A pair of hands reached toward her chin. Ji Yingying startled: “What are you doing?”

Yang Jingyuan grinned: “A maiden’s tears are pearls – I’m catching them to sell!”

Ji Yingying retorted: “Who’s crying?”

Yang Jingyuan wiped her face and held up his tear-stained finger before her: “Then what’s this? Your saliva?”

“Nonsense!” Ji Yingying touched her cheek, finding it wet. She hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped it: “The wind got in my eyes, what’s the big fuss? Where’s your horse? My brother must be anxious.”

Do you think I’m blind? Your eyes followed Second Young Master Zhao when he left… and now you blame the wind… Yang Jingyuan grumbled internally. Without commenting, he curved his fingers and whistled.

Hearing the whistle, the white horse trotted gracefully out from the grove.

Ji Yingying stepped forward to stroke the horse’s face. Xuefeng recognized her and affectionately nudged her with its head.

Yang Jingyuan glanced at Ji Yingying and slapped the horse’s face, muttering: “Ungrateful beast!”

Anxious to return to her brother, Ji Yingying didn’t stand on ceremony and mounted using the stirrup. As Yang Jingyuan was about to mount, she stopped him.

She said sheepishly: “Third Young Master Yang, it wouldn’t look proper if we rode back together. How about I borrow your horse to return first? Later I’ll have my brother ride back to find you. I promise I won’t leave you here to drink the wind this time.”

What? Yang Jingyuan could hardly believe his ears. How could she be so ungrateful? She had nearly been suffocated by the out-of-control Second Young Master Zhao, and he had saved her. How dare she leave him behind? No, she was avoiding impropriety. But why hadn’t she worried about propriety when speaking alone with Second Young Master Zhao by the riverside grove? She looked down on him. Why should she? Was he inferior to Second Young Master Zhao? In looks or wealth, how was he, Third Young Master Yang, lacking?

Seeing Yang Jingyuan’s increasingly dark expression, Ji Yingying knew she was being unreasonable. But whenever she thought of Zhao Xiuyuan’s final glance, she couldn’t bear to ride back with Yang Jingyuan. She smiled apologetically: “Consider it renting your horse, alright?”

Rent his horse? Had she asked if he agreed?

“What makes you think I’m so short of money that I need to rent out Xuefeng?”

His tone was unfriendly. Ji Yingying sensed it. She could walk back along the river embankment, though it would take about half an hour. She was just worried about her brother’s anxiety. She said carefully: “I misspoke.”

Yang Jingyuan’s expression had barely improved when Ji Yingying said: “Didn’t you promise my brother? Why not complete your good deed?”

Her face wore an exaggerated, fake smile, hands gripping the reins tightly. Her eyes betrayed her unease. Yang Jingyuan’s heart softened. He suddenly remembered that Second Young Master Zhao was to marry the Niu family’s daughter, and Ji Yingying had calmly ended things with him. Was she so cold and calm? If she were, why had tears streamed down her face unknowingly after Zhao Xiuyuan left?

She and Second Young Master Zhao had grown up together, falling in love. Now suddenly he was to marry another – surely she must be heartbroken. Yet even when she wanted to cry, she had forced back her tears because of his presence.

Sympathy welled up in Yang Jingyuan’s heart, along with some regret. Why hadn’t he let her cry her heart out earlier? Perhaps she wanted to return alone just to have some quiet time to herself.

“We’ve become acquainted as brother and sister after all. I simply helped when I saw injustice, that’s all. Finding you wasn’t my responsibility.” Though he had already agreed in his heart, he said, “Why should I play the good person? You still misunderstood me at Qingyang Temple last time.”

How petty! At Qingyang Temple, he had conspired with Sang Shisi to tease Second Young Master Zhu and her brother. Yet he still held a grudge over her misunderstanding. Ji Yingying wanted to borrow his horse, so while grumbling internally, she kept flattering him: “Yes, yes, I was wrong last time. You are a good person. It must have been Young Master Sang’s mischief, nothing to do with you. I misunderstood you. I apologize. Please lend me your horse.”

This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Yang Jingyuan crossed his arms and remained silent.

But Ji Yingying misunderstood. She said anxiously: “You’re not short of money. Well, how would you like me to thank you?”

Yang Jingyuan’s lips curved: “I quite like your handkerchief. Give it to me?”

How could a maiden casually give away her handkerchief? Ji Yingying was troubled.

She’s probably given plenty of pouches and sachets to Second Young Master Zhao. Yang Jingyuan rolled his eyes: “I’m just curious about the pattern. Don’t know how it was embroidered. I’m a man – you think I’d use a woman’s handkerchief?”

The pattern? Ji Yingying was puzzled and quickly pulled out the handkerchief. Blue background, pink-purple chrysanthemums. She hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying this brocade handkerchief with her.

In an instant, she remembered her feelings while staying up late embroidering it. To meet the deadline, her eyes had grown red with exhaustion, and her shoulders and neck aching. All to help Zhao Xiuyuan win the Brocade Prince competition, so their marriage would be icing on the cake. She clutched the brocade handkerchief tightly and suddenly spurred the horse toward the river.

“Hey!” Yang Jingyuan was startled. He pushed off the ground, pressed his hand on the white horse’s back, and leaped onto it, reaching for the reins. “Even if you want to die for love, you don’t need to use my horse to jump in the river!”

Before he finished speaking, Ji Yingying had thrown the handkerchief into the river. She growled softly: “I haven’t lived enough yet, who wants to jump in the river?”

Though she tried desperately not to cry, her voice betrayed her feelings.

Yang Jingyuan tightened his arms around her. Her petite body nestled in his embrace, a faint fragrance of powder filling his nose. He wanted to tell her, don’t be sad if Second Young Master Zhao doesn’t want you, I’ll marry you. He also wanted to say, Yingying, I just learned today your name is Yingying. I’ve called it several times in my heart, it’s like a little cat’s name.

But he couldn’t say it. He feared she would glare and accuse him of taking advantage of her vulnerability. Just like that day at Qingyang Temple, when he had tried so hard to undermine Sang Shisi, and she had called him despicable.

All these thoughts tumbled in his heart, taking just the blink of an eye. Yang Jingyuan jumped down from the horse and led it by the reins toward the embankment: “My servant is called Xiangyou, just have him come get me.”

With that, he slapped the horse’s rump, and the white horse carried Ji Yingying toward the embankment.

Ji Yingying looked back to see Yang Jingyuan standing by the river watching her. She bit her lip and called out loudly: “Thank you! Third Young Master Yang, you are a good person.”

Hah, a good person! Yang Jingyuan picked up a stone from the ground and threw it into the river. The stone skipped across the surface, creating ripples. Suddenly he spotted the handkerchief.

Being so light, it had only landed at the water’s edge, not carried away by the current. He walked over, stepped onto a cobblestone, and picked it up. He wrung out the water and hung it on a branch to dry. Yang Jingyuan lay down on the grass under the tree, looking up at the handkerchief. As the wind lifted the brocade handkerchief, a look of astonishment gradually appeared in Yang Jingyuan’s eyes.