm.”

Wei Hui didn’t take it. She simply raised her eyes to glance at her. Aunt Zhang quickly stepped forward and took the cup from Eleven’s hands. “The Miss doesn’t like cups that others have touched. I’ll get you a new one.”

Eleven’s hands dropped to her sides. She wanted to explain that she knew Wei Hui always drank a glass of water before breakfast, that she had washed this cup many times and even guessed the perfect temperature. But her clumsy tongue failed her. After trying twice, her words were swallowed by Aunt Zhang’s fast-paced explanation.

“Give it to me,” Wei Hui said.

Aunt Zhang froze for a few seconds. “Miss, I’ll—”

“No need,” Wei Hui said plainly. “Just give it to me.”

Left with no choice, Aunt Zhang handed her the cup and glanced at Eleven, whose expression had changed from shock to something more unreadable.

Eleven watched Wei Hui take a sip of the water. The sunlight spilled over the sofa, falling on her and illuminating her pale skin until it looked almost translucent. When she tilted her head, her elegant swan neck and perfect collarbones were revealed.

Eleven’s surprise slowly faded, transforming into another kind of emotion.

Wei Hui was willing to drink her water.

She was willing to accept her gesture of goodwill.

Did that mean… she didn’t truly hate her?