Yao Ji instinctively looked at Pei Yan's eyes. The nobleman, dressed in a stone-blue robe embroidered with auspicious clouds, sat there with a small white jade crown holding back his raven hair, his sideburns sharp as a knife's edge. Beneath his sword-like brows, a pair of black eyes, clear and bright as a god's, gazed directly at Yao Ji, as though painted with lacquer. Where was the indication that these were eyes that couldn't see?

Yao Ji stood frozen, forgetting the impropriety and offense of staring.

Pei Yan didn't seem to mind, only smiling faintly. "Nian Yao? Your move."

The rest of the game was, naturally, a disaster for Yao Ji. Pei Yan noticed her preoccupation and found it odd. While most people might be momentarily startled by his blindness, they quickly moved past it. Why did this little maid seem so affected? When the game ended, he dismissed her.

Yao Ji knew her behavior was inappropriate, but her mind was in such turmoil that his dismissal felt like a reprieve.

Seeing how normally Pei Yan conducted himself, who would have guessed he was blind? Yao Ji discreetly inquired within the household and learned that Pei Yan had suffered a severe illness in his childhood, a high fever that lasted for more than ten days. Though he recovered, his sight was lost.

His blindness wasn't congenital, which made it all the more tragic. Someone born without sight might feel regret, but perhaps could bear it. Not so for Pei Yan.

He was eight years old when he lost his sight, a time of boundless energy and activity. As the heir to the Tiandu Estate, great expectations had been placed upon him from birth. His life had been on a smooth, predictable path toward a privileged future. Then, this catastrophe struck.

Yao Ji could only imagine the depth of Pei Yan's suffering. If he had succumbed to despair and become withdrawn or developed a volatile temper, no one would have been surprised. Yet, he hadn't. He behaved as any other person might, even showing more kindness than most. She thought of the praise he now received, his masterful martial arts skills, his superior chess playing, his astute judgment… and the immense effort it must have taken to achieve these things.

Yao Ji lay awake night after night, not because she couldn't accept Pei Yan's blindness, but because the thought of the hardships he had endured broke her heart.

Although she tried to suppress her feelings, Pei Yan, with his keen perception, noticed. He initially wondered why the maid seemed so distressed. He didn't believe Yao Ji was harboring hopes of becoming his concubine, as some suggested. Hers was a different kind of sorrow, a restrained yet palpable mixture of grief and compassion.

Puzzled and intrigued, Pei Yan finally asked as she served him tea, "Are you pitying me because I'm blind?"

Yao Ji hesitated. She didn't want to lie about this. Lowering her head, she softly replied, "No, Young Master. Although you are blind, you are far more accomplished than many who can see. There’s nothing to pity. I am only… distressed by the hardships you must have endured."

Her answer surprised Pei Yan. He was momentarily speechless. He had heard similar sentiments in the early days of his blindness. But as he excelled, not only managing daily life but surpassing those with sight, even those closest to him seemed to forget the immense struggle behind his achievements.

"You," he began, then simply said, "You are kind."

From that day forward, Pei Yan found himself drawn to this thoughtful maid. He realized that Yao Ji's life within the estate wasn't easy.

She wasn't born into the Pei household but had arrived because the Song family intended her as a concubine for him. Though Pei Yan himself had always discouraged such arrangements, rumors about her circulated within the household. She had no family or friends there. While some of the older servants, seeing her position in Pei Yan's courtyard, offered to take her as a goddaughter, she seemed to have refused out of pride. Only Bai Lu, connected to her by a shared religious devotion, offered her any companionship.

Despite this isolation, Yao Ji's voice always held a lightness and cheerfulness. When playing chess with Pei Yan, she would speak of the changing seasons, the small happenings within the estate, even amusing anecdotes like the kitchen cat stealing fish. Everything she spoke of seemed imbued with a certain charm.

Pei Yan thought that if he were to describe her voice, it would be like the cheerful song of an oriole in the branches. He couldn't help but wonder what she looked like. He had heard more than once that she was beautiful.

How beautiful? He wasn't particularly curious about her beauty itself. He simply wanted to see her.

This thought startled him. He knew his sight was irretrievable. From the moment he lost it, he had told himself not to yearn for the act of seeing. Only by suppressing this desire could he accept his blindness.

Now, for the first time in over a decade, he felt the urge to see something.

Pei Yan didn't understand what this shift in his heart meant, but the thought of sending the little maid away filled him with hesitation. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

He was a master of concealing his emotions. While his inner world was in turmoil, his outward demeanor remained calm and composed. Yao Ji, oblivious to his internal struggle, continued to serve him tea during their chess games. Not being a true servant, she felt no fear in his presence. Instead, their shared time had fostered a comfortable familiarity, allowing her to speak freely.

One day, as they played chess in the pavilion, Pei Yan, a true master of the game, once again defeated Yao Ji. She tossed down her pieces. "I give up! After all these days, Young Master must know I am no match for you. Why must you make me lose face again?"

Pei Yan chuckled. "You lost by more than ten pieces before. Now, you only lost by six. Though you still lost, your skill has improved. Isn't that something to be happy about?"

Yao Ji made a face. "Young Master truly loves the game, unlike us common folk. We are happy just to win, regardless of anything else."

Pei Yan noted her unconscious use of "we," and a feeling of pleasure warmed him. He smiled. "If you don't love chess, what do you love?"

Yao Ji thought for a moment. Back in the Heavenly Palace, she had loved painting. "I like to paint," she said.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she froze. Pei Yan was a man of many talents, both scholarly and martial. Of all the arts, painting was the one he had never pursued, for obvious reasons. How could a blind man paint?

Realizing her blunder, Yao Ji quickly rose. "I spoke carelessly, Young Master. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," Pei Yan said, hearing the caution in her voice. He sighed inwardly. "I hear the pear blossoms in the garden are in bloom. Why don't you paint them?" He instructed the servants to bring painting supplies. After a moment's thought, he added, "I remember the pear blossoms from my childhood. A mixture of 'three greens' and gamboge should be the right color."

Yao Ji's heart ached. The pear blossoms he remembered from over a decade ago must be a faded memory. She longed for him to see her painting, to see the white blossoms on the branches, as beautiful and abundant as snow.

Pei Yan heard her soft intake of breath as she picked up the brush. "Young Master," she said quietly, "If the painting turns out well, I hope you will appreciate it."

"I will," Pei Yan said, a gentle smile gracing his lips.