However prosperous a city, it will always have its slums. Jinghua, for all its splendor, had its wandering beggars and its crumbling poor districts too. In the eyes of the rich — and of those who fancied themselves rich — their existence earned no pity. It was, if anything, unforgivable. They spoiled the look of the city. They polluted the eye.

In the northern outskirts of Jinghua stood a district that was falling apart in every direction. Not one wall in it had its plaster intact; even the tallest building, all five stories of it, had gone black and derelict with time. The roads were a mixture of dirt and broken stone, with hardly a level place to set a foot.

And here, a rented room of seven square meters. The rent on this hut, which looked as though it might collapse at any moment, was eighty a month — less than three hours in a proper hotel room in a large city. Inside were a bed, two battered tables, and a chair. One table held some simple cooking equipment; the other was crowded with bottles and jars, and a closer look would reveal that the entire table was covered in medicine.

At the head of the bed stood a simple rack, on which a small stack of folded girls’ clothes was neatly arranged. Beyond that, the little room held nothing at all. And that narrow bed, those two small tables and one chair, and that rack made up the entire space, packed so tight there was scarcely anywhere left to stand.

On the room’s only bed lay a small girl… a small girl like an angel. Anyone who saw her would be conquered and astonished by that exquisite, almost impossibly beautiful face. She was like a little princess who had stepped out of a painting; her purity and her loveliness did not belong to this world, because the filthy air of this world could only defile her…

A ruined setting, and a girl of absolute beauty. Nothing about it fit together.

There were two pillows on the bed, one on the left and one on the right. She lay quietly on the inner one, eyes closed, sleeping lightly. Her lips were soft, her skin was pale — but anyone who looked at her would feel their heart ache. Her lips and her face were both far too white, white enough to hold almost no color of blood at all… which meant, too, that there was very little life left in her.

The wooden door of the room had rotted through in several places, but the holes had been carefully stopped with paper, and it was shut tight. Behind the wooden door stood an iron security door that looked brand new, evidently installed not long ago. The only source of light was a high window.

The sound of a key turning. The wooden door opened, and then the security door — and as the security door swung in, the small girl on the bed opened her eyes… eyes that were so very beautiful, and yet so dim that hardly any color could be found in them.

“Sister,” she said, softly.

The one who came in was a girl whose clothing had nothing whatsoever to do with the word lovely — but for one so naturally beautiful, no fabric however coarse could ever hide a charm that made a man want to drown in it. Willow brows, apricot eyes, a fine nose, cherry lips; cheeks like tender snow, hair like cloud, a throat like jade. Everything ordinary girls envy, she had. Everything a beautiful girl ought to have could be found in her.

They say you should look at the hands first — that the hands are a woman’s most beautiful feature. And hers were slender and soft, every finger clear as jade, the fingertips tapering perfectly. Above the wrists, her arms were slim and long beneath her sleeves, almost translucent. Her skin was very pale — not snow-pale, but a flawless, luminous white like snow-jade.

With hands and skin like that, could she truly be a girl born into poverty?

“Xiaoxue, I’m back… Xiaoxue, look, look, I bought so much good food, and there’s the one you always used to love—” She sat quickly at the bedside and set the bag, packed full of food, down in front of her, a joyful, contented smile on that lovely face. “Do you know, I earned so much money today. From now on I’ll definitely be able to earn this much every day, and more each day than the last, and I’ll definitely be able to save up enough for Xiaoxue’s treatment.”

But the girl on the bed didn’t smile. She stared for a moment, then tipped her head back to look into her sister’s eyes. “Sister, is that… true?”

Her voice was soft and young, sweet and ethereal as rain in an empty valley — and yet as weak as a wind with no strength in it. Her sister nodded, smiling, stroking her cheek. “Silly girl. Your sister has finally found a way to earn a lot of money. Aren’t you happy? I know — you’re worried I’ll go and do something I don’t want to do. It isn’t like that at all.” She lifted the Fate gaming device that always hung at her neck and said with a light smile, “It’s this. Remember? I told you a few days ago I’d taken up a profession in there that earns money. It’s called an Appraiser. Today, this is what I earned the money with. It only took a little while, and I earned so much.”

Had Ye Tianxie been there, he would have recognized her at once: the girl who had appraised his equipment in the City of Stars. In appraisal fees, he had paid her a total of 350 gold. He could not have imagined how much happiness and how much hope that gift would bring her.

With those 350 gold in hand, she had gone straight to an exchange point run by Wings That Shroud the Sky — the most trustworthy of them — to convert it into real currency. Because word had just spread that currency exchange would open tomorrow, the rate had dropped from 1:2 to 1:1. She felt no disappointment or regret. Holding the 350 she had exchanged, she felt only gratitude and relief.

There are people who will gamble a hundred million, several hundred million, without a thought. And those three hundred-odd yuan, which such people would not deign to glance at, meant everything to a girl with a critically ill sister who stood at the very edge of despair. Because what she had gained was not only money, but hope… Because it was as though she had seen a new road, and seen a chance of saving her sister. This money had not been stolen or seized, and it was not charity. She had earned it with her own effort.

To care for her sister, she rarely left the little room. To earn money, all she could do was tutor children during a few fixed hours each day, hurrying out and hurrying back. Against a daily income of a few dozen, earning 350 in a short while was, truly, an enormous sum.

At last her sister smiled — a smile that could melt the ice of deep winter. “Sister, you’re amazing.”

She nodded hard and squeezed her sister’s small, rather cold hand. “So from now on, Xiaoxue will be happy every day, won’t she? Your illness will get better, and our life will get better and better… Look, I even bought a live fish. We can have fish soup tonight.”

Xiaoxue nodded firmly and said quietly, “Sister, can I play that game too? I want to… help you. If Sister can do it, maybe… maybe I can too.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Be good, Xiaoxue. The doctor said your body and your spirit are still too weak, and your brain especially mustn’t be overworked, so the game isn’t suitable for you right now. When Xiaoxue is a little better, we’ll play together. All right?”

Xiaoxue said nothing. She glanced at the bag full of food and said, her eyes hazy, “Sister… you’ve gotten so thin, because of me…”

The wealth and splendor they’d once had, the warmth and the nobility, had all become smoke on the wind. Since leaving that house, however bitter and exhausting things became, even if they were to die of illness or starve, they would never regret it, and they would never go back. The two sisters had become a pair of withered leaves adrift on a cold wind, and only a month ago had they finally come to rest here… And her sister had already fallen ill before they left. Terminally. Incurably.

But however bitter it got, and though everyone said it was a terminal illness that could never be cured, she would not give up hope. Because that was her sister — the person closest to her in all the world.

And everything her sister endured for her sake, everything she gave up, Xiaoxue watched in silence and carved into her heart. For her sister, she would live on with strength, even though every day the feeling of death tried to drag her down into a bottomless abyss, and every day she thrashed against it and forced death away… She was a burden to her sister — but was she not also her sister’s hope and her anchor? If she died, her sister would truly be alone in the world…

And what she often said to her sister was this: “Sister, if you ever do something you don’t want to do for my sake, I’ll die in front of you that instant.”

She was afraid that in order to raise money for the food she liked and for her treatment, her sister might trade her body, her dignity. It was the thing she feared most in all the world. In her eyes, her sister was the gentlest, most perfect person alive, and only the most perfect man in the world could deserve her. She ought to have the most perfect life — and must never, ever be damned beyond redemption because of her…

“How could I? Xiaoxue’s talking nonsense again. Besides, everyone says slim girls are the prettiest.” Her sister laughed, chiding her, and reached out to open the big bag. “Look — there’s so much. What do you want? See, these are the nuts you always used to love. I bought lots of kinds. Tell me which you want and I’ll shell them for you. The doctor says you should eat less hard food now, so only a little. And here’s jelly — we haven’t had it in so long. And these are red dates. Eating plenty of these will be very good for you right now—”

BANG!

She was still talking when a wholly unwelcome pounding came at the door from outside. And with the pounding came a voice, frivolous and thick with a leering laugh. “Little Chenxin, open the door. Your Brother Huang has come to see you again.”

At that voice, the faces of both sisters filled with worry and disgust.

(End of Chapter 137)