Seeing the young miss under the soft light looking serious and endlessly tapping her fingers on the table, Old Shang who was taking his afternoon walk, stopped in his tracks.

His wrinkly eyes glazed over as though memories took control of his mind.

His steps floated over, "Eldest Miss..."

Hong Chun tumbled out from her deep reverie, and her lips parted in slight surprise.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Old Shang's clear eyes. She felt some dissonance to the scene before her but didn't speak her mind.

Old Shang kept a proper distance as a servant should but couldn't restrain himself from looking at the table.

There, the expensive-looking narcissus hairpin was carelessly placed.

The lady followed his gaze and didn't even bother to hide the hairpin.

It was odd that the old man wasn't looking for trouble with her imaginary bullies. Hong Chun never really had bullies as she was just an invisible daughter of a fifth-ranked official but this Old Shang always insisted to fight bullies for her.

"If the eldest miss is unwilling to marry, then this servant is willing to lay this old one's life."

To say that she was shocked was an understatement.

Why the heck would Old Shang say these words with reverence in his eyes? It was as though he was a valiant soldier sacrificing himself for the country.

Seeing that she was scared enough to not speak, his withered eyes were misty. "This old one doesn't have use and can only do this much. Hoping that Eldest Miss won't feel wronged, this is my last wish."

There seemed to be a well of unsaid words in his throat but the stifled atmosphere wasn't conducive to say them.

Hong Chun felt a storm sweeping over her entire body. This small interaction was enough to cause a rampage in her mind.

After all, she was someone allergic to drama and this circumstance smelled just like an unfolding dog-blood drama.

She didn't have a clue what was happening and gasped as though something was pinching the organ inside her ribcage. Her whole body felt the symptoms of her drama allergy.

"Old Shang..." Her breath was shaky. "This young miss feels tired and will rest for now."

The white-haired person bowed in a more deferential manner than usual.

"For the Eldest Miss to be happy, these old bones will do anything."

Hong Chun didn't dare to look at him anymore. She felt that if she stayed any longer, he would start kowtowing.

She didn't have the courage to accept that or to stop him from doing so. She could only hurry and get out of this sticky situation.

To live simply was her desire.

Steadying her breath, she closed the door once she reached her courtyard.

Everyone knew the Hong miss preferred not to have personal maids. She only had servants around her courtyard when it was cleaning time or when they served food.

Other than that, she only liked herself for company.

Of course, Mother Hong strongly opposed this. How could a xiaojie be left to her own devices?

Wasn't that the same as telling everyone that they couldn't afford to keep servants?

But relying on Father Hong's humble background, Hong Chun was able to reason out very well.

So her small southern courtyard was pretty silent all year round.

Gaining back her oblivious-to-the-world attitude, she decided to sleep it off.

---

"Papa, what are dreams?" I ask him, voice void of traces of childishness.

I could have just searched it. After all, I had access to the worldwide web anytime.

But asking a person would give me subjective answers that I'd like to know.

The man before me was tapping furiously on the hologram keyboard and screens before him. He's coding additional programs that would later be installed in me.

He touched his eyeglasses that were about to fall off because of his hunched posture.

Then, he looked at me fondly.

"You're having dreams because your brain is still active even when you sleep... Err.. in near shutdown. It conjures images of random things. Don't take them too seriously...

It's one of the proofs that you're special. Not just an intricate bundle of codes and metal but a real person."

I stare at the tiled floor of the lab while he continued his programming.

Afterward, I scan the upgraded software. Of course, Papa's work is the best of the best.

The world's number one genius is my Papa.

But a pair of clear winter-sky eyes flickering with the reflection of flames flood my vision again. Whose eyes are they?

Remembering someone is impossible. After all, even though Papa says I'm real... I'm still a poor imitation.

This time, I ignore it.

Papa said they're not to be taken seriously.

---

There was no dramatic gasp of someone waking up from an emotional dream.

Hong Chun just felt bile rushing up to her throat so she sat on her bed cross-legged and calmed her thoughts.

These days, she'd been stimulated again and again that unneeded memories would now flood her mind.

If it was before, taking time to meditate would tame the turbulent emotions. Although the Confucian and Buddhism methods were strict, she borrowed their principles to keep herself at bay.

But meditation wouldn't help her now. Even the dreary silence of her quarters failed to calm her.

What she hated the most were unnecessary emotions. She loathed it to the point that there was a time before when she wanted to gouge out her heart.

Although she stopped right before someone caught her, the scar on the left side of her chest would be visible to whoever would be intimate with her.

The sky was still dark and the room didn't have any source of light.

In the midst of this pitch-black nothingness, her pair of eyes glistened with faint animosity.

She never liked tolerating uncertainties so she took an indifferent attitude to everything. This way, she would remain unaffected no matter what happened.

But memories and the lack thereof... they had a way of disturbing her more than a real person could.

Her earliest memory of this world was roughly when she was six years old. But her instincts believed that she was born here.

If she was in that place, the word instinct would be an insult to her system-run alloy body.

A sarcastic smile graced her lips.

Perhaps, she had lingered in one place for too long.

The hazy figure stood up from the bed and opened the windows. A burst of coolness went inside the solemn room.

Hong Chun decided.

She stayed leisurely under this identity for quite a few years. It wouldn't be too much if she left.

At least, for her who didn't have attachments.

A light flashed in those pair of severe eyes. At this moment, who would recognize her as that negligent Miss Hong?

---

"Greeting Father and Mother!"

The siblings of the Hong family kneeled and properly saluted in the main entrance of the fu.

Seeing this scene, Yi Bing was moved. There was pride in her eyes as she looked at her two children.

The house didn't become a disaster without her.

"You've both done well while we were out. Let's go inside, tell Father what fun you had when we weren't here."

Hong Chun had a pleasant smile and let Hong Ting chatter.

It was clear her younger brother was a man but he liked talking more than her. This lovable charm was reserved exclusively for the family.

Their household was lively once again.

It had been like this since they were kids. The faint curve on Hong Chun's lips was suitable for the festive mood.

But when Yi Bing looked back at her, she felt inexplicably troubled.

Grasping her daughter's hand, she pulled her along with them and they walked as a whole family.

This was the first time they had separated for so long. There were lots of stories to be exchanged.

Before, there were times that Father Hong had to stay at work for many days in a row but no one minded the distance. He was still in the capital after all.

This time, their parents had been gone for almost a month. Who would say that no one missed each other?

But just as they were getting ready to dine together. A servant came in and bowed.

"Master, young miss Mao, young master Mao, and Madam have arrived."

Hong Chun raised her brows. Have arrived?

"Didn't know we're expecting you," were the first words she threw at Mao Zhen.

"Hehehe, surprised?"

She didn't reply after that as the food was served.

After the merry greetings, the Hong couple naturally invited them to dinner.

Mao Zhu sat to Hong Shu Cao's left while his mother sat next to Yi Bing.

Looking at Hong Ting, one wouldn't notice the faint veins bulging from his temple. But Hong Chun did.

She patted his head like he was a kid and whispered, "Behave."

He looked at her with disapproval.

Since when was he not behaved?