The Huo residence glowed faintly under the velvet curtain of night. Tall glass windows reflected the dim garden lights, polished floors gleamed with perfection, and silence lay thick in the halls, as if noise itself dared not intrude.
Huo Yanzhi was already asleep, his small chest rising and falling beneath a carefully tucked quilt. It had been the nanny, not his mother, who'd overseen his bath and bedtime. A faint lavender scent lingered on his pillow, meant to calm him.
In the study across the hall, however, calm was not the word.
"Madam," Uncle Zhou bowed as he entered, voice low, respectful. "There is something you should know."
Madam Huo did not look up immediately. She was seated at her mahogany desk, thin fingers turning the pages of a business report. Finally, she raised her eyes, sharp as cold steel.
"Speak."
"It concerns Young Master Yanzhi," Uncle Zhou began carefully. "This afternoon, he returned home… covered in mud. He was seen in the company of the Wang girl."
A delicate pause. Madam Huo's expression did not shift, yet the air seemed to cool.
"That child again." She closed the file softly, the sound precise, final. "Keep him away from her. Our Yanzhi is not meant to roll in mud with wild children."
Uncle Zhou bowed deeper. "Yes, Madam."
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the window, where the boy's room lay beyond. Her voice lowered, not with affection, but with a chilling certainty.
"He is destined for more. Do not allow him to forget it."
•••
The Wang household, by contrast, was alive with noise and shadows.
The corridor bulb sputtered weakly, threatening to die with every flicker. Papa Wang sat outside, his tired frame slouched against the wall after another long day at the small village hotel where he fixed pipes and doors. He smelled faintly of metal and soap, but his eyes softened when they fell on his daughter.
Wang Yanmei knelt at a basin, sleeves rolled high, scrubbing her muddy clothes with dramatic sighs.
"Oh, great heroes of the battlefield!" she announced to her shoes, which dripped with brown water. "You fought bravely today! But alas, we lost to the mighty river!"
Inside, Mrs. Wang banged pots and muttered to herself. "Every day, this girl, wasting my time, wasting detergent, wasting my life…" Her voice rose, sharp as a chicken's squawk. "What cursed star brought her to me?"
Yanmei ignored her, cheerfully wringing a sock until water splattered her cheek. Suddenly, a faint golden glow danced past her nose.
"Aha!" she cried, snatching a tiny container by her side. With surprising gentleness, she coaxed the firefly inside, pressing the lid down carefully.
Her mother's voice screeched from the kitchen. "Are you even listening?!"
Yanmei puffed out her chest and shouted back, grinning: "When this bulb finally dies, I'll use my fireflies to light the house!"
For a heartbeat, silence. Then Papa Wang threw his head back and laughed, deep and warm, the sound startling in the night.
Mrs. Wang shrieked louder from the kitchen. "Don't encourage her, old man!"
Yanmei only stuck out her tongue and hummed as she scrubbed, her captured firefly glowing proudly beside her.
•••
The next day at school, the air buzzed with whispers.
"There she goes again, troublemaker Yanmei."
"She's just like her mother, always stirring things up."
Yanmei strolled through the stares like a queen, twirling her pigtails, and plopped herself right beside Huo Yanzhi with the confidence of a general claiming conquered land.
He stiffened, immediately shifting his books away. "Didn't I tell you yesterday not to sit with me?"
"Yes, but I forgot." She grinned, already reaching for his pencil case.
"You forgot?"
"Mm-hm. The same way you forgot to comb your hair to the left instead of the right today." She leaned close, squinting at him. "Wow, you're so neat. Even your cowlick has discipline."
He turned red and snapped his notebook shut. "Return my eraser."
Yanmei popped it into her mouth.
The class gasped.
"You... you can't eat that!" His voice cracked.
She chewed exaggeratedly, then spat the eraser back onto his desk with a satisfied plop. "Relax, I was just cleaning it for you. Look, now... it's germ-free."
The classroom erupted in laughter.
Huo Yanzhi's face burned crimson. His pen trembled in his hand as he started copying notes... fast, furious, perfect strokes.
Yanmei leaned over, tilting her head. "Your handwriting is too neat… like a girl's."
Laughter roared louder.
His jaw locked. The next line on his page came out jagged, uneven.
Yanmei gasped, covering her mouth with fake shock. "Oh no! The neat prince has fallen to the dark side! Everyone look, he's corrupted now!"
"Enough!" Yanzhi hissed, snapping his notebook shut so hard his ruler fell out.
Yanmei snickered, unfazed. "Don't worry, I'll protect your secret. From now on, you're half prince, half bandit."
Later,
at the mango tree, Yanmei climbed like a monkey, bare feet gripping the bark.
"Get down this instant!" Huo Yanzhi shouted, panic twisting his voice.
"Nope! My destiny is to conquer mangoes!" she bellowed, swinging one hand dramatically.
"Your destiny is to break your neck!"
"Then you can bury me under this tree and write on my tombstone: Here lies Yanmei, the greatest mango hunter who ever lived!"
"Idiot!" He stomped his foot, fists balled. "What will your mother say if you die?"
"Eh, she'll just complain about wasting detergent to wash my funeral clothes." Yanmei cackled, shaking the branch.
Leaves rained down. A mango dropped, bouncing off Yanzhi's head with a thud.
He staggered, clutching his skull.
Yanmei doubled over with laughter from her perch. "See?! Even the mango likes me better than you!"
"Mei mei!" His voice cracked again, half fury, half embarrassment. "You're impossible!"
"Aw, don't pout." She tossed him another mango. "Here, take it as tribute. You're my sidekick now."
"Sidekick?!" His voice rose an octave. "You!"
But she was already climbing higher, fearless, shouting to the sky:
"One day, I'll have a whole kingdom of mango trees! And you, Huo Yanzhi, will still be carrying my bag to school and call me Master mei mei!"
What neither of them saw was Uncle Zhou, standing at a distance, his face hardening as he watched the scene.
The report tonight, he decided grimly, would be even harsher.
Yanmei skipped home, mango clutched like treasure, completely unaware of the storm brewing just beyond her laughter.