“Miss, as lovely as this dress is, I’m afraid you won’t be able to wear it.” Murong shook her head with regret, a trace of helpless frustration in her eyes.

Yan Qing was gently running her fingers along the hem of the skirt. Hearing this, she became curious. “Why not?”

“It’s because of Fifth Miss. Whenever the master sends something over here, she finds out within the first moment. In no more than half an hour, she’ll be here to snatch the dress away.”

Yan Qin had been punished to kneel at the Citang last time for stealing her snow jelly, and her knees had been so swollen she couldn’t get off the ground for three days. She was probably even more resentful now.

But knowing Yan Qin’s temperament, she wouldn’t hold herself back just because she’d been punished once. In her mind, what happened last time was a fluke — if it weren’t, why had she taken so many of Yan Qing’s things before without Master Yan ever finding out?

She had counted on Yan Qing being a timid coward, which was why she had grown bolder and bolder.

“If she likes it, let her take it.” Yan Qing set the dress back in the box. “Murong, go to the storeroom and find something for me.”

Murong had not yet returned when Jing Zhi came hurrying across the threshold. From the look on her face, things had not gone smoothly.

Jing Zhi had been about to jog over, but then recalled Yan Qing’s words — “stay calm in difficult situations, do not rush” — and so she slowed her steps as she reached Yan Qing’s side. “Miss, I just met with Cuinong’s parents.”

“What did they say?” Yan Qing set down the book she was holding.

Jing Zhi shook her head. “I told them exactly what you said, word for word. I thought they would be furious — but they were only startled. Not only did they not believe it, they even blamed me for talking nonsense, and insisted that their daughter had drowned herself in the well. I didn’t dare linger with them for too long, so I came back.”

Yan Qing let out a quiet sigh. “I was too naive.”

This was Xin Guo, not the modern world. In the modern world, money could move mountains — let alone in this era of semi-open economics and still-feudal thinking. Even if she came forward to report it, Cuinong’s parents would not agree to pursue it.

The Yan Family had given Cuinong’s parents a large sum in consolation money — enough for them to find a good wife for their son. Set against their daughter’s life, they cared more about the benefits her death had generated.

Yan Qing had not been a stranger to situations like this. In fact, she had seen far too many of them.

Like when everyone knew who the killer was, but without evidence, all anyone could do was watch as the murderer went free. Or when a wealthy man died a violent death and no one cared who did it — a crowd of so-called family members brawling outside the morgue over the division of assets.

Blood runs warm, but sometimes the human heart is cold as ice.

When Murong returned, she handed over what Yan Qing had asked for, though she still had no idea what Yan Qing intended to do with it.

“Miss, I just heard that Director Shi will be coming tomorrow.” Murong said. “Probably to deliver a return gift.”

Yan Qing was busy fiddling with the Western dress and paid no particular attention.

But Jing Zhi perked up immediately at the mention of Director Shi. “Tomorrow?”

Murong said: “They say Director Shi is a devoted and filial son. He comes to the Yan household to collect medicine for his mother — medicine unavailable locally, which the master brings back from elsewhere. As a gesture of gratitude, every time he collects the medicine, he comes back a few days later with a return gift.”

“What a pity.” Jing Zhi sighed wistfully. “Director Shi is such a good man, and yet the one our miss is meant to marry isn’t him.”

*PS: Update complete. Tell me loudly — do you like this story? Do you like Qing Qing? Do you like Shi Ting?*

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