Hearing Zhang Wenyue’s question, Lin Aiyun knew exactly what she was really asking. But at a time like this, the more she rushed to deny it, the more flustered she’d appear, and the less her aunt would believe her.
So she simply held her teacup, pretending not to understand, blinked, and answered calmly: “I sleep in the first room upstairs.”
Sure enough, seeing her calm, innocent expression, Zhang Wenyue believed her. Still, she couldn’t help sweeping her eyes over Lin Aiyun once more. Finding nothing unusual, she finally relaxed.
Having asked the most important question, Zhang Wenyue still had a dozen more to go—and she planned to take this chance to talk some sense into Lin Aiyun, to make sure she wasn’t being led around by some scheming older man just because of her youth and inexperience.
“Are you planning to tell your mother about this? You can’t just keep dating in this vague, undefined state forever, can you? Has he said anything about marriage?” Three questions in a row, each hitting right at the heart of the matter.
Lin Aiyun pressed her lips together, feeling a headache coming on. She forced a dry smile: “I was planning to…”
Her voice trailed off under Zhang Wenyue’s withering stare. The words “talk about it later” died in her throat. She realized that even if she didn’t say anything, her aunt would relay everything to her mother. So she nodded sincerely: “I will definitely tell her.”
“But as for marriage—I haven’t discussed it with him yet.”
“What do you mean ‘him’? What’s his name? How old is he?” Only now did Zhang Wenyue realize she hadn’t even asked for the most basic information about the man—she’d been too focused on her niece.
“His name is Xiao Cheng. He’s two years older than me.”
So he wasn’t much older. But the aura and pressure in his eyes weren’t something an ordinary young man possessed—clearly, he wasn’t a simple person.
“His accent isn’t local—he’s from the north, isn’t he?”
Lin Aiyun nodded. “He’s from the capital. He came here specifically to see Dr. Liu.”
That reminded Zhang Wenyue of one of the reasons she’d been so comfortable letting Lin Aiyun take this job—she’d said the man was Dr. Liu’s patient, someone trustworthy.
So it seemed the two of them might have taken a liking to each other back then?
At the same time, Zhang Wenyue caught another key detail. Her sharp eyes fixed on Lin Aiyun: “For treatment? What kind of illness?”
What kind of illness would make someone travel all the way from the capital to their small county? It couldn’t be something serious. If it were, and he ended up in the ground after just a few years, her niece would be a widow. That wouldn’t do—absolutely not.
“It’s just insomnia—he couldn’t sleep. He’s fine now. It’s not serious.”
Zhang Wenyue looked at her with obvious skepticism. Only then did Lin Aiyun realize: the more she said, the more it sounded like an excuse.
“Really, Auntie, I’m not lying. Does he look sickly to you?”
He certainly didn’t—in fact, he looked like he could knock out an ox with one punch. Tall and strong.
“How many people are in his family? Being so far away, would they agree to you marrying him?” The more Zhang Wenyue heard, the more worried she got. Since he’d come for treatment and was now cured, he’d probably be heading back soon—he couldn’t stay here forever.
The capital was a world away—thousands of miles from here. Would he really want to marry Aiyun? Even if he did, would his parents agree to a daughter-in-law from so far away?
And setting aside his family’s side, her own sister would never want her daughter to marry so far from home. If she were mistreated in her in-laws’ house, she’d have no one to turn to.
Marrying far away was a huge gamble—not something you jumped into lightly.
The more Zhang Wenyue thought about it, the more she felt this was doomed from the start. Her brow was so furrowed it could crush a fly.
“He has a sister, I think. I don’t know much else.” Actually, she did know—but that was from past-life memories. In this life, she genuinely didn’t know anything besides his sister living in the capital.
“You don’t know anything, and you still got together with him? You foolish girl—you’re going to drive me crazy. If your mother finds out, she’ll kill you.” Zhang Wenyue couldn’t help herself—she clenched her fist and gave Lin Aiyun’s thigh a couple of solid thumps, her voice rising, her face red as a boiled shrimp.
“Have you two never even discussed marriage? Aiyun, think about it—what if one day he goes back to the capital and tosses you a few bills to settle the score? Where would you go to cry?”
“He wouldn’t do that.” The words came out before Lin Aiyun could stop them, and even she was startled. It sounded exactly like a scene where a naive girl, led astray, refuses to listen to her elders’ advice and insists on trusting her man over her own blood.
Ordinarily, you’d take the good parts of your elders’ advice and leave the rest. But she wasn’t just trusting the Xiao Cheng who had showered her with affection these past few days—she was also trusting the Xiao Cheng who had cherished and protected her for most of her past life.
He wouldn’t let her lose.
Fuming, Zhang Wenyue took a deep breath and was about to say more when a low voice from behind cut her off.
“Auntie, you jest. After marriage, all my money is hers—there’s no such thing as ‘settling a score.’”
Hearing the resolute words, Zhang Wenyue whipped around and met a pair of hawk-like eyes. Beneath those dark pupils swirled an unfathomable mist. He walked slowly to stand beside Lin Aiyun, tall and straight.
Unlike his casual attire earlier, he had now changed into a slightly more formal outfit—a black shirt tucked neatly into tailored trousers, the top two buttons undone, revealing his refined collarbones and the long line of his neck.
A pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat on his high nose bridge. Beneath the lenses, his long lashes lowered slightly, a faint smile in his eyes—yet it was a smile that didn’t quite reach the surface, deep and unfathomable. His jawline was impeccably defined, exuding an air of aristocracy, and his every move carried a restrained elegance.
A far cry from the brash, rakish first impression he’d given, the Xiao Cheng before her now struck Zhang Wenyue as much more scholarly—restrained and ascetic, yet carrying an aloofness that set him apart from the worldly.
And his words were nothing less than a declaration of intent. Neither of them were fools—they understood the implication: he intended to marry Lin Aiyun, and after marriage, his money would be hers to manage.
But how much of that was true remained to be seen. Zhang Wenyue didn’t know him well enough to vouch for his integrity, so she remained skeptical.
“I can’t accept being called ‘Auntie’ just yet.” Zhang Wenyue made no move to stand. She narrowed her eyes, unruffled by Xiao Cheng’s presence or his words—she wouldn’t cower or fawn over him because of his status or wealth.
She’d always been a strong-willed woman; otherwise, she couldn’t have managed a household. Her gentleness at home didn’t mean she’d be the same with outsiders. Here, she represented Aiyun’s family, and she had to keep her back straight to ensure he wouldn’t look down on them.
Hearing this, Xiao Cheng didn’t take offense at the rebuff. Instead, he sidestepped the topic of address and spoke again with a faint smile: “My name is Xiao Cheng. I’m from the capital. My parents passed away early in an accident. There are no elders with authority over me—just a younger sister, two years my junior.”
Zhang Wenyue’s ears perked up, a slight furrow forming on her brow. In ordinary families, a man without parents was often considered a poor match: first, because there was no one to oversee the household, making it prone to dissolution; second, because the young couple would lack support and have to rely entirely on themselves, making the early years much harder.
But in a wealthy family like this, having no parents meant all the inheritance was his alone. And for a daughter-in-law, no in-laws above her meant she’d step into the role of head of the household from day one—life would be nothing but comfortable.
Even if there was a younger sister, she’d likely marry off eventually. Even if she didn’t, she couldn’t live with her brother and sister-in-law forever—she wouldn’t cause much trouble.
Zhang Wenyue was a long-term thinker. Regarding this point, though she sympathized with Xiao Cheng’s loss, as an outsider she only sighed briefly before focusing on what mattered most for Aiyun.
Her gaze swept over Xiao Cheng’s face, then drifted down—only to spot her niece’s small hand hidden behind her back, holding his. Did they think everyone was blind?
But thinking it was her way of comforting him, Zhang Wenyue decided to turn a blind eye.
“Aside from myself, no one can decide on my marriage.” Xiao Cheng tightened his grip, holding Lin Aiyun’s hand in return. Old wounds still ached faintly, but her warmth soothed them, sending a tremor through his heart.
A burning light slowly kindled in his eyes. He spoke slowly: “Aiyun is wonderful. I genuinely love her. I’ll take responsibility for her—I won’t let her suffer grievances, nor will I let her endure hardship. Everything I have, I’ll give to her.”
Lin Aiyun turned to look at him. This man, so rarely given to sweet talk, had said so much today—and in front of her family, no less. Of course she was moved. Her lips couldn’t help but curl upward, even as a sheen of moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes.
Her lips moved, but for a moment, no words came.
Then his palm tightened again, their fingers interlacing as if he wanted to meld her into himself.
Their gazes met, and everything was said without a word.
Watching this, Zhang Wenyue felt as if pebbles had been thrown into a calm lake, ripples spreading one after another. A person’s eyes don’t lie—this man Xiao Cheng’s feelings for Aiyun were real, and his words were sincere.
But the same could be said of feelings—they were the most prone to change. When a man loves you, he holds you in his palm like a treasure; when he doesn’t, you’re worth no more than a pile of dog crap, perhaps even less.
But that was true of most men. Since you couldn’t predict the future, you might as well choose the best option available to make your own life more comfortable.
Setting everything else aside, Xiao Cheng was flawless from head to toe—handsome enough to be a lucky charm in the house. Even if they argued, looking at that face would make the heart feel a little lighter.
And ultimately, she had to live her own life. As long as Lin Aiyun loved him and had no regrets, everyone else’s opinions were just references.
Finally, Zhang Wenyue let out a long sigh: “I’m not Aiyun’s parent after all. Save those words for her father and mother.”
“Thank you, Auntie.” Lin Aiyun understood that this meant Xiao Cheng had mostly passed her aunt’s test. She looked at Zhang Wenyue with gratitude, and her aunt met her gaze, adding one last piece of advice:
“Your mother doesn’t want you to marry far away. Think carefully about how you’ll tell her.”
Lin Aiyun’s eyes flickered—she’d already figured out how to handle that. But now wasn’t the time to bring it up. Instead, she said cheerfully: “Got it. Auntie, you haven’t had breakfast yet, have you? Let’s eat together.”
“No need—” Zhang Wenyue didn’t get to finish before Xiao Cheng cut in.
“Auntie Wang, bring another set of bowls and chopsticks.”
Breakfast had already been laid out on the table and was now cooled to just the right temperature—warm enough to eat without burning. Auntie Wang always made generous portions, so even with an extra person, there was plenty to go around.
“Coming right up.” Auntie Wang, quick on the uptake, brought out a fresh set of bowls and chopsticks from the kitchen, not giving Zhang Wenyue another chance to refuse.
“Auntie, stay and eat with us. I’ll head back with you later—I need to pick up my parents the day after tomorrow anyway.” Lin Aiyun gave a slight tug, and Xiao Cheng let go of her hand. She then happily linked arms with Zhang Wenyue, her girlish affection on full display.
Zhang Wenyue had always been weak to her younger relatives’ cajoling and coaxing. Hearing Lin Aiyun put it that way, she found no reason to refuse and nodded. The two of them moved toward the dining table.
Watching this, Xiao Cheng couldn’t help but smile. He made a mental note: someday, he wanted to coax her into being just as playful and lively with him.
At the table, Zhang Wenyue kept up a calm exterior while quietly observing everything. They said the little details of daily life revealed the most about a couple’s relationship—and that was certainly true.
First, knowing Lin Aiyun couldn’t finish a whole corn cob, Xiao Cheng broke it in half, putting one piece in his own bowl and the other in hers.
Then, when the meat porridge was still too hot, he stirred it with a spoon until it cooled, then set it beside her.
And when they needed something, they’d reach for it and the other would push the dish toward them without a word—all so natural, so seamless. It couldn’t be faked.
Of course, they didn’t forget to take care of her either—attentive and thoughtful in every way. Lin Aiyun even went to the kitchen to pour her a fresh glass of water and peeled a boiled egg for her.
Zhang Wenyue felt a warmth spread through her heart. Despite Xiao Cheng’s imposing demeanor, he was willing to do these little things for Aiyun—it showed he knew how to care for her.
After the meal, Lin Aiyun took Zhang Wenyue up to her room. Noting how close their rooms were, Zhang Wenyue couldn’t help frowning—but once inside, seeing no trace of a man’s presence, she relaxed.
“I usually sleep here. Have a seat, Auntie—I’ll just pack a couple of things, then we’ll go.” Lin Aiyun settled Zhang Wenyue at the foot of the bed and went to the wardrobe to pick out clothes.
Zhang Wenyue’s eyes followed her movements. When she caught a glimpse of the wardrobe full of beautiful clothes, her gaze flickered. It seemed that during this time, to keep her relationship with Xiao Cheng under wraps, Lin Aiyun had been wearing only her old clothes when visiting home.
Zhang Wenyue had an eye for beauty and knew the market. Though Lin Aiyun’s calligraphy teaching salary was good, these clothes clearly weren’t cheap. Most of her earnings went toward monthly gifts for their family and sending money back to her parents—what was left wouldn’t have covered a wardrobe like this.
And look at those bottles and jars on the vanity, with foreign lettering she’d never seen before—they must have been quite a find.
Spending on his partner—Xiao Cheng was generous enough.
Suddenly, Zhang Wenyue’s attention was caught by something by the window. She rose and walked over for a closer look. Noticing the needles and thread still in it, and an unfinished section in the lower right corner, she turned and asked: “Aiyun, did you embroider this?”
Hearing the question, Lin Aiyun turned back. Seeing what Zhang Wenyue was pointing at, she hesitated for a moment. But then she realized this was the perfect opportunity to show her family her embroidery skills. A smile spread across her face as she nodded, a little shyly: “Just a hobby, really.”
“This is no hobby.” Zhang Wenyue murmured, staring at the exquisite embroidery. Anyone who’d ever tried their hand at embroidery knew how hard it was just to stitch a flower, let alone something as complex as this folding screen.
Celestial maidens holding peaches stood scattered throughout a garden party. Though the surrounding immortals were simplified, their forms were recognizable. Every detail was delicate and fine—a lively, charming birthday tribute scene.
For an ordinary person to reach this level was nothing short of extraordinary.
“This is gorgeous.” Zhang Wenyue felt like she couldn’t look enough—left, right, back again. Finally, her eyes sparkled as she turned to Lin Aiyun. Her niece kept surprising her.
“With work this good, you could sell it and make money.”
Lin Aiyun smiled: “Actually, this is already meant to be sold.”
“Really?” Zhang Wenyue pressed for details. When she heard how much it could fetch, she drew in a sharp breath—but it made perfect sense.
“How come we never knew you had this talent?” Zhang Wenyue sighed, deeply impressed.
Lin Aiyun let out a dry laugh. Embroidery was painstaking work, honed over years of practice—a skill she’d accumulated in her previous life.
At seventeen, the old Lin Aiyun couldn’t have done this—at most, she could manage some simple flower patterns.
This birthday screen had come through Auntie Hui’s connections. A wealthy merchant in the county, trying to curry favor with a military officer in the provincial capital, had been looking for a way in. By chance, he learned that the officer’s wife loved antiquarian things, especially embroidery. He’d sent people scouting for embroiderers.
Through a chain of connections, it reached Liu Hui, who had previously sold Lin Aiyun’s “Wutong Flower” embroidery.
Liu Hui had come to the villa looking for Lin Aiyun, but she’d been away in Changzhu Village at the time. The matter was delayed, but luckily the buyer wasn’t in a rush and was willing to wait—otherwise, they’d have missed this lucrative opportunity.
After returning from Changzhu Village, Lin Aiyun had first visited her aunt’s family with gifts, then gone to the Liu household, where she’d run into Liu Hui. She’d explained the situation, and Lin Aiyun, trusting that Auntie Hui wouldn’t deceive her, had agreed.
The next day, the buyer had sent a deposit and a pattern for her to follow.
Thinking of the hefty sum in her hands, Lin Aiyun felt deeply grateful to Liu Hui, a warmth spreading through her heart—and her resolve only strengthened.
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