Shen Shaoguang invited Liu Feng to sit at a single small dining table, taking her seat opposite him, and had A-Yuan serve a milk drink.

Liu Feng glanced at Shen Shaoguang, his face slightly flushed, then fixed his gaze on the wooden grain of the table. “What did Young Lady wish to discuss with me?”

“Does Master Liu know about my background?” Shen Shaoguang asked gently.

“I heard from Master Jingqing at Guangming Temple.”

Shen Shaoguang nodded, imagining what Jingqing must have said: “A refined lady of the Shen family from Luoyang,” “Though fallen on hard times and forced to run a small business, she’s well-versed in poetry and literature, with broad knowledge,” and perhaps even freely offered praise like “virtuous and dutiful” and “gentle and modest”—Jingqing was kindhearted and must have thought finding a husband like Liu Feng would spare her from street-side labor, thus speaking well of her.

“I merely stay at Guangming Temple, and there are some things Master Jingqing doesn’t know,” Shen Shaoguang explained with a smile.

“I am from the Shen family of Luoyang, and was released as a palace maid this spring.”

Liu Feng suddenly looked up. Daughters of noble families who entered the palace usually became consorts, rarely serving as palace maids—unless their families were convicted of crimes and they were conscripted into service. Since Young Lady Shen was released, she wasn’t a consort, which meant only one thing…

Knowing he understood her meaning, and since he had shown her respect, she couldn’t let him think she was “spurning the poor for the rich” or “going back on her word,” so she had prepared an excuse for why the marriage couldn’t proceed: “I have no interest in marriage now, I only wish to establish myself, earn money, support my family, buy property, cook chickens and ducks…” By the end, it had become somewhat of a joke, and Shen Shaoguang laughed first.

Liu Feng smiled slightly as well.

“I was presumptuous,” After a moment of silence, Liu Feng stood and gave Shen Shaoguang a cupped-hand salute.

Shen Shaoguang also stood and properly returned his greeting with a woman’s bow, smiling, “It was my honor.”

Liu Feng licked his lips, wanting to say something, but ultimately said nothing and left with his head lowered.

Unexpectedly, he met his superior, Assistant Magistrate Lin, at the door—was he here to eat?

Liu Feng bowed to Lin Yan.

Lin Yan nodded and entered the shop.

“What would the guest like to eat? Perhaps a bowl of chicken soup noodles? With some cold cucumber salad and shrimp paste fried eggs?”

“Good.”

Faintly hearing Young Lady Shen listing dishes and his superior’s characteristically concise “good,” Liu Feng realized he was overthinking things. Young Lady Shen and Assistant Magistrate Lin… impossible.

Liu Feng guessed that Assistant Magistrate Lin had probably been tortured by Minister Zhang of the Court of State Ceremonial until evening, breaking curfew to return, and likely hadn’t eaten well, so he came out for a late snack.

Recently, foreign diplomatic missions had been arriving in clusters, and while the Court of State Ceremonial was mainly responsible for reception, many matters required coordination with the Capital Prefecture, with Assistant Magistrate Lin in charge.

The two offices frequently interacted, and Liu Feng had some understanding of the Minister of State Ceremonial. This Minister Zhang was extremely detail-oriented—even for matters of two carriages, he would say “Let’s discuss this further” and then “The Book of Rites says… during the Han Dynasty… during Emperor Taizong’s reign… during Emperor Gaozong’s reign… during Emperor Xuanzong’s reign…” It was truly headache-inducing.

Today at noon when he went to have Assistant Magistrate Lin sign documents, he wasn’t there, having gone to the Court of State Ceremonial… Liu Feng felt some sympathy for his young superior—high rank and position came with their troubles.

Shen Shaoguang felt somewhat helpless—why did he always come at this hour? The food was all sold out!

She could only work with what was left. The jarred chicken was gone, but there was still some chicken broth—she could make noodles with it, and add some vegetables for a bowl of chicken soup noodles. She peeled a cucumber, smashed it, and dressed it with minced garlic, light sauce, and sesame oil; then quickly stir-fried two eggs with some chives and a spoonful of shrimp paste. All quick dishes would be ready shortly.

The sound of the chopping board, the sizzle of the wok—although the shop’s renovations meant the kitchen couldn’t be seen, these sounds alone carried the full flavor of earthly life.

Lin Yan turned his head back, his gaze falling on a wall painting: misty mountains in the distance, a curved stream, a small thatched cottage, a wine banner beside the door, and under it sat a boy peeling lotus pods. It used no color, only ink outlines and shading. Though not particularly skillful, it had a certain vitality and tranquility. Though it had no title, inscription, or seal, Lin Yan knew it was painted by the shop owner.

Lin Yan suddenly recalled the incident at the palace gate.

That day at court they had discussed drought relief measures. After court, he went to check on Anfu Gate—though releasing palace maids was a minor matter, it was part of the drought relief policy, and they couldn’t afford any mistakes.

From afar, he had noticed a smiling young lady among a group of weeping elderly palace women.

The current emperor wasn’t yet thirty and had no empress, with few high-ranking consorts, so palace maids should have…

Yet she had worn the vibrant look of a bird freed from its cage. What had she said? “Ill health”… It was obvious she hadn’t been pushed out but had sought to leave on her own, probably using various means and money. At the time, infected by her vitality, he had softened and let her pass.

Since leaving, she had remained vibrant, carrying a “wildness” rare among noble children, like spring grass, making one curious to see how far she would spread.

Coming out of the palace, she had headed straight for this small shop of spring chives and millet—was there anything interesting about it? Lin Yan’s gaze swept across the small shop front, landing again on that painting, and indeed found some interest in it.

Perhaps everyone in high office harbored dreams of being a recluse, just as everyone outside the court dreamed of power. Lin Yan was genuinely touched by the painting’s sense of reclusion but for a young lady of the Shen family… Thinking of Clerk Liu’s dejected appearance just now, and how he would rather go hungry than not buy Shen’s pancakes before, could it be…

Lin Yan suddenly frowned—why think about these irrelevant matters? As a child, he could spin a tale from seeing a moth; had that habit not been broken? He then turned his thoughts to the matter of the diplomatic missions.

Shen Shaoguang brought the dishes and noodles over on a tray, setting them on the small table. She noticed that Assistant Magistrate Lin never sat at the long tables, probably disliking facing walls…

“Please enjoy your meal, guest.”

Lin Yan nodded in thanks.

A-Yuan carried clean cups, plates, bowls, and chopsticks from the back. Shen Shaoguang had nearly finished tidying the kitchen and told her to take some hot water back to the temple first to wash up, saying she would lock up later.

“I’ll wait for Young Lady.”

Shen Shaoguang said softly: “You go first, there are still plenty of people on the street, it’s fine.” The child was tired from working all day and never seemed to get enough sleep—better to let her go back early to wash up and sleep.

A-Yuan shook her head and, seeing no more work to do, went to sit on the steps outside, waiting for Shen Shaoguang.

Shen Shaoguang smiled helplessly.

Standing behind the counter, chin in hand, Shen Shaoguang thought about Liu Feng’s matter.

How many cases of love at first sight, of “none but you,” were there really? This was normal people doing normal things. But, having never had a boyfriend or married in her previous life before transmigrating, it seemed she was destined to be single in this life too—no wonder she lived in a Buddhist nunnery. When she got old and lonely in the future—Shen Shaoguang imagined herself living in a large mansion, surrounded by servants, watching the snow in winter, eating melons in summer, specifically finding someone literate to read stories to her… that wouldn’t be bad either!

So, time to make money first!

When Lin Yan finished eating, he turned to see Shen Shaoguang wearing a peaceful expression. “Shop owner—”

“Coming! Has the guest finished eating?” Shen Shaoguang instantly switched to a polite and attentive smile.

Lin Yan nodded.

“One hundred cash, guest.” Of that, twenty was cost, and the rest was labor and overtime pay. This fellow always came at this hour and ordered special stir-fries—charging a bit more wasn’t unreasonable.

Lin Yan took out a small piece of silver from his purse, set it down, and walked out.

Another two taels or so—Shen Shaoguang felt she was one step closer to living like a landlady, and her mood greatly improved!

After washing the bowls and chopsticks, extinguishing the lights, and locking up, Shen Shaoguang patted A-Yuan, who had fallen asleep on the steps, “Let’s go, time to sleep!”