Chapter Forty-Two
"Move that side a bit higher! That side! Xiumu!!! Not that side!" On the winding corridor of the General's residence, Xueying pointed at Xiumu, who was perched at the top of an A-frame ladder, hopping in frustration. "Why is it so hard to get you to help with anything? Get down! I'll do it myself!"
Xiumu, her face crestfallen, clutched her skirt as she climbed down, whining pitifully, "Young Miss just keeps saying 'that side, that side,' but Xiumu doesn’t have eyes on her back—how am I supposed to know which side you mean? Besides, when has such a task ever been… Ah!" Before her feet could touch the ground, Xueying yanked her off the ladder.
Xueying had already hitched up her overly cumbersome skirt and tucked it into her waistband. Ignoring Xiumu’s near-fainting expression, she climbed the ladder herself, instructing as she went, "Xiumu, go keep watch around the corner. If anyone comes—especially my father—you must hurry back to help me down." Xiumu gave a quick nod but then asked, "What if… the young master comes?"
"Master your head!" Xueying settled firmly atop the ladder and began straightening the tangled flower garlands Xiumu had messed up. "We’re not even married yet—why call him 'young master'? He left early this morning to fetch his parents. He shouldn’t be back so soon." Xiumu muttered under her breath, "Says not to call him 'young master,' yet she’s already calling them 'his parents.'"
"What did you say?!" Xueying whipped her head around fiercely. "I heard that!" Xiumu hastily waved her hands. "Young Miss must have misheard! I said 'aunts and uncles.'" Seeing Xueying still glaring, Xiumu took a step back. "Um, Young Miss, should I go keep watch now?" "Hmph, go on," Xueying huffed, turning back to her task with satisfaction.
Ning Shuchen rounded the corner and saw this scene.
At the very top of the tall wooden ladder sat a petite young woman, arms full of colorful floral decorations as she arranged them, muttering to herself all the while.
By conventional standards, she was far from dignified. Her long black hair was simply braided into a single plait hanging at her side, and her skirt was inexplicably hitched up high, revealing the underlayer and her pale ankles. A pair of embroidered shoes, their heels crushed flat, dangled loosely from her toes, swaying playfully with every wiggle of her feet—it all looked rather amusing.
Once she finished arranging the flowers, Xueying carefully stood up and began hanging them section by section along the eaves. "...Father is so stingy, making me so short (Ling Yuguang: >_<). If only I were taller, I wouldn’t need this stupid ladder..."
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