Eine eisige Aura

Kapitel 11

Seeing that she looked slightly tipsy, Wang Gang guessed that she was probably drunk, so he said calmly, "The lotus has always been known for its noble character, rising from the mud unsullied and pure, and the white lotus is the purest and most flawless variety of lotus, so naturally no one dislikes it."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the person opposite him smashed the plate.

"Why? Why?!" Large tears welled up in Pang Wan's eyes. Her face was red, her nose was red, and her whole body was as red as a shrimp pulled out of boiling water.

"Wang Gang!" she suddenly shouted, reaching out to grab Wang Gang's sleeve, startling him so much that he jumped up from his chair.

"Wang Gang!" she called out again, her lips pursed so deeply that they could hardly contain their pain, her expression one of utter grievance and pitifulness.

"Why isn't it me? It should be mine! It should all be mine! Mine!" Tears streamed down her cheeks like a waterfall, seeping into her neck and soaking large patches of her clothes. "Why am I her? Why isn't she me?"

Her incoherent ramblings grew louder and louder, attracting curious onlookers who began to peer into her direction.

Wang Gang couldn't stand it any longer and reached out to grab Pang Wan's collar.

To everyone's surprise, Pang Wan took the opportunity to roll up his sleeve, wiped her snot and tears haphazardly, and kept whimpering, "Wang Gang, your little master is suffering! So suffering!"

Wang Gang glanced at the messy sleeves and gritted his teeth, reminding, "Young Master, if you have something to say, let's go back and talk..."

But Pang Wan shook her head and said, "It's no use! Going back won't help! You don't understand the bitterness in my heart..."

Unable to bear it any longer, Wang Gang slapped her unconscious and dragged her out of the restaurant.

Walking under the peach tree

That night, Pang Wan had a rather unsettling dream. In the dream, a perfect couple walked towards her hand in hand, laughing and gazing at each other with deep affection.

"Wanwan, I, Gu Xiju, have finally found the love of my life. Let's part ways here!" The handsome young man in white robes waved to her with great elegance. "From now on, let's forget each other in the world and never meet again!"

Pang Wan was very unwilling. She ran forward and grabbed the woman's shoulder, wanting to see who the third party was.

This sight was terrifying; she screamed in terror—the woman had no facial features; her entire head was a white lotus!

The sudden startle woke me up, and when I got up, I saw that the sun was already high in the sky.

"Young master is awake? Would you like to take a bath?" Wang Gang stood by the window hanging clothes to dry, beaming with joy.

"Was I drunk yesterday?" Pang Wan rubbed her aching head. "Did I cause you any trouble?"

Wang Gang was taken aback, then shook his head vigorously: "The young master's affairs are my affairs."

Pang Wan chuckled: "When did you become so obsequious? You didn't sell yourself to me!"

To everyone's surprise, Wang Gang knelt down with a thud: "This humble servant is willing to sell himself to his master!" As he spoke, he pulled out a piece of paper from his bosom, "This humble servant has been looking forward to this day for a very long time, and even the contract of sale has been prepared long ago!"

Pang Wan peeked out and dazedly glanced at the indenture. Sure enough, it was written clearly in black and white, only lacking her signature.

"Buying steamed buns isn't a rush, selling myself is more urgent than anyone else!" she muttered, not taking the contract of servitude. "What's so good about being a servant for life?" Yawning, she got off the bed and stretched lazily with utter rudeness. "Don't sell! Don't sell!"

Seeing her walk away without a care, Wang Gang disappointedly put the note back in his pocket.

After washing up and having breakfast, Wang Gang very attentively brought over steaming hot meat buns. Pang Wan smiled so much that her eyes narrowed: "You're a promising young man."

Wang Gang took the opportunity to reach into his own clothes, but Pang Wan glared at him and said, "No forced buying or selling!"

So he withdrew his hand with a pained expression.

As the two were eating breakfast, Wang Gang suddenly said, "Young Master, you've been away for so long, don't you miss your family?"

Pang Wan was drinking eight-treasure porridge, mumbling, "They can't wait for me to come out and gain experience."

Wang Gang's eyes flickered: "Could it be that the young master comes from a martial arts family?"

Pang Wan didn't say anything and continued drinking her porridge.

Seeing that she looked normal, Wang Gang asked again, "It seems that the young master is also skilled in martial arts. May I ask which school or sect she belongs to?"

Pang Wan chuckled, grinning at him, her two little tiger teeth gleaming: "You've got some nerve, trying to trick me into talking?"

Wang Gang's expression remained unchanged, and he said seriously, "Having followed the young master for so long, it's inevitable that I'm curious. Gossip is human nature, so please don't take offense, young master."

Pang Wan wasn't angry. She slowly finished the last mouthful of porridge and wiped her oily mouth with a handkerchief.

"Hmph, your young master's reputation is too big, it's terrifying to say it out loud! In order not to scare you to death, I'll keep the answer to myself for now!" She left with those words and strode away, leaving Wang Gang standing there, fuming.

After dinner, Wang Gang thought his young master would continue practicing the "Sang Chan's Graceful Demeanor," but Pang Wan stopped him and went to the market to buy the Four Treasures of the Study.

"Is the young master going to start learning calligraphy and painting?" He placed the brushes, inkstones and inkstones one by one on the desk, feeling genuinely curious.

"I am about to leave this small town, and today I am inspired to write poetry." Pang Wan stared intently at the Xuan paper, a strange resolute look on his face.

"Is the young master preparing to set off?" Wang Gang asked calmly.

"I want to write a poem for those who abandoned me, to commemorate the love that has passed away here." Pang Wan replied irrelevantly, her whole being enveloped in a hazy, dreamlike light.

Wang Gang was taken aback. He thought to himself that in the month or so that his young master had been listening to stories and looking in the mirror, and had not spoken more than ten sentences to any man, how could he have been abandoned and had a lost love?

He could never have imagined that this journey "from unrequited love to passionate love and then to heartbreak" was completed by Pang Wan alone.

Pang Wan held a brush and wrote ten large characters on the paper in one go: "Big hand holding little hand, walking under the peach blossom tree." He signed it "Gu Lang and I."

The character “顾” was written very hastily, so Wang Gang bent down to try and get a better look at it.

But then Pang flicked his pen, and several large drops of ink splattered onto his face.

"Oh dear, I didn't mean to." Pang Wan looked at him with an extremely innocent expression, pouting her red lips toward the corner. "There's water over there, go wash your face!"

Wang Gang smiled slightly, took a handkerchief from the shelf, moistened it with water, and wiped his cheeks.