As soon as the sun rose, fiery clouds gathered at the horizon. The sunlight, with its scorching brightness, made everything appear dazzlingly white.

Zhao Ling sat propped up against the headboard with a bundle as a cushion, reading a copy of “Thousand Family Sayings” that Fu Tingyun had somehow acquired yesterday. Fu Tingyun sat at the large round table in the outer room, flipping through “Annotations on the Four Books,” while Mo Yi practiced martial arts in the back courtyard, occasionally letting out powerful shouts that accentuated the surrounding tranquility.

What would be a good name?

Strong, resolute, wooden, reserved, near to benevolence.

To choose one character from these as a name… the child was born into poverty, and these characters seemed too dignified, not quite suitable.

The gentleman is peaceful but not proud; the petty man is proud but not peaceful… “Tai” (peaceful) has the meaning of safety. After a great calamity, one only seeks peace and safety. This name isn’t bad!

Fu Tingyun pondered, constantly feeling as if a probing gaze was vaguely falling upon her. But whenever she looked up, the gaze would vanish without a trace.

In this room, there was only she and Zhao Ling…

She looked toward Zhao Ling.

Zhao Ling was sitting quietly, reading his book.

His thin face was calm and peaceful, like moonlight shining on a courtyard, possessing an unwavering composure and ease.

Fu Tingyun felt somewhat embarrassed.

It probably wasn’t him, right?

Looking at him, he didn’t seem like someone who would peep at others!

Besides, what reason would he have to spy on her?

Fu Tingyun lowered her head.

Thinking about the words she had spoken last night… she could no longer act impulsively but must think thrice before acting. Otherwise, she would make herself a laughingstock again.

That probing gaze immediately returned.

Fu Tingyun frowned slightly and raised her head again.

The room was quiet, with only the rustling sound of Zhao Ling turning pages.

Fu Tingyun was momentarily stunned.

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Ling suddenly looked over, his gaze clear, like bright moonlight, gentle and luminous.

Fu Tingyun couldn’t help but feel guilty.

She had just suspected him…

“I feel like someone is staring at me,” Fu Tingyun pouted, “but I can’t find anyone…”

“Is that so!” Zhao Ling put down his book expressionlessly, his brow seemingly tinged with sternness. “I’ll get up and take a look.” He spoke slowly, his voice more deliberate than usual, as he supported himself to get out of bed.

“Or perhaps I’m being paranoid. You know, that little rascal came to steal food again last night!” Fu Tingyun hurriedly stopped him. “Besides, Mo Yi is downstairs!”

If someone had entered, and even Mo Yi couldn’t stop them, the injured Zhao Ling would be no match. By instinct, she felt that the gaze had no malice toward her. Why create unnecessary complications… Zhao Ling could be quite bad-tempered at times.

However, she couldn’t say this to Zhao Ling, lest it hurt his pride.

Zhao Ling said “Oh” and didn’t insist.

Fu Tingyun sighed in relief.

She poured him a cup of cool boiled water: “You’ve been reading for so long, do you want to rest a bit?”

Zhao Ling drank the water and handed the bowl back to Fu Tingyun: “Good idea! I’ll lie down for a while.”

Fu Tingyun helped him lie down.

He asked her, “What are you thinking about? You seem so lost in thought.”

Very lost in thought?

Fu Tingyun asked herself.

She didn’t feel that way.

“Does the Ninth Master remember Zheng San Niang,” she closed the book and placed it beside Zhao Ling’s pillow, “the woman I gave two steamed buns to,” she sat on the stool at the head of the bed, “yesterday afternoon, she came again with her child, saying her husband wanted me to give the child a name, so the child would remember all his life who saved him…” She rambled on about the whole story, “…I’ve been flipping through books for half a day and still haven’t found a suitable name.” She frowned with a touch of frustration, “What do you think of the name Zheng Tai?”

A name stays with a person for life, and on this matter, she was quite indecisive.

Zhao Ling thought for a moment and said, “Tai is not very good. Tai has the meaning of safety, but in the ‘Book of Changes,’ it also has the meaning of ‘small goes out, great comes in.’ I think it’s better to choose another character.” He pondered, “…how about Linchun?” As he spoke, his gaze fell on Fu Tingyun. “After danger, people only seek peace and prosperity. You saved this child in Linchun Town. Spring is the first of the four seasons, symbolizing vibrant life. I think this name is the best!”

He even knew the “Book of Changes”…

Fu Tingyun understood Zhao Ling even less.

Zhao Ling, seeing her clear, curious eyes looking at him, hesitated briefly and said, “When I was young, my mother had high expectations for me and started my education at three. Later, our family fortunes declined, and we couldn’t afford my studies… I just know a little bit about various things.”

Fu Tingyun recalled that he had once said he learned to write from his mother since childhood.

“Your mother must be an exceptionally intelligent person!”

The gentleness gradually disappeared from Zhao Ling’s face, and there was a hint of coldness at the corners of his eyes and brows. He remained silent for a long time.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Fu Tingyun felt she had said something she shouldn’t have.

“Linchun is a good name!” she smiled and changed the subject, trying to liven up the atmosphere again. “Linchun, Linchun, it means the coming of spring. We also regained our vitality in this town. This name is good!”

Hearing this, Zhao Ling smiled at her, like ice and snow melting, his brow once again showing some gentleness.

Fu Tingyun breathed a sigh of relief.

Someone came “thump, thump, thump” up the stairs.

Mo Yi’s voice sounded in the stairwell: “Brother Zhao! Brother Zhao!”

Fu Tingyun got up to open the door.

Mo Yi was carrying a two-foot-square kneading board that Fu Tingyun had used to knead dough yesterday, and he also held several pieces of wood.

“This cursed weather is so hot it makes one’s throat smoke.” He strode in and placed the board on the table. “I’ve made a set of Chinese chess, let’s play!”

On the pieces of wood were charcoal-written characters like “cannon” and “soldier.”

Zhao Ling smiled and rose: “Why don’t I go downstairs to play a couple of games with Brother Mo?”

Mo Yi knew he was worried about leaving the downstairs empty, allowing someone to steal food from the kitchen.

“Don’t worry,” Mo Yi laughed heartily, his laughter full of pride. “Someone is helping us watch the door.” Without waiting for Zhao Ling to ask further, he added, “I promised that little rascal who comes to steal food ten steamed buns a day, and he immediately agreed to help us watch the door.”

“Ten steamed buns?” Last night’s dinner and today’s breakfast were all made by Fu Tingyun. She couldn’t help but ask, “Where does Manager Mo get the steamed buns?”

“You’ll make them later!” Mo Yi widened his eyes. “Isn’t cooking a woman’s job?”

Although this was true, Mo Yi’s matter-of-fact attitude somehow made Fu Tingyun feel slightly uncomfortable.

Zhao Ling noticed this and smiled, saying, “Since that’s the case, I’m sure Brother Mo wouldn’t mind giving two more steamed buns?”

Mo Yi was slightly surprised.

Zhao Ling said, “You remember that woman with the child, right? Why not hire her to cook for us!”

Mo Yi was stunned at first, then looked at Fu Tingyun with a teasing smile, laughing so hard that Fu Tingyun felt both embarrassed and angry. She even resented Zhao Ling, glaring at him several times.

Zhao Ling turned his head away, pretending not to see.

But then he exclaimed, “Oh!” and pointed outside the window: “Brother Mo, look!”

Mo Yi, hearing this, darted to the window in one swift move, placing his hand on Zhao Ling’s shoulder: “There are about twenty people, both old and young, including four women and two children…” As he spoke, he leaped downstairs and jumped onto the street. “I’ll go take a look and be back soon!” he shouted to Zhao Ling, his figure quickly disappearing down the street.

Fu Tingyun walked over quickly and saw a group of people coming along the postal road, so far away they were barely larger than shadow puppets, impossible to distinguish whether they were male or female, old or young.

“This Mo Yi certainly has good eyesight.” Mo Yi’s words still echoed in Fu Tingyun’s ears, and she looked somewhat embarrassed.

Zhao Ling softly “hmm-ed” in agreement, staring in the direction of the postal road with a very solemn expression.

Fu Tingyun dared not say more and stood quietly beside him.

She did not notice Zhao Ling’s glance at her.

Soon, Mo Yi returned: “It’s nothing, it’s nothing. They’re from Jiuligou. They say there seems to be an epidemic outbreak there, so their entire village is heading south together, planning to go to Huguang, and they’re passing through Linchun Town.” He then beckoned to Zhao Ling, “Come, come, come, let’s play chess!”

…

The group did not merely stop in Linchun Town as Mo Yi had said, but stayed. Moreover, relying on their numbers and having several men skilled in fighting, they occupied three storefronts at the head of the street.

When Zheng San Niang told Fu Tingyun about this, she was very worried: “That house’s backyard has a well that still has water. The whole town relies on that well for drinking water. There will be fights later.”

Fu Tingyun was not worried about this.

With Mo Yi around, this issue should not be difficult to resolve.

She was concerned about Zheng San: “Haven’t you told him? You can come cook for us and get two steamed buns every day. Tell him not to eat that white soil anymore.”

“I told him!” Zheng San Niang lowered her head in shame. “He said that you people are capable, but only temporarily staying in Linchun Town. Once you leave, we’ll have nothing to eat again. These steamed buns should be saved for me and Linchun.”

Zheng San Niang really liked the name Zhao Ling had given her child, often carrying him and calling “Linchun, Linchun.” She also said that Zheng San thought the name was good, clear, and easy to understand.

Just as they were talking, Mo Yi walked in.

Seeing Zheng San Niang holding her child and tending the fire at the kitchen door, and Fu Tingyun with a cloth wrapped around her hair, making pancakes at the stove, his face darkened: “If this woman doesn’t know how to cook, find another one. For two steamed buns, I don’t believe anyone would be willing to come.”

Zheng San Niang was already afraid of him, and his words frightened her so much that her face turned pale, her whole body trembling, unable to stand for a long time.

“Manager Mo, please don’t concern yourself with kitchen matters,” Fu Tingyun gave her a confident look, indicating she need not panic, and looked at Mo Yi, saying, “Manager Mo, just tell me what you want to eat today!”

According to common custom, household matters were decided by the woman who managed the inner quarters.

Mo Yi was suddenly at a loss for words, his lips twitching for a good while, and finally left without saying a word.

“Miss is so formidable!” Zheng San Niang finally caught her breath, looking at Fu Tingyun with admiration.

It seems this Mo Yi’s background might not be too low!

Fu Tingyun pondered and took the opportunity to remind Zhao Ling while serving him medicine.

Zhao Ling “hmm-ed” in acknowledgment, showing no surprise, but instead said, “You said that Zheng San used to be an escort? Then ask Zheng San Niang if Zheng San would be willing to take on a job.”