After he finished speaking, Shen Xiling also looked at him, then hesitated for a moment before stepping into the pavilion.

Qi Ying glanced at the seats by the pavilion’s railing and said: “Sit.”

Shen Xiling kept her head half-lowered, thanked him, and walked to a seat neither too close nor too far from him. She heard him ask: “Why were you standing outside just now?”

She pursed her lips, was silent for a while, then answered: “I heard that you had established a rule that no one was allowed to enter Wangyuan…”

Qi Ying smiled slightly, neither confirming nor denying this, which made Shen Xiling even more curious about the truth of this information. She still felt it was true, but looking around, she didn’t discover anything unusual about this place—it was just a uniquely landscaped small garden.

After thinking, she still asked him: “Is there… something different about this place?”

At this moment, Xue Tuan’er yawned on Qi Ying’s knee, its sapphire blue eyes squinting as if about to fall asleep. Qi Ying stroked its fur while answering slowly: “There’s nothing different. I just don’t like noise, so I’ve never let anyone in.”

Shen Xiling was startled, then suddenly felt her heart soften.

She rarely heard Qi Ying speak of his likes and dislikes, but now he was clearly telling her, “I don’t like noise.”

This wasn’t anything remarkable, yet it stirred ripples in Shen Xiling’s heart.

She suddenly understood him somewhat—he was someone who seemed like a fish in water but actually lived quite exhaustedly. Perhaps he heard too many disputes and debates during his daily life, so when alone, he especially cherished silence.

She thus felt her presence here was very untimely, as if she had disrupted the last trace of tranquility he reserved for himself. She stood up somewhat anxiously and said: “Then I’ll leave now, I…”

Before her apology could leave her lips, she saw Qi Ying look at her with clear, open features, his eyes containing gentle laughter.

He said: “You’re fine. You’re not noisy.”

Mysterious ripples spread outward in circles.

Shen Xiling suddenly didn’t know what to say. That feeling of indistinguishable joy and sorrow rose in her heart once again. She silently experienced that sensation, momentarily as if she had lost her voice.

“Sit,” Qi Ying withdrew his gaze again and looked down at Xue Tuan’er. “Tell me about your shop.”

Actually, Shen Xiling originally hadn’t wanted to discuss the cloth shop matters with Qi Ying. First, because there was now some distance between them, and second, because she felt he was already very tired. Though the cloth shop was enormously important to her, to him it was insignificant. She didn’t want to trouble him with such trivial matters, adding to his burdens while appearing to make no progress herself.

But since the cloth shop was his gift to her after all, she couldn’t be sure whether his current inquiry carried the intention of testing her, so she couldn’t refuse. She could only follow his wishes and sit down again. After deliberating for a moment, she answered honestly: “…It’s not going very smoothly.”

He didn’t seem surprised to hear this—perhaps he already knew the situation from Manager Ding. He only asked: “Is it the fabric inventory problem?”

Shen Xiling was surprised he knew such details and looked at him somewhat bewildered, then nodded.

Her confused and dazed expression seemed to please him, causing a trace of amusement to flash through his eyes. When his phoenix eyes smiled, he looked very handsome, inevitably causing Shen Xiling to stare somewhat dazed. She heard him say: “The price reduction approach wasn’t wrong. Your proportional discounts after comparing prices were also appropriate, but you lacked some technique.”

Shen Xiling came to her senses, frowned upon hearing this, then showed a puzzled expression: “Technique?”

Qi Ying looked at her, thought briefly, then said: “Two wen for one candied hawthorn stick, three wen for two sticks, seven wen for five sticks. If it were you, how would you choose?”

His sudden question seemed completely unrelated. Though confused, Shen Xiling still followed his line of thought. After deliberating, she answered: “If it were me, I’d choose three wen for two sticks.”

Qi Ying nodded and asked: “Why?”

Shen Xiling pursed her lips and answered: “Two wen for one stick is too expensive, not cost-effective. Though seven wen for five sticks is most economical, buying five sticks is too many—I couldn’t eat them all, and the total price of seven wen is too high. I’d feel bad about spending so much.”

Qi Ying nodded again and asked: “What if there were no seven wen for five sticks option, only two wen for one stick and three wen for two sticks?”

Shen Xiling was startled and fell into deep thought. Suddenly her eyes brightened as she understood Qi Ying’s meaning.

When people only know about two wen for one stick and three wen for two sticks, even though they know the latter is more cost-effective, they won’t be as quick to pay. Sometimes a transaction succeeds or fails in a single moment of thought—once they hesitate, the chance of them paying decreases. But when the seven wen for five sticks option exists, by comparison, three wen for two sticks seems both cost-effective and convenient.

The candied hawthorn vendor never intended to sell many at seven wen for five sticks from the start. Seven wen for five sticks was just a decoy—his real purpose was to guide people to choose three wen for two sticks.

Just a small difference could create vastly different feelings and guide people’s choices.

Seeing the young girl’s bright eyes, Qi Ying knew she had figured out the key point. With approval in his eyes, he guided her further: “All things in this world seem vastly different, but ultimately they all face nothing more than human nature. Though commerce appears complex, tracing back to its source, it’s nothing more than this. To do this well, you must learn to understand this point. If others momentarily cannot make decisions favorable to you, then find ways to help them decide.”

His words were clear and light, but they gave Shen Xiling a sudden enlightenment, a feeling of profound awakening.

She was somewhat excited, her mind suddenly buzzing with many ideas. She almost wished dawn would break immediately and the markets of Jiankang would open at once, so she could implement all her ideas and revive that struggling little cloth shop.

Seeing her joy, Qi Ying smiled and shook his head, then said: “Next comes the matter of Manager Lu. What are your thoughts?”

Upon hearing him mention that manager, Shen Xiling’s exuberant mood subsided somewhat.

Manager Lu’s embezzlement was another troublesome matter. The amount he had stolen was neither large nor small, but it stuck like a thorn in Shen Xiling’s heart, making her uncomfortable. However, Manager Lu had operated the cloth shop for over ten years and was indeed experienced. He not only had harmonious relationships with the shop’s workers but was also familiar with other managers, making many tasks easier when handled by him. If he left now, Shen Xiling didn’t know who could replace him—it was truly difficult.

Seeing her dilemma, Qi Ying didn’t point it out directly but only said lightly: “One who is too observant has no friends—you should understand this principle. What’s important in dealing with people is drawing clear boundaries, letting the other party know how far they can go at most. That manager has operated for many years and has his strengths. What you need to do is make him understand your limits of tolerance. If he knows to yield, there’s still room for other matters…”

Shen Xiling listened quietly.

He guided her step by step, not telling her specifically what to do, but explaining some principles of dealing with people. Some things Shen Xiling understood, some she didn’t, while simultaneously feeling many blank spaces in her heart being filled by him.

These were things her parents hadn’t had time to teach her, but now this man was explaining them to her one by one.

She felt both joyful and sad. Looking at him speaking before her now, she couldn’t help but recall what he had said to the Sixth Princess at the flower gathering.

That day she had chased out from the courtyard, wanting to find him. Actually, she had nothing particular to tell him then—she didn’t even know why she needed to find him. She just felt she absolutely had to go, especially after seeing that princess. Her heart burned with discomfort, intense panic overwhelmed her, and some indescribable bitter feelings lingered in her heart.

She felt only by seeing him could she feel better.

Later she found him in the garden, with that princess also present. They were talking, so she had to hide behind the flowers and trees. Every word they spoke fell into her ears.

He said, “What is Your Highness thinking? She’s just a child—where would such romantic feelings come from?”

He said, “Naturally it’s true.”

He said, “When she grows up, she’ll naturally leave.”

Originally, Shen Xiling couldn’t distinguish what kind of feelings she had for Qi Ying. Sometimes she felt he was like her father or brother, but occasionally she felt something different, though she couldn’t say what exactly was different.

But after the incident at the main house, she understood somewhat—actually, Old Madam Qi was right. She indeed harbored improper thoughts about him.

When did it begin?

Perhaps it started when he told her to “eat well, you’re too thin” the day he left Jiankang. Perhaps it began when he handed that beautiful fox lantern to her on Lantern Festival. Perhaps it started the first time he called her Wenwen.

Or perhaps even earlier—it began the first time she saw him.

Then he had stepped down from his carriage, with Jiankang City’s heaviest snowfall in decades behind him. She saw her own reflection in his eyes, and also saw a breadth and compassion she had never encountered before. He lifted her horizontally in the forest and draped his clothes over her. Surrounded by his scent, she finally found a moment’s respite in that endless, continuous grief.

She had once been displaced and wandering, but he had given her an embrace where she could shelter from wind and snow.

She knew she shouldn’t harbor such foolish thoughts anymore, but falling in love with him was such an easy, easy thing. Despite trying every method, she couldn’t stop—she could only desperately endure and disguise her feelings.

She thought this would be fine—she could quietly stay by his side, stealing moments to secretly like him when he wasn’t paying attention, then lower her head when he looked back at her, pretending nothing had happened.

Hiding and evading for a lifetime would be fine too.

But this was impossible.

That flower gathering showed her his position, showed her the people around him. That Sixth Princess was both nobly born and dazzlingly beautiful, able to openly declare her fondness for him, able to face others’ observation and scrutiny with dignity. In comparison, she suddenly felt her own cowardice: she was just an orphan girl who had to borrow even her name from others, alone with nothing, yet had the audacity to secretly like him.

Even she felt unworthy.

He said, “When she grows up, she’ll naturally leave.” She thus realized she couldn’t stay by his side for life—someday she would have to leave, and he was already waiting for that day to come.

Actually, this was very normal. There was no blood relation or connection between them originally. Truly speaking, to him she was nothing more than trouble that suddenly fell from the sky. His caring for her temporarily was already the utmost benevolence—there was no reason he should care for her for life.

But hearing his words that day, she still couldn’t help feeling sad and hurt.

She ran back to her room and cried for a whole day. From then on, she didn’t dare see him again.

She wasn’t throwing a tantrum—she was just… somewhat timid. She feared that seeing him would make her unable to stop recalling what he and that princess had said that day. She feared that the longer she spent with him, the more stubborn those unreasonable fantasies would become. She feared liking him more and more, and she feared hearing him say, “You can leave now.”

She was very afraid that those dreams born from him would shatter in an instant once again, and she would have to realize anew the fact that she was empty and had nowhere to belong.

She had originally been interested in the cloth shop, but now it was like her lifeline. She threw herself into this matter with total dedication, and that feeling of having nowhere to place her fears would be temporarily set aside. She couldn’t wait to grow up immediately, and couldn’t wait to possess something that belonged to herself. Perhaps then she wouldn’t feel so sad and lonely.

Over there, Qi Ying was still speaking, but looking up, he saw the young girl’s expression was dim, as if lost in thought.

He paused and asked: “Wenwen?”

Shen Xiling came to her senses, looked up at Qi Ying, and met his inquiring gaze directly. She immediately felt her heart tighten and lowered her head again.

Seeing the young girl with her head down and her fingers silently twisted together, Qi Ying felt she was still having some strange tantrum, and felt somewhat helpless. After a moment of silence, he looked at the cat on his knee and asked: “You named it Xue Tuan’er?”

Shen Xiling was surprised by his sudden change of topic. After being stunned for a moment and hearing his question, she felt somewhat flushed, nodded, and said: “Just… just calling it that for now…”

“Why just for now?” Qi Ying asked with a smile. “Planning to change it again?”

Shen Xiling bit her lip, her fingers tightened further, and after a moment of silence, she steeled herself and said: “No… it’s just that I probably shouldn’t keep it, so… it would be better to return it to you.”

Though she spoke haltingly, her meaning of refusal was very clear. Qi Ying’s smile faded as he looked at her and asked: “You don’t like it?”

Shen Xiling immediately shook her head: “No…”

Qi Ying remained calm: “Then why not keep it?”

Shen Xiling blinked, opened her mouth as if wanting to speak, but ultimately remained silent.

Qi Ying sighed, feeling increasingly helpless.

The young girl was too reticent, and now somewhat distant from him, leaving him unsure how to talk with her. Just as he was about to ask her more, he turned his head slightly. At that moment, the colorful clouds completely dispersed, and the gentle moonlight became even clearer. Shen Xiling also suddenly raised her head at that moment, and their gazes met directly.

That was an indescribable instant.

The moonlight was so gentle yet bright, illuminating everything in the young girl’s eyes with extraordinary clarity, allowing him to see at a glance all the feelings she had been carefully concealing—the familiar slight petulance and attachment, plus some emotions he had never seen before, faintly heavy, complex and winding, with joy and sorrow indistinguishable.

In that very moment, Qi Ying very clearly realized:

…She loved him.

It was the purest yet most unspeakable emotion of a young girl, clearer than this night’s moonlight, more shimmering than the pond full of wind-blown lotus. But beyond this, there seemed to be feelings even heavier and deeper than romantic love, faintly lingering in that young girl’s eyes, appearing somewhat restrained and bitter.

His heart suddenly trembled violently.

Author’s Note: “Some people think love is sex, is marriage, is six o’clock-in-the-morning kisses, is a bunch of kids. Maybe that’s what love is, Miss Lester. But you know what I think? I think love is a touch and yet not a touch.”

—Salinger

Next update: Volume Two finale