Ji Ying sat in the front hall, sipping tea and nibbling on pastries.
The atmosphere inside was far warmer than during their initial meeting. Old Master Fu, with his straightforward humor, was a legend among the older generation. In terms of ability and shrewdness alone, both Ji Tianze and Yu Wanqing held him in high regard.
By contrast, Fu Jingshen spoke little, though it wasn’t that he lacked eloquence. Whenever a topic was suddenly thrown his way, he always seemed able to respond with ease.
Ji Ying enjoyed listening to their conversation. At the amusing parts, her eyes curved into a smile.
When Old Master Fu recounted embarrassing stories from his youth in the army, Ji Ying covered her lips to stifle a laugh. Turning her head, her gaze accidentally collided with a pair of jet-black eyes. Despite his cold and aloof exterior, the man possessed eyes that brimmed with emotion—thin lids, slightly upturned corners, and thick, long lashes.
Being looked at by such eyes, Ji Ying thought, made it hard not to lose focus.
As their gazes met, a ripple of amusement suddenly stirred in his eyes. Ji Ying froze, watching as his long fingers tapped lightly at his cheek. Confused, she instinctively touched her own cheek—and brushed away a crumb from the red bean pastry she had just eaten. Her mind went blank for a second. Then heat rushed belatedly to her ears, spreading across her cheeks. She quickly pulled several tissues, shielding her face so that only her watery eyes peeked out, glaring at Fu Jingshen.
The man, leisurely sipping his tea, remained unmoved by her silent accusation. His lips even curved faintly.
Ji Ying turned her head away, puffing her cheeks as she wiped her face more firmly.
“Yingying.”
“Yingying?”
It was only when Yu Wanqing called her name a second time that Ji Ying snapped back. “Ah?”
“Your Grandpa Fu was asking you a question.”
Ji Ying looked around blankly, seeing only Old Master Fu’s kindly smiling face—and her father and elder brother’s strange expressions.
Grandpa Fu asked, “Yingying, do you like it?”
Like what?
Ji Ying parted her lips, stammering, “I like it.” Whatever it was, saying she liked it couldn’t be wrong.
Unexpectedly, Grandpa Fu burst into hearty laughter. “Good, if you like it, then that’s settled! I’ll have them plant a whole row of cherry blossom trees at Jingshen’s place.”
Ji Ying: “What?”
Grandfather Ji smiled at his granddaughter, explaining, “Grandpa Fu just asked if you liked cherry blossom trees. Since you do, he’ll plant more at the Fu residence.”
Ji Ying’s lashes trembled. Was this something she could decide? Suddenly realizing what it implied, her slender fingers twisted together.
And Grandpa Fu’s next words confirmed her suspicion: “Yingying, from now on, treat the Fu household as your own home. Don’t be reserved.”
Ji Ying’s fingertips curled. She couldn’t nod, couldn’t shake her head. Unsure where to look, she instinctively turned toward Fu Jingshen—the other person involved.
He gently set down his teacup. His cool brows and eyes softened with warmth as they fell upon her. “Or,” he said slowly, “just think of me as your third brother for now.”
His tone wasn’t forceful, yet it inexplicably eased Ji Ying’s unease. Her heart skipped a beat.
Ji Ying lifted her lashes, but before she could speak, Ji Chen—silent until now—suddenly said: “If I’m not mistaken, President Fu is older than me. So why should Yingying call you Third Brother?”
Fu Jingshen calmly took a sip of tea. “If Yingying is willing, she may call me something else as well.”
Ji Chen’s smile was cold beneath its surface. “President Fu has quite the gift of words.”
Their exchange carried a faint spark of gunpowder. Fortunately, a servant arrived just then to ask if the banquet should begin, breaking the strange atmosphere.
As Ji Tianze rose, he glanced at his son, who had lost his composure. Even though he himself had reservations about this marriage, the Ji and Fu families had been close for generations. At the very least, emotions should not be worn on the face.
Ji Chen walked to the dining table with no expression.
Today’s meal was Ji Ying’s birthday banquet. At the center of the table sat a three-tiered cake, surrounded by an array of exquisite dishes, including vegetables and fruits grown personally by Grandfather Ji.
The seating arrangement was carefully considered. Since it was Ji Ying’s birthday, the two grandfathers placed her in the middle, with the rest seated according to seniority.
And so, when Ji Ying lifted her eyes, she found Fu Jingshen seated directly across from her. Simply by sitting there, he was impossible to ignore—an aura that only those in power possessed.
Ji Ying lowered her gaze to the porcelain bowl before her, her thoughts drifting. A man like this, bound to her by an engagement, surely it was out of necessity.
The meal itself was harmonious. Afterward, the servants cleared the dishes, leaving only the large cake on the table. Ji Ying sat before it, her eyes sparkling as she clasped her hands together to make a wish under everyone’s gaze.
“What wish did my little girl make?” Ji Tianze asked with a smile, watching his daughter’s profile.
Ji Ying’s eyes turned playfully. “Secret.”
Ji Tianze tapped the back of her head, sighing helplessly. “Look at that—now even I’m kept in the dark.”
“Won’t you tell your father? What if I can help make it come true?”
Ji Ying tilted her head, refusing to say. “Secret.”
Ji Tianze sighed in mock regret.
After the cake was cut, Ji Ying was happily focused on eating. But once she finished serving, she realized the elders had all disappeared. Only Ji Chen remained at the table—and across from her, Fu Jingshen. Two men, one warm and gentle, the other cold and aloof, each sat watching her.
“Where did Grandpa and the others go?” Ji Ying asked.
Ji Chen replied, “To discuss matters.” As for what matters, everyone present knew without needing to say.
“Oh…” Ji Ying lowered her lashes, then pointed to the cake. “Do you two want some?”
“Eat.”
The two men answered in unison.
After speaking, Fu Jingshen glanced at Ji Chen, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. In this world, there always seemed to be people who didn’t know their place.
Ji Chen sneered, sitting with composed ease, showing no intention of leaving. But— The heavens rarely grant what one wishes. Just as Ji Ying placed a slice of cake before him, his phone rang at the worst possible moment.
Ji Chen glanced at the caller, his expression pausing briefly before he rose to answer. Before connecting, he cast Fu Jingshen a cool look.
Another project in Shencheng. That project had been plagued with problems for two years. He didn’t believe Fu Jingshen’s hand wasn’t behind it.
Fu Jingshen appeared oblivious, his fingers leisurely lifting a fork. His tone was faint: “President Ji truly is a busy man.”
Ji Chen spoke a few brief words into the phone before hanging up. He turned apologetically to Ji Ying. “There’s an issue at the company. I have to go. Later, tell Grandpa and the others for me. I’ll send the driver to pick you up afterward.”
Ji Ying quickly nodded. “Alright, Big Brother, go handle your work.”
Before leaving, Ji Chen shot Fu Jingshen a warning look. The latter lowered his eyes, lips curving almost imperceptibly.
Of course, Ji Ying saw none of this. She loved desserts most of all. Unfortunately, as a child, she had gotten cavities from sneaking sugar, so her mother had strictly controlled her intake ever since. Rarely did she have no one watching over her. So now, most of her attention was fixed on the towering cake.
Ji Ying lifted a piece, took a small bite, then another larger one. The sweetness melted across her tongue, and joy curved her eyes into crescents.
“Do you like sweets?” A clear, cool male voice suddenly sounded beside her.
Ji Ying lifted her lashes, meeting his gaze. The vast hall was empty save for a servant cleaning in the distance, leaving only the two of them.
Somehow, she felt the man looked at her as though she were a greedy little cat. Her lips pressed together. She felt the need to explain. Raising one slender finger, she said: “I only eat a little.”
Fu Jingshen seemed to stifle a laugh, watching her as he replied: “My pastry chef once worked at Jingyun Pavilion.”
Jingyun Pavilion?! Ji Ying’s eyes widened. It had once been the most famous old pastry shop in Beijing. Though now commercialized, it had lost the authentic taste of its beginnings. The master chefs who left Jingyun Pavilion were priceless treasures—rarely available. Ji Ying hadn’t tasted that flavor in years.
Fu Jingshen sipped his tea. “If Miss Ji would like to try…” His long fingers lit up his phone screen and slid it toward her. “Perhaps we could exchange contact information.”
Who could refuse Jingyun Pavilion? No one.
Ji Ying bit her lip in hesitation. A second later, her pale wrist slipped behind her, retrieving her phone from her small bag. Leaning closer, under the man’s steady gaze, she quickly added him on WeChat.
“Thank you…” Ji Ying paused, lifting her eyes slightly, her tone rising uncertainly at the end, “Third Brother?”
Fu Jingshen’s long fingers tapped lightly on the WeChat request from the little qipao avatar, pressing *accept*. His gaze slowly swept across the girl’s delicate face. It seemed that only when Jingyun Pavilion was mentioned did the young lady finally call him *Third Brother*. Looking at her, he said softly: “There’s no need to thank me.”
Ji Ying pressed her lips together and lowered her head, continuing to eat her cake. The spring afternoon was unusually quiet, broken only by the wind rustling through the branches outside.
“But yesterday’s birthday blessing…” Ji Ying recalled the grand, dazzling birthday message displayed at Fu headquarters. Her clear eyes looked at him sincerely: “I still want to thank Third Brother.”
It was as if the sweetness of the cake had spread into the air.
Her eyes were too pure, burning with a brightness that stung. Fu Jingshen’s Adam’s apple moved suddenly, and he asked in a low voice:
“What if this day comes every year?”
“Would you still thank me every year?”
Ji Ying’s heart skipped a beat. She even forgot to swallow the cake in her mouth. Was that what he meant? Perhaps, regarding this paper engagement, Fu Jingshen was not forced into it after all. The thought that had stirred last night now seemed clearer than ever.
Ji Ying lowered her long, curled lashes, pondering for a few seconds, just about to speak, when a sound came from the direction of the tea room. The subtle atmosphere in the air seemed to shatter instantly.
Old Master Fu stepped out first. Seeing the two of them sitting together in the hall, he almost wanted to retreat. Unfortunately, Ji Tianze followed closely behind, leaving the elder to sigh inwardly that his timing was poor.
That afternoon, the two grandfathers went to the fish pond to fish. Yu Wanqing accompanied the maid to the orchard on the back hill, intending to pick fresh fruits to bring home.
Ji Tianze, however, invited Fu Jingshen to play a game of Go.
Left with nothing to do, Ji Ying moved a chair beside her father, resting her chin in her hand as she watched the board. She knew her father excelled at Go. Even her eldest brother struggled to win more than a few points against him. As for herself, even with her father deliberately going easy, she could barely manage three points.
Ji Ying watched closely. Today’s match, every move her father made was a killing strike—sharp and fierce.
Fu Jingshen, holding the white stones, was far more restrained compared to her father’s aggression. For nearly an hour, they battled until Ji Ying noticed her father’s expression was no longer relaxed as it had been at the start.
After an hour and forty-five minutes, the game of Go finally ended. Fu Jingshen gently set down his stone, saying calmly: “It is my lack of skill.”
Ji Tianze looked at him deeply, then suddenly smiled. “Jingshen, you’re being modest.”
Their conversation was about to continue when a creak sounded from the lounge chair beside them. Both men turned their gaze—only to see the young girl who had been resting her chin in her hand watching the game now nestled back into the chair, breathing evenly in sleep. The pink qipao set off her fair skin and delicate features. In that moment, she resembled the most precious painting of a beauty in spring slumber.
Ji Tianze reached for a blanket from the sofa and gently draped it over Ji Ying. He then glanced toward Fu Jingshen. The latter gave a light cough, discreetly shifting his gaze away as he lifted his teacup to moisten his throat.
“Old Master Fu’s intentions have already been conveyed,” Ji Tianze said as he sat back down, pouring himself tea and blowing away the steam. “As a parent, I understand both the worry and the encouragement.”
Fu Jingshen straightened, listening attentively.
“But,” Ji Tianze suddenly fixed his eyes on him, “Yingying is the apple of our eye. She is still young. In my heart, I want to keep her with us for a few more years.”
“Considering your situation, I feel guilty for my selfishness.” He paused, carefully observing the young man’s expression. “That is the situation. If you cannot accept it, then this engagement…”
Fu Jingshen’s fingers, which had been rubbing at the base of his thumb, suddenly stilled. Without hesitation, he said: “I accept.”