Chapter 16: Too Hungry to Stand Steady
"Do you really not know why I was hit?"
Yu Xian’s gaze shifted to Eldest Miss Ming, casting a quiet glance over her before returning to her canvas to continue painting.
She had gotten into an altercation with that woman, and the one who threw the first slap was Eldest Miss Ming—it would have been strange if the woman hadn't retaliated.
It was also her own fault for assuming they could reason things out calmly and resolve the dispute through dialogue. Who knew the other party would be so shrewish that Yu Xian ended up taking a slap across the face instead?
Still...
Recalling the instant right after that woman struck her, Yu Xian hadn't expected Eldest Miss Ming to step in and slap her right back—without even a second thought.
Yu Xian genuinely disliked the act of slapping—it was an inherently degrading, deeply humiliating gesture. Having been on the receiving end herself, she knew how awful and mortifying it felt, especially in front of a staring crowd.
Yet having someone slap back on her behalf... strangely, didn't feel so bitter.
Eldest Miss Ming’s delicate brows knit faintly: "That's only because all you cared about was holding her back! Someone that aggressive and shameless—did you really think you could reason with her? If you ask me, she needed to be taught a lesson."
Her son was clearly the one in the wrong. Seeing the elderly grandmother mention that the bells were free gifts, his chubby little hand had plunged straight into the cloth pouch to grab an entire fistful. When asked to return them, he defiantly hurled them all over the pavement—if it were up to her, she would have slapped that pudgy hand raw!
"And that little butterball needed a lesson too," Ming Ruixi huffed. Before Yu Xian could reply, she wrapped both arms around her stomach, truly unable to endure the gnawing hunger any longer.
"Yu Xian, this lady is seriously starving."
Yu Xian’s brush didn't pause: "Drink some water."
Ming Ruixi spotted the thermos flask set down by her feet. It had a minimalist black silhouette made of brushed stainless steel, devoid of any ornate flourishes—not a design she particularly fancied.
She still preferred vibrant, exclusively crafted, luxurious tumblers that properly matched her status.
Right now, however, she had no room to be picky. Picking it up, she twisted the lid open, and a waft of warm, curling steam drifted out—not scalding, just right.
She hesitated slightly: "Yu Xian, have you drunk from this?"
Yu Xian knew her princess syndrome was flaring up again, squeamish that a cup she had used might carry traces of saliva: "Not yet."
Only then did Ming Ruixi press her lips to the rim and take a tentative sip. The hollow pangs in her stomach immediately subsided a fraction. Taking several more continuous gulps, the gnawing ache finally eased.
Through her peripheral vision, Yu Xian caught sight of her slightly arched swan neck—slender, pale, and flawless. The striped knit polo shirt clung to her frame, accentuating a waist supple as willow and the exceptionally eye-catching, full swell of her bust.
A child raised on boundless wealth was undeniably exquisite in every physical aspect.
Except, of course, for Eldest Miss Ming's temperament.
Ming Ruixi watched as she finished a canvas, unclipped it, and stretched a fresh one in its place. Thinking back to that Weibo account, Yu Xian was clearly a well-known figure in the art community, with countless people queuing for private commissions to no avail. She guessed Yu Xian was pouring all her focus into traditional oil painting.
Yet she didn't even sell these oil paintings—what was the point of practicing them so relentlessly?
Wouldn't taking on more lucrative private commissions to make money be far better?
"Yu Xian, why do you paint oils?" Ming Ruixi asked out of the blue. She remembered that during university, Yu Xian had enrolled in fine art classes for a period, focusing on oil painting then as well.
Securing the new canvas, Yu Xian said in a flat tone, "Because I love it."
Even if it brought her zero financial return, she would still paint.
Ming Ruixi gave an "oh," then followed up: "Then can you paint a portrait of this lady?"
Yu Xian’s hand froze abruptly. Her expression gave nothing away, but the memory surfaced unbidden: her very first portrait in oils had been of Eldest Miss Ming. And what was the result? She had ripped it to shreds right in front of her face.
Back then, she was destitute. The canvas had been fashioned from an old discarded shirt made of cheap synthetic polyester. After finishing assignments assigned by the instructor, she would scrub the pigments clean to reuse it again and again, causing the fibers to turn brittle over time.
After shredding it to pieces, Eldest Miss Ming had tossed the cup of Häagen-Dazs Yu Xian had bought for her right on top of the ruined canvas to express her utter disgust at having her likeness captured.
Seeing her spacing out without answering, Ming Ruixi puffed her cheeks in annoyance: "This lady letting you paint her is your good fortune."
"No," Yu Xian rejected this supposed blessing with frigid finality.
"Fine, don't then!" Ming Ruixi stood up. Perhaps because she had gone without food for too long, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her; losing her footing in an instant, she pitched straight toward Yu Xian.
Fortuitously, Yu Xian wasn't holding anything in her hands. Reaching out to steady the girl's slender waist, a rich wave of delicate, floral fragrance instantly washed over her senses.
The folding stool beneath them wobbled slightly. Yu Xian, dressed in casual trousers, sat with her legs parted slightly and knees raised level. Eldest Miss Ming tumbled down limp as silk right onto her left knee, legs drawn tightly together between Yu Xian’s thighs, slender arms resting over her shoulders.
Perhaps because she had already sat bare across her lap as a canvas for several nights, Eldest Miss Ming didn't feel the posture was awkward or improper in the slightest.
She simply knit her delicate brows, her small face flushed with pouting indignation: "Yu Xian, this lady is so hungry I can't even stand straight!"
Eldest Miss Ming voiced her displeasure with fierce resentment.
Lifting her by the waist to help her back to her feet, Yu Xian said evenly, "The time isn't up yet. Keep starving."
Refusing to get up, Ming Ruixi resolved to disrupt her painting if she wasn't given food. Sinking her hips, she planted herself firmly back onto Yu Xian's knee: "This lady is seriously starving! My stomach is rumbling—can't you hear it?!"
Yu Xian had indeed heard a few faint grumbles, but she had no intention of bending her principles. If she let the girl off just because she acted spoiled, Ming Ruixi would never take her words seriously in the future.
"I hear it." Yu Xian looked at the young lady sitting inches away—a face of pure, flawless porcelain, without a single blemish.
"Get up," Yu Xian said, using some force to lift her by the waist. "I have to paint."
Forced back onto her feet, Eldest Miss Ming shook with exasperation. Pointing a trembling finger, she snapped: "Yu Xian! Are you even human?!"
How could someone come up with such a cruel, venomous method?
Picking up her brush and dabbing into the pigments, Yu Xian replied with cool indifference: "Whether I am human or not isn't for you to define."
Before the brush met the canvas, Yu Xian added, "Instead of standing there cursing at me, you'd be better off reflecting on your actions."
Eldest Miss Ming: "This lady has nothing to reflect on! You're the one who needs to reflect!"
Yu Xian let out a quiet sigh, ignoring her to focus on her work.
Ming Ruixi paced back and forth in front of her with arms tightly folded, trying to distract herself from the gnawing hunger.
Grabbing Yu Xian's thermos again, she gulped down more than half of what remained before handing it back.
Just as she straightened up, she noticed an employee from the neighboring café bringing out a wooden display stand. It looked somewhat like an easel, but the sign displayed hiring details.
Bored with nothing to do, Eldest Miss Ming cast an inquisitive glance or two at it. Little did she expect those casual glances would lead the staff member to assume she was applying.
"Hello, are you here for an interview?" The staff member sized her up, a flicker of genuine awe flashing across their eyes. "You have great qualifications! If you come to interview, room and board are included. Monthly duties are mainly taking customer orders, serving coffee, and basic floor tasks—simple and easy. Would you like to consider it?"
"Did you say... me?" Eldest Miss Ming pointed at herself. Receiving an affirmative nod, a breath of pure incredulity and contempt escaped her throat: "Do you have any idea what my status is? You want this lady serving tea, pouring water, and bussing tables as a waitress in your shop? And for a monthly salary of 3,500? With this pitiful pocket change, who do you think you're looking down on?"
What could 3,500 buy? Barely enough for a single decent dinner—it wouldn't even cover half a hand's worth of manicure!
Who on earth would want that!
"If you don't want the job, you don't want it—why do you have to mock people?" The employee looked completely bewildered.
Eldest Miss Ming: "Who told you to be so blind to who you're talking to?"
Employee: "Wasn't I just seeing that you're poor? I was recommending out of goodwill. You truly don't know what's good for you."
Eldest Miss Ming looked down at the clothes she was wearing. Yu Xian's clothes had zero sense of taste—anyone could tell they were nowhere near haute couture—and she was wearing plain white sneakers that she had personally witnessed Yu Xian buy for fifty yuan.
From head to toe, everything she wore didn't add up to two hundred yuan.
She was genuinely broke. This was the poorest she had ever been in her entire life!
Deeply wounded by the word "poor," Eldest Miss Ming was burning with humiliation and rage. But just as she prepared to retort, she saw the employee had already turned around and slipped back into the café.
Yu Xian, who had been listening to their exchange from the side, looked up to see Eldest Miss Ming storming back in a blazing temper.
"Yu Xian, someone actually had the nerve to ask me to pour tea and fetch water! What kind of eyesight do they have?! Is this lady the kind of person meant for menial labor?!"
Ming Ruixi marched right in front of her. With hunger flaring up once more, she had no choice but to grab Yu Xian's thermos again to take another gulp to stave off the pangs.
Yu Xian cast her gaze toward the recruitment board, skimming over the hiring details. A breeze rippled across the river, tossing loose strands of hair around Eldest Miss Ming's temples. Yu Xian remarked thoughtfully, "It's not entirely out of the question."
Ming Ruixi's drinking motion froze. With great difficulty, she set the thermos down, swallowed the mouthful of water, and fixed Yu Xian with a gaze full of righteous grievance—as if facing an impending human rights violation:
"Yu Xian! In the morning this lady buys your groceries and cooks your meals, at night I wash your clothes and your underwear, and I even serve as your human canvas—and now you want to kick me out to be a waitress and wring out the very last drop of my labor?!"
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