Shen Nianyi forced herself to continue tidying the tea set, clinking the cups together as if tolling a funeral bell for someone. But halfway through, she still couldn’t help glancing toward the door.
The courtyard was empty, save for A Man’s figure hanging fabric to dry—the girl was shaking out the cloth while giggling foolishly.
By the time she had completely tidied the tearoom and adjusted her mood to step outside, Da Chun was scratching his head at the entrance, saying:
“Shopkeeper, Young Master Pei just stormed out in a huff earlier. He didn’t even acknowledge me when I greeted him…”
Shen Nianyi kept a stern face as she straightened the account books on the counter, not looking up as she said:
“Let him go wherever he wants. He’s a grown man; it’s not like he’ll get lost.”
Da Chun closed his mouth, not daring to say anything more.
Even so.
For the entire afternoon, Shen Nianyi seemed somewhat distracted.
Whenever the light and shadows shifted at the entrance and someone came in, her hand moving the abacus beads would slow by half a beat, as if she’d suddenly forgotten how to calculate “three down, five remove two.”
Hearing familiar footsteps, she would always look up, then quickly lower her head again, flicking the abacus beads with a clatter, as if trying to compete with someone.
The sky gradually darkened, and the dull, drawn-out “thump, thump, thump” of the market-closing drums from the West Market echoed, urging people to return home.
Cloud Silk Atelier should also close for the day.
Shen Nianyi personally put up the door planks. As she closed the final panel, she gazed at the deepening twilight outside and unconsciously paused for a moment.
The evening wind blew past, swirling the fallen leaves on the ground.
“Time to eat!” Da Chun, ever carefree, ran toward the backyard at the scent of food, craning his neck and sniffing loudly even before reaching the table.
“Wow! Stir-fried lamb with scallions today! And cabbage tofu! Xiao Ya, your cooking skills are getting better and better!”
Xiao Ya was just placing the final plate of stir-fried seasonal vegetables on the table. Hearing this, she gave Da Chun a shy smile and gestured for him to go wash his hands.
Da Chun chuckled and hurried to the well to wash up, humming a little tune as he did.
The four of them sat around the small table in the backyard. Compared to usual, the atmosphere seemed much quieter—mainly because a certain voice accustomed to cracking jokes was missing.
Da Chun couldn’t wait to pick up a piece of lamb with his chopsticks, eating until his mouth gleamed with oil: “Mmm! Delicious! Xiao Ya, this lamb is stir-fried so fragrantly!”
A Man kicked him under the table, gave him a meaningful look, and then gestured with her chin toward a certain empty seat.
Only then did Da Chun catch on, lowering his voice: “Uh… Young Master Pei… isn’t coming back for dinner?”
Shen Nianyi picked up some greens with her chopsticks, her tone calm: “Don’t mind him. Let’s eat our meal.”
A Man immediately chimed in, her voice filled with extreme displeasure and deliberately raised a notch, as if intentionally speaking for someone to hear:
“If you ask me, Young Master Pei is probably having a grand time at some tavern right now! Fine wine and delicacies, maybe even dancers for company. How can our simple fare compare to the exotic delicacies outside?”
She grew more indignant as she spoke, tapping her chopsticks against the rim of her bowl with a clatter:
“I say, Shopkeeper, you shouldn’t keep thinking about him. He’s out there enjoying himself freely; why would he remember to come back for this humble home-cooked meal?”
“Who’s thinking about him?” Shen Nianyi set her chopsticks down on the table. “Whether he comes back or not, wherever he goes, it’s his business. Even if he calls a hundred dancers and books Pingkang Ward for three days and nights of drinking, it has nothing to do with me!”
Seeing this topic was going nowhere, A Man’s eyes darted, and she switched to another subject, her tone softening, carrying a hint of provocation:
“In my opinion, that Young Master Murong today was quite good. He’s what you’d call a true gentleman—speaking gently and elegantly, handling matters thoughtfully. And he owns several mines in Lingnan…”
She deliberately emphasized the word “mines”:
“Much better than certain people who idle around all day, only know how to annoy others, and disappear at critical moments. If we could really cooperate with Young Master Murong, wouldn’t our raw material problems be solved with just a word?”
Da Chun, sitting nearby, nodded foolishly: “Yeah, yeah, Young Master Murong even praised Xiao Ya’s handwriting, saying he has talent.”
Xiao Ya, who had been quietly eating, looked up at this, his face indeed flushing slightly. He shook his head gently at Da Chun, signaling him to stop.
“Fine.” Shen Nianyi suddenly put down her bowl and chopsticks, smiling.
“Then let’s cooperate with him. Young Master Murong has money, mines, speaks well, and even knows how to praise people. Once the cooperation is settled, our Cloud Silk Atelier will never have to worry about raw materials again. Orders will come pouring in, and we’ll make a fortune.”
She stood up, her tone as cheerful as if announcing some great news: “When that happens, everyone’s monthly wages will double. We’ll have meat with every meal, eat whatever we want, wear whatever we like. How wonderful.”
With that, she headed toward her room: “I’m done eating. Take your time.”
A Man and Da Chun exchanged glances, looking at Shen Nianyi’s barely touched bowl of rice. Neither dared to say a word.
Xiao Ya watched Shen Nianyi’s departing back with concern, gently tugging at A Man’s sleeve.
A Man sighed, lowering her voice: “Oh no, the boss is really angry.”
Da Chun looked up blankly, grains of rice still stuck to the corner of his mouth:
“Huh? What happened? Didn’t the boss say it was fine? If we cooperate with Young Master Murong, we’ll live the high life.”
A Man shot him an exasperated glare: “Eat, eat, all you think about is eating! Didn’t you see the boss barely touched her favorite cabbage?”
Da Chun blinked, thinking hard for a long moment before suddenly slapping his forehead: “I get it! The boss is… is…”
He stammered for a while without finishing: “So is the boss angry or happy? I’m getting more and more confused!”
A Man rolled her eyes in frustration, and Xiao Ya couldn’t help but facepalm.
The meal ended with Da Chun utterly bewildered.
The atmosphere at the breakfast table the next morning was unusually tense.
The millet porridge slowly cooled in the bowls as everyone ate in silence, heads bowed, with only the occasional clink of chopsticks against the edges of the bowls.
Shen Nianyi sat at the head of the table, sipping her porridge in small mouthfuls without glancing sideways, as if the empty chair opposite her didn’t exist at all.
Just as A Man couldn’t bear it any longer and was about to say something to break the freezing atmosphere—
The back door creaked open.
Pei Yanshu walked in with his usual stride, carrying the familiar Zhao’s oil-paper package in his hand.
He seemed completely oblivious to the unusual quiet at the table, casually placing the oil-paper package on the table. His tone was as relaxed as if the person who had slammed the door and left yesterday wasn’t him:
“The Bilo Silk filling this morning is especially generous. I had to wait in line for a while to get it.”
He helped himself to a bowl of porridge, sat down in the empty seat opposite Shen Nianyi, picked up a flatbread and took a bite, then said to Xiao Ya beside him:
“The pickles today are mixed just right—perfectly seasoned, and the sesame oil is fragrant.”
Xiao Ya had been silently eating with his head down. Hearing this, he looked up, opened his mouth as if wanting to gesture something, but sensing the tense atmosphere at the table, he simply gave Pei Yanshu a slight nod, though the tips of his ears quietly turned red.
Throughout, his gaze swept past Shen Nianyi’s hair bun, past the tree shadows outside the window, past the bowls and dishes on the table—but never once landed on her.
Shen Nianyi held her chopsticks, unmoving.
All the questions and reproaches she had prepared were stuck in her throat.
How could he be like this?
Yesterday, he stormed off in a huff, yet today he acted as if nothing had happened?
A Man cautiously spoke up: “Young Master Pei, yesterday you…”
“What about yesterday?” Pei Yanshu interrupted her, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather. “Oh, I went for a stroll in the outskirts and found a decent dye shop.”
Da Chun took the cloth bundle, and his honest face immediately broke into a smile. “Ah! Thank you, Young Master Pei! I was just worrying about the color of the cloth I dyed last time!”
He casually opened the oil-paper package, took out a Bilo Silk bun, and stuffed it into his mouth. Chewing, he mumbled, “Everyone eat, why aren’t you eating? Young Master Pei bought these specially, and they’re still warm!”
Seeing that no one else moved, he enthusiastically pushed the oil-paper package toward the center of the table and said to Shen Nianyi, “Shopkeeper, try one! The meat filling is seasoned so fragrantly!”
A Man stomped hard on his foot under the table. Da Chun yelped, “Ouch!” and looked at A Man in confusion. “Why’d you step on me? Did I say something wrong?”
A Man glared at him furiously. First, she shot a quick glance at Shen Nianyi’s expressionless face, then glared fiercely at Pei Yanshu, who pretended nothing was amiss, before finally making exaggerated eye motions at Da Chun and mouthing silently: “Id—iot—!”
“Is your eye bothering you today? Why do you keep blinking? Want me to blow on it for you?”
Xiao Ya watched this scene, silently lowered his head, his shoulders trembling suspiciously. He quickly shoveled a large mouthful of porridge and buried his face in the bowl. The dining table fell into silence again, but this time it was an even more delicate silence.
Pei Yanshu continued eating as if nothing had happened, even commenting, “The porridge today is cooked just right—the rice oil has been simmered out, thick and smooth.”
Shen Nianyi suddenly set down her chopsticks. The bottom of her bowl made a crisp sound as it hit the table.
Everyone was startled, except for Pei Yanshu, who still sipped his porridge unhurriedly, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
“I’m done eating,” Shen Nianyi stood up. “Time to open the shop.”
She turned and left. Seeing this, A Man quickly shoveled the last mouthful of porridge into her mouth and mumbled, “I—I’m done too! I’ll go help the shopkeeper!”
Only three people remained at the table.
Da Chun looked in the direction Shen Nianyi had left and belatedly asked, “Young Master Pei, is the shopkeeper angry?”
Only then did Pei Yanshu set down his porridge bowl. He wiped the corners of his mouth unhurriedly with a handkerchief and said flatly, “Who knows.”
The morning light grew brighter. Cloud Silk Atelier had been open for business for an hour and a half.
In the front shop, Shen Nianyi was intently introducing the newly arrived Soft Smoke Silk to a customer. Her face wore a flawless smile, her tone gentle and patient.
From the backyard came the sound of Pei Yanshu directing Da Chun in moving the fabric:
“Left, yes, that box, move it another inch to the left… No, too far, back half an inch… Good, right there.”
His voice sounded even more brisk and decisive than usual, as if he had endless energy to burn off. Da Chun was kept running around in circles, sweating profusely, but he didn’t dare ask any questions.
A Man darted back and forth between the front shop and the backyard like a messenger, each time passing Shen Nianyi with light footsteps and a cautious, probing look in her eyes.
But when she passed by Pei Yanshu, she couldn’t help but shoot him a few resentful glances.
Xiao Ya was the quietest, silently wiping down the counter and shelves, yet his large, dark eyes took in every movement in both the front and back of the shop.
As the sun rose higher, the bell from the West Market rang out, marking the exact hour of Si.
It was the time for a tea break, and as if perfectly timed, Murong Jin appeared at the entrance of Cloud Silk Atelier.
He still carried an exquisite food box in his hand, a gentle smile gracing his face.
The moment Murong Jin appeared at the door, A Man’s eyes lit up, and she immediately went to greet him: “Young Master Murong! You’re here!”
“Miss A Man.” Murong Jin nodded with a smile, his gaze sweeping across the shop before settling on Shen Nianyi behind the counter.
“I passed by Zhenwei Zhai and remembered their Suzhou pastries are exceptional, so I brought some for everyone to try. Consider it a thank you for Manager Shen’s hospitality yesterday.”
A Man’s cheeks flushed slightly as she quickly took the food box: “Young Master, you’re too kind! How could we possibly…” Though her words were modest, her movements were anything but slow. She eagerly opened the lid, letting out a soft gasp of admiration at the sight of the delicate pastries.
“Oh! How beautiful! These pastries look just like flowers!”
Da Chun, who had been moving fabric, immediately put down his work and hurried over at the mention of pastries, staring longingly at the box: “They smell amazing! Young Master Murong, you’re truly generous!”
Murong Jin calmly introduced them: “This is osmanthus Dingsheng cake, this is crab roe pastry, and this is rose poria cookie…”
“Mmm! This is delicious!” Da Chun finally couldn’t resist. Amid A Man’s hushed exclamation of “How can you just grab it with your hands?” he picked up a crab roe pastry and took a large bite, immediately conquered by the savory, flaky, and richly layered taste. His eyes widened, and he nodded vigorously, mouth full.
Shen Nianyi had to step in to restore order: “Da Chun, mind your manners. Young Master Murong, you’ve spent too much. These pastries aren’t cheap.”
“Just a few pastries, nothing of great value. Would Manager Shen like to try one?” Murong Jin personally picked up a pair of silver chopsticks prepared nearby, picked up an exquisite almond Buddha’s hand pastry, and offered it to Shen Nianyi with a smile. “This is the work of a master craftsman from Suzhou, rarely seen in Chang’an.”
Shen Nianyi couldn’t refuse and had to accept it, taking a small bite before nodding in praise: “Indeed, it’s flaky and delicious. Young Master Murong is very thoughtful.”
The smile in Murong Jin’s eyes deepened: “I’m glad Manager Shen likes it. Next time, I’ll bring some other varieties.”
The two exchanged a smile—one gentle and refined, the other poised and graceful—giving others the impression of a perfect match.
Pei Yanshu stood by the shelves, taking in the entire scene.
He sneered coldly, casually tossing the fabric back onto the shelf with some force, then turned and walked toward the backyard, intending to draw attention—though in reality, no one paid him any mind.
A Man was busy distributing pastries to Da Chun and Xiao Ya, who were waiting eagerly with wide eyes. Da Chun ate messily, crumbs all over his hands, while Xiao Ya nibbled delicately, her eyes sparkling brightly.
The customers were either selecting fabrics or chatting quietly among themselves. Shen Nianyi’s attention, it seemed, was entirely focused on the pastry in her hand and Murong Jin before her.