Zhao Hanzhang hadn’t planned to meet with the Shangcai County magistrate in the near future. First, she was still in mourning. Second, she hadn’t yet established a firm foothold in Shangcai.

But the magistrate specifically sent an invitation—no, invited Fu Tinghan—so she had no choice but to go out and meet him.

Previously at the library, she’d only heard that Professor Fu from the Mathematics Department was very handsome, taught excellently, and was warm and courteous to people. But upon arriving here, she discovered that warm and courteous could also be described as cold and distant.

This Professor Fu was indifferent about everything. When people spoke to him, he replied politely. When no one spoke to him, he could spend an entire day alone without initiating conversation.

With such a personality, if others bullied him, he might not even take it to heart. So Zhao Hanzhang felt she couldn’t let Professor Fu go to the appointment alone—she had to accompany him.

Moreover, this estate was hers. The magistrate approaching them now was very likely because they’d been recruiting people rather aggressively lately.

Fu Tinghan sat in the carriage, eyes lowered in thought, fingers moving on his knee, calculating something unknown.

Zhao Hanzhang propped her chin, watching him. In her memory, that first glimpse at the city gate showed a young man with sharp facial features and a cold aura, but his face had shown some panic at the time.

Things she’d never thought about before, when recalled now, all seemed to have traces.

Fu Tinghan calculated the formula he wanted, memorized it, then looked up, immediately meeting Zhao Hanzhang’s gaze.

He paused, his ears reddening slightly. He was about to look away when he reconsidered—that wasn’t right. He turned back to stare at her.

After watching for a while, he waved his hand before her eyes and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Zhao Hanzhang came back to herself, staring at his face. “I’m wondering what Professor Fu looks like as an adult.”

Fu Tinghan paused before saying, “Although I don’t remember very well myself, I should be able to roughly sketch it.”

Zhao Hanzhang’s eyes widened. “You actually forget what you look like? Was it caused by crossing over?”

“…No,” Fu Tinghan said. “I rarely look in mirrors, and people naturally find it difficult to completely replicate their own appearance because they see it so infrequently, overlooking many details. Didn’t you know?”

“I didn’t know.” She thought she couldn’t recall her adult appearance because she’d been blind. “I remember very clearly what I looked like before I went blind.”

“Really?” Fu Tinghan asked. “When you recall yourself, is the image in your mind from a particular photograph, or from a particular moment looking in a mirror?”

Zhao Hanzhang opened her mouth, unable to speak for a long time, because the clearest image of herself in her mind was from her middle school graduation photo, and the self she recalled most often was the one in the mirror, but that person in the mirror was very blurry—she actually couldn’t remember the specific features anymore.

Fu Tinghan looked away toward the window. “Few people remember what they themselves look like, but they definitely remember the appearance of those they see most often and most want to see.”

“Professor Fu can draw—could you draw me as an adult?” Zhao Hanzhang said. “Speaking of which, I’ve never actually seen myself grown up. I wonder if I turned out ugly.”

“No,” Fu Tinghan said. “You were very beautiful.”

Zhao Hanzhang looked at him with a smile.

Fu Tinghan’s face reddened slightly, but he held firm without looking away, even nodding at her to show he wasn’t lying.

The carriage stopped, and Ting He lifted the curtain. “Sanniang, Master Fu, we’ve arrived.”

Zhao Hanzhang withdrew her gaze and, supporting herself on Ting He’s hand, got out of the carriage. After standing steady, she turned back and extended her hand to Fu Tinghan, who was bending down to exit.

Fu Tinghan paused before placing his hand in her palm and stepping down using the stool.

Fu’an, who had extended his hand to help: …

He felt something was odd, but couldn’t quite say what.

Zhao Hanzhang looked up at the plaque—Chen’s Restaurant.

In these war-torn times, with the streets somewhat desolate, a restaurant still bustling with voices—it seemed the food here must be very good.

Also, Shangcai County appeared to have quite a few wealthy people.

Zhao Hanzhang said to Fu Tinghan, “Let’s go.”

The Shangcai County magistrate and his adviser were already waiting in the restaurant. They were on the second floor, with screens between tables—both elegant and well-ventilated, with ample space.

Hearing that the Zhao family carriage had arrived, the magistrate wanted to go down to greet them. Just as he reached the stairway, he ran right into the party of four coming up.

Zhao Hanzhang walked in front, Fu Tinghan slightly behind her but just at her height.

The magistrate looked at Zhao Hanzhang in surprise, then at Fu Tinghan, finally unable to resist glancing at his adviser.

The adviser also paused, then immediately nodded to the magistrate after recovering.

Before the magistrate could speak, Zhao Hanzhang had already begun with a smile. “You must be Magistrate Chai?”

Magistrate Chai nodded dumbly.

Zhao Hanzhang then clasped her hands in salute. “I am Zhao Sanniang of the Zhao clan, here to pay respects to the county magistrate.”

Having his guess confirmed, Magistrate Chai opened his mouth, taking quite a while to find his voice. He stepped aside. “My lady is too kind. Please take the seat of honor.”

Zhao Hanzhang asked Magistrate Chai to sit first. After he sat down, she and Fu Tinghan took their seats cross-legged, with her sitting directly opposite him.

Magistrate Chai: …

Zhao Hanzhang then turned her head, inviting the adviser to also sit. “Please sit down as well, sir, so we can talk.”

Chang Ning looked toward Magistrate Chai.

Magistrate Chai nodded slightly. He too felt he needed the adviser’s guidance.

The adviser sat down cross-legged as well, directly facing Fu Tinghan.

At the very moment of sitting down, Chang Ning seemed to grasp Zhao Hanzhang’s meaning.

His gaze slid back and forth between Fu Tinghan and Zhao Hanzhang. He couldn’t be blamed for overthinking—Zhao Hanzhang’s behavior was simply too obvious.

It seemed that from entering the restaurant, Zhao Hanzhang had consistently taken the leading position.

Chang Ning kept looking at Fu Tinghan. Seeing his calm expression revealed nothing, he could only give up and take the initiative in pleasantries. “Zhao Sanniang has been back home for over two months now, hasn’t she?”

“Yes,” Zhao Hanzhang looked at the somewhat uneasy Magistrate Chai opposite and sighed slightly. “Properly, we should have come to pay respects to the magistrate, but with mourning at home, it wasn’t appropriate to presumptuously visit. That’s why it was delayed. I never expected to trouble the magistrate to personally come and invite us.”

Magistrate Chai quickly said, “Not troublesome, not at all. We had nothing particular to do. It’s just that hearing Master Fu of the Fu family was here studying, we sent an invitation, wanting to discuss the classics with Master Fu. There was no other meaning.”

Fu Tinghan looked up at Zhao Hanzhang, some surprise in his eyes, silently asking with his gaze: Did you threaten him earlier?

Zhao Hanzhang returned his look. Was she that kind of person?

Since arriving in Shangcai County, she’d been very honest and well-behaved, hadn’t she?

Seeing him so nervous his forehead was sweating, Zhao Hanzhang felt they couldn’t be too direct—what if they frightened the magistrate?

So she followed his topic. “I wonder which book the magistrate wishes to discuss with Master Fu? I’ve also been reading recently—perhaps we share this affinity.”

—