After hearing Liu Hui’s words, Lin Aiyun vaguely understood the deeper meaning she was trying to convey. She knew Liu Hui was genuinely looking out for her—but being on the outside looking in, there were many things she couldn’t comprehend, and Lin Aiyun had no way to explain.
“Thank you for your recognition, Auntie Hui. If it can sell for a good price, of course I’m willing to part with it. Having money gives you more choices in life.” Lin Aiyun lowered her gaze. When she looked up again, a faint smile touched her lips: “As long as you’re living comfortably and happily, it doesn’t really matter where you are or who you’re with, does it?”
“…”
After a long silence, Liu Hui sighed: “Only you know whether it’s warm or cold. As long as you have no regrets.”
“Mm. I won’t regret it.”
The two had essentially peeled back most of the unspoken layer between them. Knowing each other’s firm resolve, there was no need to keep advising one another. Everyone had their own path to walk—too much interference wouldn’t help, and letting go at the right time was also a form of respect.
“Then let me see if I can help you sell it. If you have free time, you can also embroider some pieces with auspicious themes—I’m sure more people would be interested.”
“I’ll leave it to you then.”
By the time she left the Liu household, it was already getting late. Remembering Zhang Wenyue’s words, she quickened her pace home. As she reached the mouth of the alley, she instinctively looked up.
Niu Wenshan’s front door was plastered with seals—desolate and deserted, the place already unrecognizable.
Feeling a little uneasy, Lin Aiyun hurried past with her head down. It was only when she could see the roof of the Ding house that she slowed down. But just as she relaxed, someone gave her shoulder a heavy pat—the force of it made half her body sink.
Her breath caught. A strange sensation she hadn’t felt in a long time crept up from her feet. Before she could turn around, a familiar low voice sounded by her ear, its tail rising slightly.
“Hey, Teacher Lin, why are you shaking?”
Lin Aiyun whipped her head around. It was Xiao Cheng, dressed in black from head to toe—the fabric clung slightly to his frame, outlining his tall, lean figure. He was so tall he blocked out most of the setting sun.
His hair was jet black, tinted a soft, warm hue under the golden light.
“Looking all dazed. Let’s go—I’m here to take you back.” Xiao Cheng rubbed the back of his neck irritably. Heaven knew how he’d been tormented by nightmares these past few days without her.
Sure enough, he needed to keep her by his side at all times.
When she didn’t answer for a while, he looked down and met her gaze. Those big, blinking eyes were suddenly glistening with tears, hanging there threatening to fall—enough to make anyone’s heart ache.
“I didn’t even hit you that hard, did I? It’s not like—” Xiao Cheng glanced at the hand he’d used to greet her, then stopped mid-sentence, frowning: “Who bullied you?”
It was phrased as a question, but his tone carried certainty.
Damn it—aside from in his dreams, he’d hardly ever seen her cry. Now she was tearing up the moment she saw him. She must have been really wronged. Which blind idiot was responsible?
Still, at least she knew to cry in front of him instead of bottling it up alone.
“No one bullied me. It’s just… you suddenly appeared and scared me.” Lin Aiyun wiped her face. That wasn’t entirely untrue—but her red eyes were the result of a mix of emotions: lingering fear from past events, the shock of being startled, and tears of joy at seeing Xiao Cheng return.
But Xiao Cheng didn’t know that. This was the first time anyone had left him speechless—no, to be precise, he’d been left speechless by his own words.
So he was the blind idiot?
“That easily scared?” Xiao Cheng glanced at her, and only when he saw her smile return did he change the subject: “Where did you go? You were out so late—I haven’t even eaten, waiting for you.”
Actually, he’d just arrived and had spotted her before he even got out of the car. But if he hadn’t said that, how else would he get her to hurry up?
Sure enough, the little figure sprang into action the moment she heard that: “I went to see Auntie Hui. I didn’t know you were coming back today. Wait for me—I’ll go grab my things and be right back. Just a little longer.”
“Hurry up.” Xiao Cheng made no move to follow her inside. He stood there, waving his hand.
Lin Aiyun ran forward two steps, then turned back to look at him. But he’d already looked away, rubbing his temples. He looked utterly exhausted.
Was his sleep bad again?
Back at the Ding house, Zhang Wenyue had already made most of the meal. Lin Aiyun packed her things, briefly explained the situation, and prepared to leave.
“In such a rush? Wait—take these two sweet potatoes to eat on the way. Be careful.” Zhang Wenyue hurriedly stuffed two sweet potatoes into her hands and didn’t ask any more questions.
Lately, Lin Aiyun had been visibly cheerful, with a sweet tongue—even Zhang Wenhua, stubborn as she was, had been convinced and stopped pushing her to find a match.
It seemed she was doing quite well as a calligraphy teacher at that household.
That was enough to set her mind at ease.
When Lin Aiyun ran up to Xiao Cheng, she was out of breath, her words coming in fragments: “I—I’m ready.”
“That’s all you’ve got?” Xiao Cheng looked at the two bags in her hands—one big, one small—barely more than his little sister would take for a trip.
“Huh? Yeah.” What else was there?
Xiao Cheng looked at her matter-of-fact, puzzled expression, his brow furrowing into a deep crease. He reached over, took the bags from her hands, and headed toward the car parked in the corner not far away.
“There’s some food in the bag—if you don’t mind, Mr. Xiao, you can have something to eat first.” It was still a fair distance back to the villa.
Xiao Cheng glanced at the small bag in his hand, which held two cooked sweet potatoes, their skins already peeled, clean and inviting. A faint, pleasant aroma—the simple scent of food—wafted up.
“So thoughtful?” You even remembered to bring him food.
“…” Actually, if her aunt hadn’t shoved them into her hands, she wouldn’t have thought to bring any. She’d assumed that with Xiao Cheng’s current picky nature, he wouldn’t eat such plain food, so she’d planned to cook for him once they got back to the villa.
But hearing the pleased tone in his voice, she decided to keep her mouth shut.
Before long, the scent of sweet potato filled the car. A bit of mashed potato clung to his long, pale fingers. Lin Aiyun timely handed him a handkerchief. He took it without ceremony and wiped his hands.
“Where’s Zhou Jin?” Doesn’t he usually drive for you?
Xiao Cheng paused mid-wipe and shot her a look: “You need something from him?”
“No, just asking.” Lin Aiyun shook her head. Her intuition told her Xiao Cheng’s good mood had soured considerably—but why? Just because she’d mentioned Zhou Jin? Had Zhou Jin done something to piss him off these past few days?
What bad luck—she’d stepped right into the line of fire.
“Stop asking about men’s business.” Xiao Cheng’s gaze bore into her, his long lashes still, not missing a single flicker of emotion on her face.
“Oh.” Fine, don’t ask then—but why take it out on her? Lin Aiyun pressed her lips together and tucked the used handkerchief into her pocket.
“Oh? Just one word again. I didn’t say anything wrong, and now she’s getting all huffy—who’s she giving attitude to?”
The atmosphere in the car suddenly turned cold. Xiao Cheng drove in silence while Lin Aiyun played invisible passenger, watching the scenery outside. The sunset glow against the distinctive southern architecture—long eaves stretching out—had a unique beauty of its own.
“You—”
“You—”
As they neared the villa, they spoke at the same time.
“Say what you have to say.” A small smile tugged at one corner of Xiao Cheng’s mouth. See? She was the one caving first.
As if you didn’t have something to say too.
But she only dared to grumble inwardly. On the surface, she kept a smile: “Mr. Xiao, what would you like for dinner?”
“Whatever.”
What else had she expected him to say?
“Alright then. I’ll just throw together a couple of dishes.”
Xiao Cheng nodded, then said: “Don’t forget tomorrow morning.”
“What?” Lin Aiyun didn’t immediately catch his meaning. She turned to him in confusion.
At that moment, the car pulled into the garage. Xiao Cheng pulled out the keys, and as he killed the engine, the headlights went out, plunging them into darkness.
“Teacher Lin’s memory isn’t so great, is it?” In the confined space of the car, Xiao Cheng rested his arms on the steering wheel and turned his head to stare at her, unblinking. Moonlight filtered through the windshield, just enough to make out the hint of a smirk on his lips.
Lin Aiyun’s mind raced, and she finally remembered what he was talking about. She nodded quickly: “I’ll be at the door on time tomorrow—really, I didn’t forget.”
She looked like she was desperately trying to deny his accusation about her bad memory.
Xiao Cheng laughed. The corners of his mouth curved, his shoulders shaking with amusement. A low, magnetic chuckle escaped his throat as he watched her flustered expression. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and ruffled her hair.
The moment his palm made contact, both of them froze.
Lin Aiyun’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes flew up, long lashes trembling. Those bright, clear eyes fixed on him for a moment before darting away. The spot where he’d touched her began to tingle faintly.
Meanwhile, the culprit—as innocent as could be—naturally withdrew his hand.
“Come on. Let’s go inside.”
But no one saw that after Xiao Cheng got out and closed the door, he took several deep breaths to steady his racing heart. For the first time in his life, he’d tasted the bitter flavor of being at a loss. Tonight, he’d gotten a full serving.
They entered the villa one after another. The moment the lights came on, the house—silent for days—suddenly felt alive again. Xiao Cheng, for once, didn’t head straight upstairs. Instead, he helped carry her things into her room.
“Thank you.” The bags weren’t heavy—she could have carried them herself. But since he didn’t seem to want to let go, she let him follow her in.
Xiao Cheng stood by the door and looked around. His brow gradually furrowed.
The room was clean and tidy, the bed neatly made. Apart from a few items on the desk, it looked almost exactly as it had before anyone had lived there.
She’d stayed here so many days, yet left barely a trace of herself.
The sound of the wardrobe door opening drew his gaze away from the desk. He followed the noise and saw the empty closet.
It didn’t look like a young girl’s room at all—more like a temporary stopover at a hostel, one she could leave at any time.
Realizing this, Xiao Cheng’s expression shifted through several shades before settling back to calm.
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