She had done on-site restoration work for clients before and knew that some people were indeed wary of letting their treasures leave the premises.
After a pause, Xu Youqing said, "Alright, I'll bring my tools over."
"Saturday at ten in the morning, Fushun Hutong."
Xu Youqing acknowledged and hung up.
…
East of the city, at a private golf course.
Jin Zongmin stood tall in a white polo shirt. He swung cleanly, the white ball tracing a beautiful arc through the air before landing precisely on the distant green.
"Beautiful!" Duan Sikai applauded from the side.
Still curious about the dinner party from a few days ago, Duan Sikai took the water offered by the caddie, took a sip, and finally couldn't hold back: "You and Ji Zhongyun… since when have you two been so 'chummy'? How come I didn't know?"
Jin Zongmin handed his club to the caddie, took a towel to wipe his hands, and said in a flat, unruffled tone: "When were we ever close?"
Duan Sikai was taken aback. "Then why did you talk to him so much, and even bring up Fan Meidi's matter? Isn't that woman his—"
"Useful." Jin Zongmin cut him off tersely.
Duan Sikai wisely dropped the subject. Jin Zongmin always had his own methods; if he said it was useful, then it must serve a purpose.
The two walked side by side toward the next hole.
"By the way, there's a horse race in Hong Kong this weekend. I heard a fine thoroughbred is running. Want to go have some fun?" Duan Sikai changed the subject.
"No time this week." Jin Zongmin headed for the golf cart.
"I already checked with Secretary Gao—he said you had no plans this weekend?" Duan Sikai followed.
Jin Zongmin sat into the cart. "I have things to do."
He paused, as if something had just occurred to him, and turned his head to look at Duan Sikai: "Lend me the chef from your Shuyu Garden estate for Saturday."
Duan Sikai was taken aback. "Don't you have chefs at your place?"
"The one who makes Pingcheng cuisine," Jin Zongmin explained.
Duan Sikai was even more confused. "Is the old man changing chefs?"
"No."
Jin Zongmin wasn't particularly fond of Pingcheng cuisine. For him to go out of his way to borrow a chef and host someone at home…
Duan Sikai couldn't help but speculate. He tilted his head suspiciously. "So who's this important figure you're entertaining? I say, Boss Jin, if there's money to be made, don't forget your brother."
Jin Zongmin shot him a sidelong glance. "You really are obsessed with money."
"Who is it, then?" Duan Sikai leaned in, lowering his voice.
Jin Zongmin smiled but didn't answer, signaling the driver to go.
Saturday.
Xu Youqing arrived at Fushun Hutong as agreed.
She hadn't noticed last time, but today she realized it was a quiet, old street—the pavement smooth and clean, with locust trees lining the roadside.
She carried a lightweight toolbox. Just as she reached the screen wall, the servant waiting there stepped forward to greet her. "Miss Xu, you've arrived. Mr. Jin is waiting for you to join him for lunch."
"Lunch?" Xu Youqing paused mid-step. "No need to go to the trouble. I'll leave as soon as I finish the restoration…"
"The food has already been prepared." The servant smiled, her tone gentle.
Jin Zongmin walked out from inside at that moment. He was dressed casually today—a light-colored crewneck sweater over a pale blue shirt. Gone was the cold sharpness of his suits; in its place was a relaxed, at-home ease. Yet his bearing still commanded attention.
"I'm not hungry." Xu Youqing insisted.
Jin Zongmin seemed not to hear her refusal. He turned and walked back inside. "If I'm hungry, I won't have the strength to fetch your vase."
Xu Youqing stood frozen in place.
Noticing she hadn't followed, Jin Zongmin stopped and turned back to look at her. Sunlight filtered through the eaves of the corridor, casting shadows across his deep-set brows and eyes.
He looked at her. "Keep me company while I eat?" His tone sounded like a question, but his gaze didn't carry the air of someone seeking permission.
Xu Youqing stared at Jin Zongmin. If she didn't have this meal, who knew when that vase would ever get repaired.
She'd already come all this way—one meal wouldn't make a difference.
"Alright." She fell into step behind him.
At the dining table, dishes were carefully laid out one by one—authentic Pingcheng home cooking. The colors and aromas stirred familiar scenes from the depths of Xu Youqing's memory.
Xu Youqing held her chopsticks, her movements somewhat slow.
Though she'd lived in Pingcheng with her aunt's family, her uncle-in-law was from Yunchuan and preferred spicy flavors, so she hadn't actually eaten much of the mild-tasting Pingcheng cuisine.
Xu Youqing lowered her head, taking small bites. It was a familiar taste. She hadn't had this flavor in a long time, and her eyes couldn't help but sting slightly.
Jin Zongmin had been watching her the whole time. Last time she'd eaten Pingcheng food, her face had been bright with delight. Today, however, it was filled with dejection—even a hint of sorrow.
"Don't like it?" Jin Zongmin asked softly.
Xu Youqing shook her head. "No, it's not that."
"Is the flavor off?" He looked at her.
Xu Youqing pointed at the clay-pot duck in front of her, her voice somewhat low: "This dish… it tastes a lot like the way my father used to cook it."
So she was homesick.
Jin Zongmin was silent for a moment, then chose his words carefully: "I heard… your parents passed away?"
"Mm." Xu Youqing acknowledged, then paused before adding, "I suddenly dreamed of them last night."
She didn't want to expose her vulnerable side to Jin Zongmin. Xu Youqing took a deep breath and changed the subject. "Aren't you hungry? Why aren't you eating?"
Jin Zongmin moved his chopsticks symbolically, but most of the time, his gaze remained fixed on Xu Youqing.
Her mood seemed to have improved slightly. She ate her food in small bites, her cheeks puffing out a little as she chewed, her lashes lowered—like a small animal focused on its meal.
He really wanted to pat her fluffy head.
Xu Youqing suddenly looked up, colliding with Jin Zongmin's gaze without any warning. He didn't look away either, just watched her, a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You… why are you staring at me?" She felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, her ears warming slightly.
Jin Zongmin let out a low chuckle, his eyes lingering on her face. "It just occurred to me—you look a bit like Peter Rabbit."
When Jin Zongmin had been studying in England, he'd bought a vintage Peter Rabbit figurine at an antique shop, and it had been sitting in his study over there ever since.
Xu Youqing's eyes showed confusion.
Jin Zongmin explained: "The way you eat—you look like the rabbit in my study."
Xu Youqing lifted her head. "Peter Rabbit?"
Jin Zongmin nodded. "Have you heard the story of Peter Rabbit?"
Xu Youqing shook her head.
Jin Zongmin smiled. "Anyway, it's the story of a little rabbit who loves to run around and never listens."
"You should go read it sometime."
A smile lingered at the corners of his lips, his gaze still resting on her face with an intensity that made her heartbeat falter.
Xu Youqing's cheeks grew warm. She averted her eyes and said in a muffled voice, "I'm done eating. I'm going to fix the vase now."
Jin Zongmin was still smiling, watching her with leisurely composure.
"Where's the vase?" Xu Youqing looked up.
"First room on the right as you go out. The door's open."
She picked up her toolbox and went to the room Jin Zongmin had mentioned, sitting down to begin her work.
The room had clearly been specially prepared—tools were even laid out, arranged neatly in order.
What surprised her most was the window. Outside it lay a small pond, dotted with a few withered lotus stems. The winter sunlight lazily spread across the surface, tranquil and full of Zen-like serenity.
Setting aside the fact that this was Jin Zongmin's home, she truly loved it here. Doing restoration work in this place was almost a pleasure.
Xu Youqing steadied her mind, took out her glue-mixing dish and magnifying glass, and began to focus on her task.
After some time had passed, Jin Zongmin walked in carrying a plate of pastries, setting it gently on a corner of the workbench.
"Take a break. Have something to eat."
"Thanks, but no need." Xu Youqing didn't even look up, her full attention on the porcelain shard in her hands.
She was using a heat gun to treat a joint when she accidentally burned herself. She let out a soft hiss and pulled her hand back.
"What's wrong?" Jin Zongmin stepped forward, taking her wrist to look at it.
Ever since she'd started learning porcelain restoration, her hands were either getting cut or burned. Xu Youqing had grown used to it.
"It's nothing. Just a burn." Xu Youqing tried to pull her hand back, but Jin Zongmin held it even tighter.
He looked down at it—a small red patch had formed on the center of her left wrist.
"Wait here." Jin Zongmin turned and left.
Before long, he returned, carrying a first-aid kit.
Xu Youqing was rinsing the reddened area with cold water.
Jin Zongmin came over and guided her to sit on the sofa.
"Give me your hand."
Xu Youqing hesitated. "No need, really, it's fine…"
"It's red." Jin Zongmin pulled over a chair, sat down across from her, and opened the ointment.
"I'll do it myself." Xu Youqing instinctively shrank back.
"Don't move." Jin Zongmin wouldn't take no for an answer. He cradled her hand, dipped a cotton swab in the ointment, and carefully applied it to the red mark.
They were too close—close enough that she could see his lowered eyelashes clearly.
Flustered, she tried to pull her hand back. "I can do it myself."
He didn't let go.
She pulled a little harder, but he still held on. Instead, he lifted his eyelids and gave her a calm, indifferent look.
Xu Youqing grew anxious and tried to stand up. Jin Zongmin suddenly pressed his knee lightly against the side of her leg, trapping her in place.
She struggled harder, but Jin Zongmin didn't budge.
"Jin Zongmin…" Xu Youqing's face flushed with urgency.
"If you move again," he leaned in slightly, his gaze falling on her lips, a threat that was both undisguised and teasing, "I can't guarantee I won't kiss you."
Xu Youqing froze, staring at Jin Zongmin's face as it drew closer, her heart pounding loudly.
Suddenly, her phone rang from the workbench.
Jin Zongmin stood up, took a long stride over, and picked up her phone. He glanced at the lit screen.
The two characters "Han Zheng" were clearly visible, glaringly bright.
Xu Youqing hurried over and took the phone from him.
She turned her back, walked to the window, and only then pressed the answer button, her voice unconsciously lowering. "Hello?"
"Youqing, I'm coming back to China next Monday. What gift do you want?"
Han Zheng was in France with Fan Meidi, dealing with matters related to the winery.
From the corner of her eye, Xu Youqing caught sight of Jin Zongmin leaning against the table nearby, his posture lazy, his gaze fixed on her with an amused, appraising look.
Clutching the phone, she said softly, "No need to bring anything. Just come back safely."
"What about perfume?" Han Zheng asked. "Do you like floral, fruity, or woody scents?"
Beside her, Jin Zongmin's gaze burned hot. Xu Youqing sat there, restless and uneasy, wanting nothing more than to end the call quickly. "Really, there's no need."
"Why is your voice so quiet? Where are you?"
Xu Youqing clutched her phone, unsure how to answer.
"Studying at the library again?" Han Zheng asked.
Xu Youqing knew that Han Zheng harbored some resentment toward Jin Zongmin.
It would be difficult to explain the whole story of why she was at Jin Zongmin's place repairing the vase. She was afraid Han Zheng might misunderstand, so she mumbled vaguely in response: "Mm."
Han Zheng chuckled on the other end. "Alright, then. You go ahead and study. See you when you get back."
The call ended.
Xu Youqing turned around, and Jin Zongmin was watching her.
He smiled.
Something gleamed in his eyes—the satisfaction of a hunter watching his prey step willingly into the trap, exactly as expected.
"Xu Youqing," he said slowly, "you're lying."
Xu Youqing didn't respond. She turned and walked toward the workbench.
Jin Zongmin followed, refusing to let it go. "Why didn't you tell him you're here with me?"
"That's my personal business," she said, picking up her tools again. "I'm not obligated to explain myself to you."
Jin Zongmin let out a laugh, staring at her slightly furrowed brow. "He had you investigated, and you didn't think to investigate him in return?"
Xu Youqing ignored him.
"He's in France with a beautiful woman, spending every day together." Jin Zongmin continued, unhurried and deliberate. "That's a place that can turn anyone's head. Aren't you going to ask a few questions?"
Xu Youqing's hand paused, but she didn't look up. "He's there for work. He knows what he's doing."
"Is that so?" Jin Zongmin raised an eyebrow, his mockery undisguised. "Han Zheng is very good at winning women over—especially wealthy older women. Without those 'sisters' of his, he'd probably… still be scraping by in some nightclub somewhere, wouldn't he?"
Xu Youqing's expression shifted slightly.
Every word Jin Zongmin spoke was dripping with contempt.
Indignation rose in Xu Youqing's chest. Jin Zongmin might come from an illustrious family, but what right did he have to look down on others? Just because he stood on high, did he think he could trample on other people's efforts?
She lifted her head abruptly. "Han Zheng doesn't steal or cheat. He earns his money through his own skill and hard work. Even if… even if he does charm wealthy older women, that's still his own ability. He hasn't done anything improper. He walks with integrity and sits with a clear conscience."
Jin Zongmin looked at Xu Youqing.
Her face was slightly flushed from anger, her lips pressed tightly together, her whole being devoted to defending that man.
He smiled, but his eyes gradually darkened.
"Fine," he said. "You're certainly generous."
Jin Zongmin didn't look at her again. He turned and strode out of the room.
Xu Youqing steadied her emotions and returned to her work with full focus. Once the item was repaired, she would have no further entanglements with him.
Fortunately, the vase had only chipped a small piece, and the repair wasn't complicated. After finishing, she carefully inspected it again, confirmed there were no issues, and began packing up her tools.
Jin Zongmin walked back in, holding the tube of burn ointment, and extended it toward her. "Take the ointment. Remember to apply it when you get home."
Xu Youqing didn't accept it. "No need, thank you. I have some at home."
Jin Zongmin looked at her cold, averted profile. She was actually still angry with him—because of that man.
He didn't press further. He set the ointment down beside her packed toolbox.
"Suit yourself."
Xu Youqing didn't even glance at the ointment. She picked up her case, her tone distant: "I've inspected the vase—there are no issues. The clothes you lent me last time have also been washed and are placed over there."
Jin Zongmin's face was cold. He said nothing in response.
Xu Youqing waited a few seconds. When no response came, she gave a slight nod. "Then I won't disturb you." With that, she picked up her suitcase and walked out without looking back.
A moment later, a servant came in carrying freshly cut fruit, beaming. "Miss Xu, Mr. Jin said—"
Jin Zongmin turned his head. "Throw it away."
The servant: "Ah? Oh… yes, of course."
…
A week later.
Jin Zongmin showed up at Fan Meidi's group dinner.
The day Han Zheng returned to the country, Xu Youqing happened to be back in Pingcheng, so the two missed each other. She had just returned to Jingxi when Fang Dayu called her in a panic and rushed her over to the winery.
"What exactly is wrong with Han Zheng? Where does he feel unwell?" Xu Youqing pressed, a sense of unease stirring in her heart.
Fang Dayu hemmed and hawed. "He's… he's…" He scratched his head. "Ah, you'll know when you see Brother Zheng."
With that, he scurried off.
Filled with confusion, Xu Youqing stood in the small garden behind the winery, looking around.
"Youqing…"
She turned. Han Zheng stood just a few steps away.
"Dayu said you weren't feeling well. Are you—" Before she could finish, Han Zheng stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Han Zheng?" Caught off guard by the hug, Xu Youqing's body stiffened slightly.
"Don't move," Han Zheng said, burying his face deep in the crook of her neck, his voice muffled. "Let me hold you for a while. I missed you so much."
Xu Youqing's body remained somewhat rigid, unaccustomed to such open displays of emotion from Han Zheng.
"You went to France, but you seem… a little strange somehow," she said softly, hesitantly patting his back.
"Strange how?" Han Zheng chuckled lowly, loosening his hold slightly, though his arm still loosely circled her waist as he looked down at her. "It's because I missed you."
Footsteps sounded not far away.
Xu Youqing hastily stepped half a step back from Han Zheng's embrace and turned to look.
Beneath the sparse, bare branches, Jin Zongmin stood tall. He wore a long black coat, his posture straight and imposing, yet his expression was so dark and grim it cut deeper than the winter wind.
Carrying an oppressive menace, he walked toward her step by step.