She was the most cherished little darling in the Meng household.
Her sweet little mouth could melt anyone’s heart, and her hands were as soft as glutinous rice cakes. She walked at an unhurried pace, and even when she spoke, she drew out her words in a babyish lilt, like the slow, lingering chirp of cicadas on a summer night, winding its way into people’s hearts.
Everyone in the household thought she was harmless. She never fought or grasped for anything, always seeming lazy and a little silly, yet she could silence anyone with a single remark.
He once said, “Fourth Miss is the most precious little lucky star in the Meng household!”
When they were children, he would coax her into taking her medicine, spoonful by spoonful, with chilled milk custard. When they grew up, all he wanted was to marry that little bundle of sweetness himself, keep her close to his heart, and never let anyone else look at her for too long.
He was a notorious little tyrant, hot-tempered and quick to throw a punch, someone who dared to provoke anyone. Yet whenever he was around her, he turned into a puppy. He couldn’t bear to see her eyes redden or tears fall, and would have gladly given her the whole world just to make her smile.
Everyone thought she was soft and easy to bully. Who would have guessed that one innocent, silly remark from the little girl could pierce everyone’s heart?
He had always done as he pleased. She was his one and only weakness.
“Don’t cry. I’ll get down on my knees if I have to.”
“The Fourth Miss of the Meng household is the lucky star of my life, and the only treasure in my heart.”
From childhood sweethearts who bickered and wrestled,
to one sudden stirring of the heart, then falling deeper with every step
Only then did he realize that her tenderness wasn’t an act. It was woven into her very bones.
