The Old Madam ate little, and once she set down her chopsticks, she turned her attention to amusing Jing’er. The baby was plump and fair, his soft little body ringed with rolls of baby fat, and he had a cheerful disposition — the moment anyone played with him, he burst into peals of happy laughter, utterly irresistible to all.

“Lan’er has done a wonderful job caring for Jing’er.” The Marshal watched his son with deep feeling. “When we first took him in, he was all wrinkled and red — and now look at him, so round and rosy.”

Not far away, Du Linghua laughed coldly to herself. What baby isn’t wrinkled and red when it’s born? One born plump and fair from the very start would be something unnatural.

In the Marshal’s eyes, everything Qian Lan did was of course beyond reproach. But she didn’t believe a woman barely past twenty could look after a child better than its own mother.

Inwardly thinking all this, Du Linghua kept her voice pleasant. “The Madam treats Jing’er as if he were her very own. Even his own mother couldn’t do more. Marshal, you have truly found yourself a fine wife. This is Jing’er’s blessing — and the blessing of our Shi household.”

The Marshal beamed at Du Linghua’s words. “San Yitai is quite right — it truly is the good fortune of our Shi household.”

He turned his gaze to Qian Lan, his eyes full of tender adoration, every trace of his attention drawn entirely to her.

Both Shi Ting and Yan Qing, watching the Marshal’s utter infatuation with Qian Lan, felt that something was deeply wrong.

The Marshal was not a man who would neglect affairs of state over a woman — especially not a man of such fierce ambition. Yet lately, the Marshal’s entire mind seemed to be absorbed with Qian Lan. He spent less and less time on matters of governance, and though he smiled every day, his complexion was growing worse and worse.

This was not a good sign.

“San Yitai is too kind — this is simply what I ought to do.” Qian Lan gazed tenderly at Jing’er. “As long as Jing’er can grow up safe and healthy, a little effort on my part is only right.”

The Old Madam listened, nodding with approval and satisfaction.

As the family chatted about Jing’er, Shi Guang sat across the table at an angle from Yan Qing, his gaze drifting over her with carefully concealed deliberateness.

His eyes were full of warm tenderness, but with his head slightly bowed and the teacup raised to his lips, no one else at the table took notice.

Just like Shi Guang, Yin Minghui kept stealing glances at Shi Ting — but Shi Ting went on drinking his tea without acknowledging her at all.

Yin Minghui, knowing Shi Ting’s nature, didn’t take this to heart.

On what must have been the hundredth time Yin Minghui glanced toward Shi Ting, Qian Lan suddenly spoke up: “Marshal, Old Madam — now that everyone is gathered, I’d like to ask the Marshal and the Old Madam to make a decision about something.”

The Old Madam looked up from Jing’er. “What matter requires both of us together?”

Qian Lan turned toward Yin Minghui on her left. “It concerns Minghui’s marriage.”

“Oh? Minghui’s marriage? Shouldn’t that be the Qian Family’s decision to make? Surely this is not something we should be deciding.”

“During her time in our household,” Qian Lan said, “Minghui has developed mutual affection with one of the young masters here. She is a young lady and cannot speak of such things herself — so I have taken the liberty of asking the Marshal and the Old Madam to make the decision.”

“Now that is a happy thing.” Before the Old Madam could respond, the Marshal said with pleased surprise, “Which of my sons has caught her fancy?”

Qian Lan had said it was one of the young masters of the Shi household — which naturally pointed to either Shi Ting or Shi Guang.

“Xingzhi, Weizhi.” The Marshal looked toward his two sons. “Is there truth to this?”

Shi Ting said nothing. Shi Guang watched Shi Ting with an expression of undisguised satisfaction.

Shi Guang thought to himself: Shi Ting probably wanted to deny it all — to treat it as nothing more than a passing amusement. He just hadn’t expected Qian Lan to raise the matter openly in front of the Marshal and the Old Madam.

Whatever had happened between him and Yin Minghui behind closed doors was one thing, but now that it had been brought into the open, he couldn’t deny it even if he tried — Qian Lan had spoken, and the Marshal never refused her anything.

His gaze moved involuntarily back to Yan Qing, and something in his chest went soft.

Seeing that neither son had spoken, the Marshal frowned with displeasure. “What is wrong with the two of you? A true man has the courage of his convictions. If you’ve made promises to a young lady in private and now won’t own up to it in front of everyone —”

Then he turned to Yin Minghui: “Minghui, rest assured. With the Old Madam and myself here today to make the decision, the Shi household will not treat you poorly.”

Yin Minghui only kept stealing glances at Shi Ting, still not saying a word.

“Since Minghui is too shy to speak, allow me.” Qian Lan smiled. “Xingzhi — what do you think?”

Shi Ting raised his head, looking genuinely puzzled. “Why does the Madam ask me?”

“Is Minghui’s affection not directed at you?” Qian Lan was taken aback by his reaction. She began to doubt herself — had she misread the situation? But no, that was impossible. All the people she had sent to keep watch had come back reporting that Seventh Young Master and Yin Minghui had been exchanging glances and carrying on in secret.

Shi Ting frowned. “Miss Yin and I are merely acquaintances. I was kind enough to show her around the Shi Mansion — how does that translate into having feelings for her? Is there perhaps some misunderstanding here?”

Yin Minghui stared at him in shock. All pretense of composure gone, she shot back: “Seventh Young Master — how can you say that?”

“What does Miss Yin believe our relationship to be?” Shi Ting replied. “I simply showed Miss Yin around the Shi Mansion as a courtesy. How did that become evidence of my affection? Surely there must be some misunderstanding.”

“Minghui, what is going on?” Qian Lan looked at her niece with a baffled and displeased frown.

“You exchanged paper cranes with me every day as a way of declaring your feelings — are you saying that too was nothing?” Yin Minghui pressed.

“Paper cranes?” Qian Lan said. “What paper cranes?”

The Marshal and the Old Madam both turned to look, their expressions equally bewildered.

“Seventh Young Master sent me a paper crane every day,” Yin Minghui said. “The things written inside… just look for yourselves.”

And with that, she told Xue Tao to go back to their courtyard and fetch the items.

The moment he heard the words “paper cranes,” something lurched in Shi Guang’s chest. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing toward Yan Qing — who sat there with a serene expression, her face entirely still, betraying nothing of what she was thinking.

With Yin Minghui pointing to Shi Ting in front of all these people, Yan Qing ought to be shocked, or furious. Yet she sat there quietly, both hands wrapped around her teacup, as if the matter had nothing to do with her at all.

In one brief moment, Shi Guang seemed to understand something — and felt a chill of cold sweat break out across his entire body.

“Madam.” Shi Guang suddenly looked at Qian Lan and said: “I believe this is all a misunderstanding. Seventh Brother already has a wife — it would be impossible for him to be secretly involved with Miss Yin.”

“I am not mistaken,” Yin Minghui said urgently. “Those paper cranes were truly sent to me by Seventh Young Master. His feelings for me are real.”

Yan Qing raised her eyes and glanced at Shi Guang. He gave Qian Lan the faintest shake of his head — a gesture so subtle it would have been invisible to anyone not watching carefully.

“Perhaps it really is a misunderstanding,” Qian Lan said, her tone shifting abruptly after Shi Guang’s signal. “Minghui, let’s set this aside for now.”

But Yin Minghui was beyond listening. All reason had abandoned her — she could only fix her gaze on Shi Ting, her eyes full of hurt and confusion. “Seventh Young Master — was everything written in those paper cranes false? Do you truly feel nothing for me at all?”

Shi Ting looked genuinely perplexed. “Miss Yin, did I personally hand those paper cranes to you?”

“You had Jin Shan deliver them.”

“Jin Shan is just outside,” Shi Ting said. “We can call him in to settle the matter.”

The Marshal found himself with a headache. But with Yin Minghui insisting that Shi Ting had been carrying on with her in secret, he still had to give the Qian Family an answer.

“Bring Jin Shan in.”

Before long, Jin Shan strode in with broad, confident steps. He gave a bow to everyone present and stood quietly, awaiting questions.

“Jin Shan, Miss Yin says you were secretly passing messages between Xingzhi and Miss Yin. Is this true?” The Marshal drew himself up with his full authority, his voice carrying unmistakable gravity.

Jin Shan blinked, looking genuinely incredulous. “I beg Miss Yin to tell me — when exactly did I ever carry messages between Seventh Young Master and her?”

“It was you.” Xue Tao pointed at Jin Shan. “All those paper cranes were given to me by you.”

Jin Shan turned to the Marshal with a respectful bow. “Marshal, please see this clearly. Seventh Young Master and Seventh Young Mistress are deeply devoted to each other — he has never had any secret dealings with anyone. Not a word of what Miss Yin has said makes any sense to me.”

“My maidservant has already identified you,” Yin Minghui said, her voice rising. “How can you still deny it?”

“Miss Yin, your maidservant answers to you — naturally, whatever you say is what she’ll say.”

“You —” Yin Minghui’s face flushed red with anger.

The Marshal felt the headache deepening. He was going to have to decide which of these two people to believe.

If he had to choose, he naturally trusted his own son. He knew Shi Ting’s character well — he was not the kind of man to be promiscuous. And the depth of his feelings for Yan Qing he had seen plainly with his own eyes.

“Minghui.” Qian Lan’s voice took on a harder edge. “Since this is a misunderstanding, let’s not make any more of it. This matter is closed. As for your marriage, I will make the arrangements myself, and I’ll consult the Old Madam to find you a suitable match from a good family. You will not be treated poorly.”

Qian Lan had expected her pressure to make Yin Minghui back down — but she had miscalculated. Yin Minghui was easily led, yes, but also stubbornly single-minded. Once she had locked onto something, nine bulls couldn’t drag her away. Right now, all she wanted was for Shi Ting to admit to the feelings between them — nothing else in the world mattered.

“Could there be anything false about the words written in those paper cranes?” Yin Minghui disregarded Qian Lan’s warning tone entirely and stared directly at Shi Ting.

Yan Qing glanced at the expressions of Qian Lan and Shi Guang. When they had first sat down, both had been composed and at ease — they had clearly not anticipated things spinning out of control like this.

They wanted Yin Minghui to stop now — but she didn’t want to stop.

“I want an explanation,” Yan Qing said, her voice calm and unhurried. “Shi Ting — tell me what those paper cranes are all about. If you’ve been wrongly accused, then let Miss Yin produce them here for everyone to see.”

—