A debonair figure suddenly appeared across his field of vision and his arm was held tightly. Next, Kiyomi saw the man bowed his head to the young woman before speaking to him with warmth: "My Lord, please, allow me."
Then Kiyomi was led by the man to the bench under the zelkova tree.
Emika shuffled awkwardly, a step behind them.
Once he was seated, Kiyomi was just about to express his gratitude when the man standing in front of him spoke with glee: "My name is Zhóu Teoh, the newly appointed prefect. How lucky that I came to Sendaî today! If not, I would never have been able to enjoy such rarest talent!"
He gave a deep bow from the waist, then pursued: "I was beyond impressed by your interpretation of the Second Sage Analects." The official had laid a hand over his heart, a wide smile flashed showing a full row of pearly teeth. "You are the first person I see who shows such great talent at a young age."
Kiyomi released an appreciative sigh.
"I have a ten-year-old son and I would be honoured if you would consider tutoring him." The official expectantly looked at him, body leaning forward and head tilting slightly to the side.
To his disappointment, Kiyomi declined with finality. At that, the official strongly inquired about his master. He thought that his master should be very impressive. After all, under his tutelage this young man already possessed that particular piece of wisdom which did only come later with age. He should unequivocally visit this master and persuade him to take his son as a pupil.
"My master passed away four years ago." Kiyomi's whole face showed a pained expression, and perhaps he was not aware of it himself, but his fist had unexpectedly pounded against his thigh, twice.
At once, Emika shuffled a step away from him. Her posture slumped, her stomach lurched and her pulse jittered. She felt like a small rabbit falling prey to a voracious tiger. Her hands were uncontrollably trembling, so she hid them inside her sleeves.
Emika's guilt was like ice she couldn't melt, even if it were a hundred degrees. The icy cold froze her bones and caused pain in her flesh.
Upon hearing this sad, yet dissatisfying answer, the official broke eye contact to look away briefly, swishing his wide sleeves and thinking how unlucky he was!
The young man's eyes were filled with dark clouds and coldness, even the air surrounding him seemed colder. The official didn't know what to say next. He glanced at the young woman who also seemed rather uncomfortable, her gaze bouncing from place to place but not once on her brother.
As if on cue, his servant hurriedly came to him, ending this awkward silence. "Master, may I suggest to leave at once, for you are going to miss your welcoming ceremony."
After dismissing his servant with a gesture of the hand, the official said: "Young Miss, I apologise to you for my rudeness earlier on. I wasn't aware of who you were and of your noble status. Please, take good care of your brother."
She nodded and plastered on a smile.
Brother? Kiyomi had stolen a glance at her, a glint of surprise flashing across his eyes. Her gaze instantly dropped to her feet.
Official Zhóu Teoh turned to Kiyomi and offered a deep bow before taking his leave: "May our path cross again very soon."
Following that, Emika ventured to look at Kiyomi and he lifted an eyebrow when he met her eyes, as if he was asking a silent question.
Her throat felt tingly. She swallowed hard as she changed the topic:
"Um... My Lord, are you feeling any better? Could it be that you felt weak because you are hungry? It is time for lunch."
However, his dark brow which had remained slightly raised, arched even higher, "Did I hear wrongly?"
She stared at him, her voice deserting her.
"And what is the name of my long lost sister?"
She shifted her weight, and began to play with the tasselled hem of the small purse dangling from her waist.
All of a sudden, she caressed his face with her beguiling smile. "My name is Em—" she stopped herself. "Em... Sa... Emsara!"
Her smile revealed two little incisors slightly peeking from under the upper lip and giving her a goofy and mischievousness grin, but somehow, he thought that it also donned her an attractive and lovable quality. And with those peach coloured cheeks turning slowly red, she looked for all the world like a child found with her hand in the forbidden biscuits jar. How could this grown woman possessed this aureole of a childlike innocence?
His eyes which were previously filled with black clouds, immediately brightened up.
He felt that he knew her, which was impossible because both of them were perfect strangers. Still, his mind was gripped by this captivating smile, that fleeting feeling of dejà vu resurfacing.
From the moment she had accosted him, he was secretly stunned with her face and her figure, both extremely delightful; and with her gestures, noticeably graceful and elegant.
In truth, she had caught his eye much earlier on, without trying to do so. While bidding farewell to his audience, he had noticed a young woman searching for him, circling around him at a distance, and assessing where to stand to 'accidentally' cross path with him, even rehearsing what she would say after bumping into him. He had chuckled at the latter.
Such efforts truly deserved a reward. Hence, he aided their encounter by sending away his bodyguard who could be quite intimidating. Besides, he had no need for Jian to be a third wheeler.
Now that he was close to her, he firmly believed that either a divine or an evil entity had made her this beautiful for a reason. Was she a Flower Fairy? Or a Calamitous Beauty?
Emika observed that Kiyomi had an air of befuddled unworldliness. And his deep and prolonged gaze was anchored to her face.
A tinge of uneasiness was revealed on her trembling bottom lip.
She freed herself from the tenacious grip of his gaze and sat next to him. Oddly, his eyes didn't waver and kept staring at the emptiness she previously occupied.
She recalled that he acted like this when he was lost in deep thoughts. He unconsciously walled off the people around him. And she would remain silent and still, as if time had stopped, until he'd wake up from his stupor.
A cool breeze blew orange leaves falling from the zelkova tree over to them. She slowly brushed the dead leaves off his thighs; her eyes following the blackbird on flight, and her eyes stayed with the bird before colliding with a crowd of cold and unsympathetic pair of eyes. Her act left the observers in a state of shock. Men and women never touched each other, in public at least!
But Emika was unaware that she had caught everyone's attention the moment she had approached Kiyomi.
And the eye-witnesses knew better than to invade his private space! Who was this dauntless woman seated next to him, touching him so intimately? A prostitute from a filthy flower house?
One could tell he had a very good cultured upbringing from his sitting posture, to the way he spoke, walked or gestured; and adding to it a slight hint of imperiousness, everything about him was just as if he was separated from the ways of the world, as if he belonged to a divine realm. There was indeed a daunting and invisible wall separating him from everyone else. And precisely because of this, people felt a sense of reverential distance and didn't dare intrude on his personal space.
Women had the urge to touch him. The bravest ones attempting to seduce him merely ridiculed themselves in front of a crowd of fascinated onlookers often taking bets on the duration of the encounter before the young women would run away in tears.
Meanwhile, Kiyomi's apparent state of impassivity concealed an agitated and conflicted mind. The emotional wound drilled into his soul that no evil doomed us completely except the evil of a woman's love was tugging at his heart.
This enchantress was one of many women who could not to be trusted. More bitter than death was indeed the woman who is like a fisherman's dragnet, and the foolish man captured by her, had his bones tossed back into the sea once devoured.
This emotional trauma felt so intense, almost tangible. Nevertheless, he also knew that this feeling was nothing but irrational. In fact, he had no memory of having experienced this type of calamitous love.
So why did his heart strongly advise him to run away from this woman? Why did his mind warn him that she was no Flower Fairy?
Her presence began to buzz around him like a fly to swat either with indifferent coldness or hurtful remarks.
Yet, he couldn't help but put up with her. He had a strange feeling swelling in the bottom of his heart, but he didn't know what kind of emotion it was. Something about her made him completely forget his senses.
Why did that one goofy smile had instantly made his heart thumped with both feelings of excitement and annoyance?
She was the first fly he could not swat! And what a beautiful fly!