Ji Tianze hadn’t expected him to be so straightforward. His expression faltered for a moment, leaving him speechless.
Fu Jingshen’s suspicions were confirmed. He had never imagined it would be so easy to marry Ji Ying.
Ji Tianze’s words sounded reasonable enough. But if he truly backed down, then in the future he wouldn’t even be able to step through the Ji family’s door.
Soon, Ji Tianze adjusted his expression and said politely: “In that case, it would make our family seem unreasonable.”
Fu Jingshen lowered his head and tidied the Go board. “I am six years older than Ji Ying. Waiting a few more years would not be inappropriate.”
Flawless. Ji Tianze narrowed his eyes, then laughed twice. Vaguely, he added: “Of course, I cannot make decisions for Yingying. Ultimately, it depends on her wishes.”
Fu Jingshen picked up the last stone with his long fingers, dropped it into the basket, and suddenly smiled. “Then it must be left to her to decide.”
When Ji Ying woke from her nap, she opened her eyes to see Yu Wanqing standing beside her, bending down to pinch her cheek. “How could you fall asleep here?”
She rubbed her eyes and sat up, realizing the sun had already sunk halfway down the horizon. The two men who had been playing Go before her nap were nowhere to be seen.
“Your father went to accompany your grandfather,” Yu Wanqing explained. “As for Jingshen, he had company matters to attend to, so he left early with your Grandpa Fu.”
“…Oh.” Ji Ying’s voice was drowsy as she lifted the blanket from her body, her pale feet dangling in the air, swinging slightly. That feeling of waking to find everything changed was unpleasant. Resting her chin in her hand, she murmured: “How did I sleep so long?”
“Yes, how did you sleep so long?” Yu Wanqing chuckled, amused by her daughter’s dazed little face. She rose to help comb Ji Ying’s silky black hair.
Ji Ying hadn’t styled it today; her long hair flowed like satin down her back, irresistible to Yu Wanqing’s touch.
It was a rare half-day of leisure. As the sun set, the driver sent by Ji Chen arrived. After bidding farewell to her grandfather, Ji Ying returned home with her parents.
That night.
On the sofa, Ji Tianze picked up a fine Huizhou inkstone from the table. Thinking of something, he remarked casually: “I underestimated Third Fu.”
Yu Wanqing lowered her gaze to the gifts sent by the Fu family that day. Each had been carefully chosen. Even the seemingly ordinary inkstone was a collector’s edition from a famous master, auctioned last year for 880,000 yuan.
At his words, she looked up suddenly. “What do you mean?”
Ji Tianze set down the inkstone. “This afternoon, I played a game of Go with Fu Jingshen.”
“He let me win the game.”
Of course, Fu Jingshen had done it without showing a trace. But Ji Tianze was far too shrewd not to notice, though at the time he chose not to expose it.
Yu Wanqing raised her brows. She knew well her husband’s mastery of Go—few could surpass him. After a moment’s thought, she said: “As the younger generation, letting you win is a sign of respect.”
If they had to choose a son-in-law, Fu Jingshen was outstanding in ability, led a clean private life, and, among peers of noble families, none could compare. For now, Yu Wanqing was reasonably satisfied with him.
“But this man’s thoughts run deep,” Ji Tianze said, recalling their afternoon conversation. His tone was cool. “I’m not certain why he insists on marrying Yingying.”
“Yingying doesn’t just need an excellent husband—she needs a man who truly loves her.”
Just as his words fell, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the villa. Ji Chen returned under the night sky, spotting his parents on the sofa. “Dad, Mom.”
Since Ji Chen’s return, Ji Tianze hadn’t had a proper talk with him. He gestured to the seat opposite. “Come sit.”
Ji Chen sat down, not even touching his tea before speaking first: “Is this about Yingying?”
Yu Wanqing shot him a glance. “Wrong. First, talk about yourself.”
Ji Chen was taken aback. “Me?”
“When are you going to bring me a daughter-in-law?”
Ji Chen paused, covering his lips with a light cough. “Mom, can we not talk about that right now?”
Before Yu Wanqing could reply, he quickly shifted the topic. “I have something to say. Fu Jingshen wants to marry Yingying. I don’t agree.”
Yu Wanqing: “You don’t agree either?”
*Either?* Ji Chen looked at his father, who raised his brows slightly and met his gaze.
Ji Chen took a sip of tea, then repeated his earlier conversation with Yan Hang.
Facing his parents’ suddenly darkened expressions, Ji Chen sneered: “He says one thing to your face and another behind your back. Clearly, he has ulterior motives. If Yingying marries him, she’ll likely suffer.”
Hearing this, Ji Tianze furrowed his brows and nodded. “I understand. I’ll delay matters with Old Master Fu for now.”
“This must not be mentioned to Yingying.”
Late at night, the wind grew fierce. A spring rain quietly arrived.
After handling urgent company affairs, the night was already deep.
Fu Jingshen pressed his long fingers against his tired brow, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window. Raindrops traced paths down the glass. From dozens of stories up, he looked across at the office building opposite, still ablaze with lights. The streets below bustled with endless traffic—like machines that never knew fatigue.
The phone on the desk suddenly lit up. Glancing at the caller, it turned out to be Old Master Fu.
Not knowing why the elder was calling at this hour, Fu Jingshen pressed *accept*. “Grandpa.”
“Just now Tianze called me,” the old man’s booming voice came through. “For now, you’re out of luck!”
Fu Jingshen’s expression remained calm. “Reason?”
“How should I know? Ask yourself if you said something you shouldn’t have!” On the other end, Old Master Fu sounded like a sulking child. “I don’t care. I’m giving you one year to bring Yingying home as your wife. If you can’t, then don’t bother coming back!”
Fu Jingshen was silent for a few seconds. “Grandpa, calm down first.”
“How can I calm down when I might lose such a granddaughter-in-law?!” The old man exhaled heavily. “All the things I taught you—where have you used them?”
Fu Jingshen recalled the nine-character maxim his grandfather had drilled into him, insisting he memorize it word for word: Steady, courteous, humble, and shameless.
The first three applied to the Ji family. The last was meant only for Ji Ying. But how could he possibly be shameless toward a young girl?
Silence hung on the line.
Old Master Fu sensed he would have to step in himself. Shaking his head, he sighed and offered his final advice: “Since the Ji family path is blocked for now, go after Ji Ying directly. If she likes you, do you still fear being shut out of their house?”
Fu Jingshen: “Understood.”
Ending the call, Fu Jingshen tapped his phone screen, switching to WeChat. He scrolled to Ji Ying’s profile and opened her Moments.
Refreshing the page revealed a new post. He stared at it for a while, then suddenly chuckled.
Sakura: [May this day come every year]
Attached is a photo of the girl clasping her hands in front of the three-tier cherry cake as she makes her birthday wish.
Fu Jingshen’s fingertip moved lightly, pressing *like* at the corner.
After several spring rains, the temperature had clearly warmed.
Ji Ying no longer needed to wear a shawl when going out. She loved the season between spring and summer—not too hot, and perfect for wearing a different qipao each day.
In the Ji family’s backyard, the cherry blossoms had bloomed once more, their petals drifting down to enrich the soil.
In her leisure, Ji Ying sat on the swing beneath the tree, flipping through the April accounts of Yulinling. This batch of new tea was of average quality, and compared to last year, early April’s revenue had indeed declined.
From her phone, a WeChat voice message from Chen Yu played: “Manager, a lot of old customers are saying the new tea doesn’t taste as good as before. What should we do?”
Since her illness, Ji Ying hadn’t set foot in Yulinling for nearly half a month. The teahouse had originally been opened by her teacher, Song Yun, as a pastime. After Ji Ying entered university, Song Yun became busy traveling with her husband for archaeological research, and casually handed the teahouse over to Ji Ying to manage.
At six years old, Ji Ying had joined the Zhelu Academy to study calligraphy and painting, introduced by her grandfather to study under Song Yun. Song Yun was renowned for her talent, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. By comparison, Ji Ying felt she had barely learned half of her master’s abilities.
Closing the account book, Ji Ying hugged the swing chains, lowering her head in distress. She couldn’t let the teahouse entrusted to her by her teacher fail in her hands.
She picked up her phone and replied to Chen Yu’s message: [I’ll come to the shop right away.]
After sending the message, Ji Ying stepped down from the swing, tugging lightly at the hem of her teal qipao as she tiptoed from the backyard into the living room. Peeking out from behind the wall, her eyes lit up when she saw only her father sitting on the sofa watching the news.
“Father.” Ji Ying moved cheerfully to Ji Tianze’s side. Ever since Ji Chen had returned, Ji Tianze had handed over most of the work to him, freeing up weekends to spend with his wife and daughter.
Ji Ying hooked her arm through her father’s. “Where’s Mom?”
“Upstairs putting on makeup,” Ji Tianze replied helplessly. “She’s going out shopping later.”
Ji Ying nodded, her eyes shifting playfully. “Oh.”
She quickly stood, picked up her bag from the rack, and walked toward the door. “Then, Father, I’m going to Yulinling for a bit. Please tell Mom for me.”
Ji Tianze: “…?”
He blinked for a few seconds before catching the point. “You want me to tell your mother?”
Standing at the door, Ji Ying looked at him pitifully. “Please, Father.”
Ji Tianze coughed lightly. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, it’s just—”
“I love you the most.”
“Cough, cough…”
“Pleaseee.”
“…Alright, alright.”
Ji Ying’s eyes curved happily as she waved her slender hand. “I’ll be back soon~”
Ji Tianze was momentarily dazed, and in that instant her slim figure had already disappeared through the front door. When he came back to himself, his wife had finished dressing and was standing at the stairs, holding up two lipsticks.
“Which one should I use?”
“The one in your right hand.” After so many years, Ji Tianze had honed extraordinary judgment. “It suits your complexion better.”
“Really?” Yu Wanqing applied the color with a small mirror, checking both sides with satisfaction. “You have good taste.” Noticing her husband still watching her with a hesitant look, she asked, “Do you have something to say?”
She glanced around casually, then asked, “Where’s Yingying? Where did she go?”
“I was just about to say.” Ji Tianze coughed into his hand, speaking dryly. “Yingying went to the shop. She asked me to tell you.”
Yu Wanqing’s movements froze, her smile fading as she lifted her gaze straight at him. Ji Tianze quickly looked away.
The next second, an angry female voice rang through the villa, echoing across the hall: “Ji! Tian! Ze!”
Ji Ying arrived at Yulinling at half past nine in the morning. It wasn’t peak hours for the teahouse, but it was noticeably quieter than a few weeks ago.
Chen Yu was waiting at the front desk. Seeing Ji Ying, he hurried forward.
“Manager!”
Ji Ying nodded lightly, tapping his shoulder with her slender fingers and smiling. “No rush. Let’s go upstairs and talk slowly.”
In the tea room, Ji Ying lowered her curled lashes, her delicate hands carefully awakening the tea leaves. “To be honest, I’m embarrassed—I haven’t even tried this batch of tea myself…”
Chen Yu rested his chin in his hand, watching Ji Ying’s profile, unable to look away out of habit. “It’s not the manager’s fault. Clearly, the problem lies with this batch of tea leaves.”
Speaking of the tea source, Chen Yu’s face darkened with anger. “That profiteer Wang Xing—since we refused to buy from him, he’s been spreading word that we won’t be able to get good tea anywhere else, just waiting to see us collapse!”
The original supplier hadn’t been Wang Xing, but his father. Uncle Wang had always been honest and reliable in business, but after his health failed, the family business was inherited by his son—leading to the current situation.
Ji Ying lowered her head, her slender fingers tapping lightly against the rim of her teacup as she thought aloud: “I’ll find a way. I must go to Huizhou sometime soon.”
Chen Yu looked at her with concern. “But your family…” He trailed off, interrupted by the crackle of the walkie-talkie in his arms. He answered, hearing a waiter’s soft report: “That Young Master Yan is here again! He asked if the manager was in, said he wanted to see her.”
Chen Yu rolled his eyes. “Does he think he can see the manager whenever he wants? Tell him to stay wherever he belongs.”
The waiter hesitated. “But Young Master Yan said if the manager agrees to meet him, his third brother will buy out the most expensive tea in the shop.”
“Oh, and today he brought a friend along.”
Chen Yu swallowed back the curse rising in his throat and looked silently at Ji Ying.
She listened with her usual calm smile, set down her teacup, and rose, smoothing the hem of her qipao. “Where are they seated?”
“Private room B02.” Chen Yu looked at her worriedly. “Manager… are you really going to go?”
Ji Ying turned back, tilting her head with a light laugh. “If the sheep walks straight to my door, why wouldn’t I slaughter it?”
Upon hearing the waiter’s reply, Yan Hang was overjoyed, pouring himself cup after cup of tea. “Third Brother, you’re my lucky star! Every time you come, I get to see her.”
Fu Jingshen’s long fingers toyed with the porcelain cup. He lifted his eyelids to glance at Yan Hang, paused for a few seconds, then said quietly: “You don’t need to thank me too much.”
“No, Third Brother, you’re the best to me. Sheng and the others never want to come with me.”
Lost in his own delight, Yan Hang stretched his hand toward the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window, feeling that everything today was wonderful—even his usually hard-to-please Third Brother was agreeable, willing to accompany him, even willing to pay the bill.
Suddenly—
The crisp sound of high heels tapping against the wooden floor echoed. Behind the screen of the private room, a slender, graceful silhouette appeared, her steps light and elegant.
Ji Ying walked past the screen and entered the inner chamber.
“Honored guests, forgive me for not welcoming you sooner.” She lifted her head with a gentle smile, her voice soft. “Mr. Yan, and the gentleman beside you…” But the moment her gaze met the man’s eyes, her words abruptly stopped.