My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 535 - 352: Your servant’s name is Qian’er, a delicate body born in Zhao Mansion (Part 1)

Chapter 535: Chapter 352: Your servant’s name is Qian’er, a delicate body born in Zhao Mansion (Part 1)

Zhao Qian’er suddenly took a liking to holding hands, and also, to his attentive gaze.

Just like not long ago, when she became fond of Rong’er’s abdominal muscles, simply touching them, experiencing them, and then she liked them.

The little girl couldn’t clearly articulate why; her likes and dislikes followed her heart.

So her fondness was merely pure fondness.

A wholehearted fondness.

Just like a swing.

When she was little, still a maid with short legs and a round face, she sneaked to the Duke Mansion’s kitchen to ’steal’ something for the young miss to eat. On the way, she suddenly saw a girl of the same age dressed in luxurious clothes flying back and forth on a plank, and her steps gradually slowed. She squatted down hugging her knees, watching quietly for a long, long time.

Then, sensing that she was about to be discovered, she twisted her body and ran back with her short legs, ultimately finding Rong’er, who was ’wandering’ in the vegetable garden. She looked at him, rolling her eyes, with her little hands behind her back, loudly declaring that she wanted to fly, fly high up.

She looked eagerly at Zhao Rong, who was holding the ’picked’ melon in his arms.

Then, as if to threaten, she looked around left and right and opened her mouth as though she would shout.

Seeing this, Zhao Rong took the watermelon in one hand, which had inadvertently rolled to the side of the road, blocking his path and which he had picked up with a pure good intention, thinking to help the owner put it in a different place.

With the other hand, he pulled the sniffing and cheerfully shaking Zhao Qian’er away.

Later, the two of them shared the big watermelon that had just accidentally hit a stone and cracked.

While eating the watermelon, Zhao Rong brought her, who was likewise burying her head in eating, to the mountain summit behind, seriously pointed to a cliff that looked very steep, and gestured by tapping his chin.

Zhao Qian’er pouted her lips, took a deep breath, and took a step forward, kicking him hard in the shin, wishing she could kick him off the cliff for a high-flying experience.

Of course, she didn’t have that much strength.

So Zhao Qian’er held onto Zhao Rong’s hands again and ran down the mountain in the opposite direction, running to where the little girl dressed in luxurious clothes was flying. They stopped at a distance, full of longing, and then she pointed it out to Zhao Rong.

Zhao Rong shook his head and turned to leave, so she squatted down hugging her knees with her head buried, and lifted a hand to tug at the corner of his small scholar’s robe, refusing to leave.

The two of them remained in silence, one squatting and one standing.

Back then, Rong’er was recognized as the son of Aunt Liu, a child belonging to the tributaries within the mansion and considered half a young master.

Whereas she was just a little maid, even if it was attending to the young misses of the fourth household in the mansion.

But at that time, the mother of the young miss had just passed away, the master of the fourth household had been absent for a long time, and the fourth household was isolated and neglected. No need to mention that the fourth household only had this one young and orphaned daughter. Only the old dowager occasionally showed some concern, sending some food and clothing, but this was nowhere near comparable to the treatment of the legitimate sons.

As such, Zhao Qian’er, this little maid, in the Duke Mansion which was already conforming to the Confucian ethos of Great Chu, couldn’t hold a candle to Zhao Rong, the son of a Cultivator tribute.

But she was so bold and stubborn, stubbornly insistent that Zhao Rong obtain for her this magical object that flew back and forth, which Zhao Qian’er had taken a liking to at first sight, something that lingered in her head and refused to leave.

Zhao Qian’er was so mischievous, so petulant, without any reason, just because he was Rong’er.

Zhao Qian’er at the time, knew she was only a little maid.

Ever since she could remember, she had been a maid, a little one at that, and also one without parents.

And indeed, if she had had parents, how could they have abandoned her shortly after her birth and let the Duke Mansion take her in as a servant?

At the very least, they would have let Qian’er grow a little bit, accumulate some memories before selling her, to see whether she was an ugly girl or one who ate too much, whether she was worth raising or not.

At least let Qian’er have some memories, recognize her parents’ faces, so that after being sold to the Duke Mansion as a servant, she could have something to think about and miss, some fruitless wishful thinking, and if there was a chance of recognition in the future, she could rekindle some kinship, even if it was just for the sake of asking Qian’er for her hard-earned, severely docked monthly salary.

In the Duke Mansion of Jingnan, many maids and servants were in such situations, and some, even luckier, managed to keep in touch with their outside families.

Hmm, that’s the most ’heartless’ parents she could think of while curled up in her blankets as a child, yes, even so, that was something Zhao Qian’er envied, something that allowed her to cover her mouth with laughter and squint her eyes while in bed.

Because if that really were her situation, Zhao Qian’er wouldn’t blame them; she could understand, as going hungry was truly uncomfortable, and selling a maid might be the best solution after all.

As for the best parents, of course, it was Aunt Liu, Rong’er’s mother.

But what was the situation for someone without parents from the beginning of their memory?

Zhao Qian’er didn’t believe there were parents crueler than those described above.

Zhao Qian’er didn’t believe there were parents who, upon giving birth, took one look at her wrinkled and bloody infant face and without a single nurturing thought, discarded her like waste.

Hmm, placing her at the doorstep of a wealthy family’s house, at a not too bad location, seemed to be the extent of their kindness. Anything beyond that was just leaving things to fate, with both parties severed of any further connection.

As for the wasted basket of vegetables and the narrow, torn cloth that wrapped her body, it seemed to be all for the sake of decency, their decency, so they covered up this ’stranger’ fresh from the womb, to prevent anyone from seeing their littering.

This was no longer just indifference, but... treating her only as a hardship borne from ten months of pregnancy, a piece of rotten flesh cut from their bodies, filled with nothing but pain, devoid of affection, not even the sentiment of indifference.