Steam rose in the morning sun.
Amid the bustling crowd, Song Jin had already sold two full pots of steamed buns. It wasn’t until the sun climbed high that she finally managed to catch her breath.
While she had been busy earlier, Song Jin hadn’t noticed, but now that she had a moment to herself, a hint of nervousness began to stir in her heart.
That Master Fan was like a firecracker that could go off beside her ear at any moment, utterly vexing.
Perhaps she shouldn’t set up her stall for the next couple of days?
Song Jin’s face remained stern as she pondered quietly, but her deft hands never stopped moving. In no time, she had shaped several petal-like pastries.
The pastries were delicate, neatly arranged on small bamboo steamers, waiting for the last one to be finished before being placed in the oven to bake.
Song Jin’s fingers were slender and fair, with a faint pink hue at the tips.
Her fingertips pressed gently but firmly into the pastries. However, just as she was shaping the final petal, a pair of greasy, large hands suddenly reached out and grabbed her!
Startled, Song Jin instinctively pulled her hand back, causing the pastry dough in her grasp to fall onto the counter.
The delicate little flower was instantly ruined.
Song Jin had been running her stall here for some time now.
In the past, there had been some small-time troublemakers who leered at her with ill intentions, but this was the first time anyone had dared to lay hands on her!
Song Jin was thoroughly frightened. She looked down at the hand gripping her.
The palm was broad, with no scars or calluses—clearly well-maintained.
However, the hand bore a few wrinkles, suggesting it belonged to someone older.
It was Master Fan!
That was Song Jin’s first thought.
Master Fan was only in his fifties, but his health had deteriorated in recent years, making him appear even older.
“Little Jin’er, your hands are so fair and tender. How can you bear to make pastries in this freezing cold?”
Even though Song Jin had already pulled away, Master Fan still tried to grab her with his greasy hands.
Song Jin frowned and retreated further. “Master Fan, please show some respect.”
“Respect?” Master Fan clearly had no intention of letting her off this time. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you while I was away? I waited impatiently for that old hag’s mourning period to end and rushed back on horseback to marry you. It’s been half a year, and you still haven’t come to your senses?”
“But it doesn’t matter if you haven’t. Once you’re in my household, you can take your time to think it over!”
Song Jin’s face was taut, with not a trace of the usual smile on her cheeks.
She spoke slowly and deliberately, “Master Fan, please don’t say such things. My husband would be displeased, and I would take great offense.”
“Husband?” Master Fan was taken aback. “What husband?”
He paused for a moment, and his previously teasing tone turned icy. “You’re married?”
Song Jin nodded, taking another step back. “Yes.”
Master Fan’s eyes turned cold. He withdrew his hand, his right hand twisting the ring on his left thumb.
This little girl was already married?
She dared to marry someone while he was away from Chongzhou? Who had the audacity?!
Most people in the city knew of his intention to take Song Jin as his new wife. No one would dare to set their sights on her, which was why he had left with peace of mind.
Now, who was this fool who dared to marry Song Jin?
Master Fan fell silent. He narrowed his eyes, scanning Song Jin from head to toe, lingering particularly on her waist.
This little girl did seem to carry the charm of a young married woman.
Since she was already married, she could no longer become his new wife.
But as a concubine…
A married young woman should have a different charm.
"Oh? You're married." Master Fan's lips curled into an elusive smile. He lifted his robe and sat on the chair, his hand that had just grabbed Song Jin now reaching for those soft, white steamed buns.
In no time, he had squeezed every bun.
Song Jin really wanted to rush forward and break that greasy hand.
But she couldn't.
Song Jin lowered her eyes, her brows furrowing into a frown.
That would land her in jail, and she still had a handsome husband waiting for her at home.
It wasn't worth it.
"Then tell me, what's your husband's name, where does he live? Perhaps I even know him."
Master Fan asked sinisterly.
Song Jin didn't want to answer, but it seemed if she didn't speak today, she wouldn't be able to leave.
She replied vaguely: "My husband is from Jingdu. It was a marriage arranged by my parents and brothers. I've been waiting for him, and he came recently, so we married."
Song Jin tried to resolve this properly: "Master Fan, I'm already married and cannot become your new wife. Please find someone else."
"Jingdu?" Master Fan sneered: "I didn't expect you to really have a lover in Jingdu."
After saying this, he stood up and walked out, but halfway, he suddenly turned back and spoke ambiguously to Song Jin: "If so, then you should enjoy a few good days with your husband."
The words were sinister, clearly not a good sign.
Song Jin didn't respond to Master Fan's words. Seeing the buns he had squeezed, she tried to be polite: "Master Fan, I can't sell these buns anymore. The total is fifty-six coins."
"You little girl, this temperament is really delightful!"
Master Fan wasn't angry, but he didn't pay either.
He walked back and stood before the stall, suddenly raising his hand.
The small stall was instantly overturned. Flour from the board scattered everywhere, unfinished pastries smashed to the ground, and soft buns scattered all over!
Song Jin clenched her fists, glaring fiercely at Master Fan.
Master Fan loved Song Jin's expression. He smiled greasily, his face full of wrinkles.
"No problem, what I smashed I'll pay for. Have your husband come to Fan Residence to collect the money."
After saying this, Master Fan stepped on the soft buns, turned, and boarded the Soft Sedan Chair. Before boarding, he whispered: "Check if what Song Jin said is true."
The attendant replied: "Yes."
There weren't many people passing by. Some wanted to stop and watch, but seeing it was Master Fan, they quickly lowered their heads and walked away.
Long after Master Fan left, Song Jin still stood alone, fists clenched, before the stall.
She actually wanted to cry a bit and was also worried.
Master Fan seemed not to intend to let her go.
Song Jin pursed her lips and stood there for a while, finally sniffing, tidying up the messy stall, going to Xiucui Pavilion to report, then turning home.
Hearing Song Jin push the door and return home, Xie Qiao's hand paused slightly as he was copying a book.
She returned earlier than usual today.
Her movements were always gentle, as if afraid to disturb him. If he hadn't been alert since childhood, he likely wouldn't have heard the door opening outside.
Soon, a light knocking sound came.
Xie Qiao instinctively looked up.
The knocking seemed to remind him someone was entering, so after three knocks, Song Jin pushed the door herself.
Looking up, she happened to meet Xie Qiao's gaze.
The moment their eyes locked, Song Jin instinctively held her breath.
She crept in quietly, like a little cat: "Husband, are you copying texts?"
Xie Qiao's gaze returned to the book as he replied indifferently, "Mm."
"Then I won't disturb you." Without saying more, Song Jin went to the side, picked up her quilt, turned, and left the room.
She left without even making a sound when closing the door.
Throughout, she did not glance at Xie Qiao once.
Yet the moment the door closed, Xie Qiao—who should have been intently copying texts—looked up.
He glanced at the bedding, now half empty, then at the door that had just been shut.
She had always smiled when seeing him before, but not today. Her little face was tense, and the dimples by her cheeks were absent.
Where was she going with her quilt?
Information about Song Jin's marriage was not hard to come by. Even before Song Jin returned home, news of her had already been delivered to the Fan Residence.
Master Fan sat in his Taishi Chair, spinning the thumb ring on his hand. "You're saying her husband is a half-dead invalid who can only lie at home now, unable to go out?"
The steward thought for a moment. "It should be due to injuries from bandits, not yet healed. I heard the wounds are quite severe."
"That makes it simple," Master Fan waved a hand dismissively. "Being half-dead is suffering anyway. In that case, send two men to see him off."
Having followed Master Fan for many years, the steward naturally understood his meaning.
The steward nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes."
Song Jin was somewhat unhappy today; she had not had a good day.
Her stall had been smashed by Master Fan. Not only had she failed to receive compensation, but she also couldn't deliver the pastries to Xiucui Pavilion.
Master Fan had said her husband should go to the Fan Residence to collect the silver, but that was impossible.
Leaving aside that her husband disliked going out, she didn't need to think twice to know that once someone entered the Fan Residence, they might never return.
She absolutely could not let her husband step into that den of wolves!
If the stall was smashed, so be it. She could spend some money to repair it, or at worst, find other work.
But if her husband were gone, where could she ever find someone who suited her so perfectly?
Hiding under her quilt, Song Jin let her tears and sniffles flow together.
She had wanted to cry since morning.
She had held back for a long time, only allowing herself to cry freely once she was back home in her own bed.
Home was still the best! Even if she cried herself silly, no one would mind.
It wasn't that she wasn't strong—it was just that she truly wasn't happy today, overwhelmed by both grievance and worry.
Her nose and eyes stung with tears; outside, she had struggled hard to keep them from falling.
But it was alright.
A good cry would make it better.
Even as Song Jin cried freely, her sounds did not reach Xie Qiao's ears.
Only when the sun gradually set and darkness spread did Xie Qiao set down his brush.
He rose from the square table, first stretching his nearly stiff body slightly, then turned to light a candle.
As the gentle candle flame gradually brightened the darkness, he suddenly noticed the bed.
Originally, two quilts had lain side by side there, but now only one remained.
Where had Song Jin gone with her quilt?
He sat back down at the square table, raising a hand to rub his brow.
He hadn't rested well these past two days. While Song Jin slept on the bed, he sat upright at the table. Even when she left during the day, he only dozed lightly.
He had no habit of sleeping during the day.
His wounds were not fully healed to begin with, and with the poor rest these past few days, his body felt even more exhausted.
This could not continue any longer.
Xie Qiao pressed his brow and decided to go speak with Song Jin soon, clarifying that from now on they would interact as siblings.
That way, even if they slept in the same room, it wouldn’t be improper.
Tomorrow he could set up a small bed in the room for himself to sleep on.
Thinking this, Xie Qiao rose and pushed open the door to go out, but unexpectedly Fu Cang, who should have been hidden in the shadows, suddenly appeared.
Fu Cang was not careless; his appearance must mean something had happened.
Xie Qiao asked, “What happened?”
Fu Cang whispered, “Young master, there was an assassination attempt just now, which I have already dealt with.”
Xie Qiao instantly narrowed his brows: “Was it someone from the capital?”
Fu Cang shook his head: “No. I investigated a bit, and this matter likely relates to Miss Song.”
Xie Qiao was clearly surprised: “Song Jin? Who wants to kill her?”
“Not kill her, but kill you.”
Fu Cang reported everything he had discovered to Xie Qiao, but Xie Qiao’s frown deepened further.
Xie Qiao had long guessed that Song Jin’s appearance and temperament would attract many suitors, and she wouldn’t lack marriage prospects, but he hadn’t expected she was also being targeted by such vile individuals.
Indeed, she was a lone girl here with no one to protect her, naturally very vulnerable, especially since the person involved was a local gentry official.
Song Jin was now under his protection, yet those people dared to target someone from the Xie Family!
Moreover, even if Song Jin were just an ordinary orphaned girl, she shouldn’t be bullied so blatantly, disregarding the law.
Fu Cang watched his young master remain silent. Xie Qiao’s expression was unchanged, but Fu Cang knew that his young master was truly furious.
“Young master, regarding the Fan family?”
Xie Qiao’s voice was steady, allowing no dissent, and he issued a cold command: “Handle the Fan family.”
Fu Cang said, “Yes.”
After receiving the order, Fu Cang vanished in a few leaps.
Xie Qiao walked to the large room’s entrance, faintly hearing suppressed crying inside.
Xie Qiao’s eyes darkened: So it was because she was bullied outside today that she returned so early.
The crying inside was faint. Xie Qiao originally disliked women’s crying intensely, but now hearing that sound, he felt no irritation, only an inexplicable tightness in his chest, wanting to tear apart whoever had upset her.
He closed his eyes briefly, calming his thoughts, and when he opened them again, his emotions seemed as usual.
He raised his hand and pushed open the closed door.
A gust of cold wind instantly rushed in.
He stood at the doorway, listening to the sorrowful crying.
Song Jin, hiding under the covers crying self-absorbedly, didn’t know someone had entered. She was even crying so hard she felt tired and was drowsy.
Xie Qiao closed the door, stopping the wind, but gusts still blew in through cracks in the collapsed wall, making the room’s temperature no different from outside.
He walked to the center of the room, surveying the surroundings.
The simple room had its doors and windows shut, making it somewhat dim even during daytime, especially now as sunset approached.
On the wide, plain bed curled a small lump; the quilt resembled a small hill, with Song Jin hidden inside.
She trembled intermittently, causing the quilt to move as well.
The emotions he had just struggled to suppress surged up again. He walked forward, standing before that lump of bedding, and called, “Song Jin.”
The person inside the quilt didn’t respond, but the crying gradually quieted.
Xie Qiao called again: “A Jin, go back to sleep.”