The closer they got to Beiling Temple, the quieter the mountains became.
Tall trees lined both sides of the road, receding continuously behind them.
Fu Jinglan handed Shen Lingxi a paper bag. “You’ve been pretty all the way here. Change into pants.”
“Be good today.”
A Buddhist temple, a formal occasion.
Shen Lingxi understood and nodded obediently. “I know.”
At the same time, the partition in front rose.
…
Beiling Temple was nothing like the bustling place Shen Lingxi had imagined.
No pedestrians, no vehicles—utterly serene.
Shen Lingxi glanced at Fu Jinglan and found her answer.
He had such privileges.
The temple gate stood tightly shut at the end of the road, slowly opening as the black Bentley approached.
An elderly man in plain clothes emerged, waiting quietly.
The three in the car stepped out almost simultaneously. Fu Jinglan and Mu Suizhou shook hands with the old man in turn, greeting him, thanking him for his trouble.
To Shen Lingxi, it sounded somewhat formal yet deeply sincere.
She also bowed to the old man. “Hello.”
The old man had a kind and benevolent face. After nodding, he said, “Follow me, everyone.”
Today was Shen Lingxi’s first time offering incense and praying before Buddha.
She stood in the center before the statue, with Fu Jinglan and Mu Suizhou on either side.
Each held three incense sticks. After lighting them, they raised them above their heads, bowed three times, inserted the incense into the burner, and finally knelt in reverence.
At noon, the old man took the three for a vegetarian meal.
Shen Lingxi remained silent throughout.
Obedient as a little mute.
Somehow, in such solemn and devout moments, tears threatened to well up in her eyes countless times.
Before leaving Beiling Temple, the old man gave Shen Lingxi a bracelet. “It has been blessed. You may wear it every day.”
Shen Lingxi knew a thing or two about valuables.
This was qinan agarwood from Nha Trang, Vietnam—sinking-grade, fully oiled wild old wood, its fragrance unfolding in layers of coolness, sweetness, aroma, creaminess, and floral notes.
Her grandfather had once bought one at an auction for eighteen million.
The one before her was even more exquisite.
Shen Lingxi hesitated to accept it. First, she looked up at Fu Jinglan, seeking guidance on what to do.
Like a child looking to a parent.
Fu Jinglan said firmly, “Take it.”
Shen Lingxi quickly accepted it with both hands and bowed in thanks. “Thank you.”
Afterward, Fu Jinglan and the old man went elsewhere to talk.
Only when Shen Lingxi put on the bracelet did she notice one bead engraved with the character “Xi.”
So, this bracelet had been prepared in advance.
She ran to ask Mu Suizhou, “Secretary-General, do you know what the Governor came to pray for today?”
Mu Suizhou was serious and earnest. “Yes.”
“To pray for your endless peace and longevity.”
So, Fu Jinglan had come to Beiling Temple today not for himself.
Shen Lingxi touched the prayer beads, her eyes stinging slightly.
On the way back to Lu Manor, she remained quiet, her head lowered the whole time.
She sketched building after building.
Shen Lingxi had excellent drawing skills and a natural talent.
“Do you like Lin Huiyin?” Fu Jinglan asked softly beside her.
“Hmm?” Shen Lingxi turned and nodded vigorously. “How did you know?”
Fu Jinglan had work to attend to and shouldn’t have glanced her way even once.
“The lines, the structure, the blend of traditional Chinese ink painting aesthetics and Western architectural precision, the elegant small regular script, the integration of text and image.” A faint smile touched Fu Jinglan’s lips. “It has the flavor of a scholar-architect.”
He understood so much.
But Shen Lingxi’s gaze dimmed from bright to somber as she gently held her pen. “I studied architecture in university.”
But she had already dropped out.
Fu Jinglan took a sketch and said lightly, “I know.”
The sunset gradually deepened.
The coastal road was enveloped in darkness.
Shen Lingxi’s usual liveliness still hadn’t returned.
She leaned against Fu Jinglan’s shoulder with a stack of drawings in her arms. “Were you in such a hurry to return to Beizhou just to bring me to Beiling Temple earlier?”
Fu Jinglan’s profile was somewhat blurred in the dim light. “Somewhat related.”
“Am I in mortal danger?”
“No, it’s just that I don’t like children who are always sick. They’re troublesome.”
Oh, so she wasn’t going to die. Shen Lingxi had promised her mother she would live to be a hundred.
The little girl stopped overthinking, touched the bracelet, and set aside its value—she genuinely liked it. “Brother, once the contract expires, are you going to take the bracelet back?”
Mu Suizhou glanced at the rearview mirror. What had he just heard?
Brother? A brother from different parents?
Before, it was a father with no blood relation. Mu Suizhou’s ears tingled.
“Old Fu, what role are you going to play next? Give me a heads-up.”
“A plumber making a house call?”
“A subordinate being scolded in the office?”
“A husband signing divorce papers?”
“Or the twin brother of a boyfriend?”
Why did it sound like she’d seen all of these? Shen Lingxi listened with great interest and accidentally voiced her thoughts. “Any… any of them would work.”
Fu Jinglan first shot her a warning look, as if to say, “Just you wait.”
Then he turned to Mu Suizhou. “Playing your long-lost father.”
Mu Suizhou: “Sure, Dad.”
He’d grown up without a father anyway—calling anyone “Dad” was no big deal.
Shen Lingxi was still finding their conversation amusing when she suddenly found herself sitting on Fu Jinglan’s lap.
The partition rose again.
Mu Suizhou even activated the soundproofing mode.
Don’t look, don’t listen—those two in the back were toxic.
As night fell, the car’s interior lights came on.
Fu Jinglan held Shen Lingxi and commanded in a deep voice, “Change back into the plaid skirt.”
He was so arrogant.
Shen Lingxi refused. “No.”
“Give me back the bracelet.”
“I’ll change.”
The beautiful plaid skirt fell onto the high-quality trousers.
Then, “Smack!”
“Shen Lingxi, you can’t just say anything. Even if you do, shouldn’t you think before you speak?”
That “any of them would work” had genuinely startled Fu Jinglan.
Shen Lingxi instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around Fu Jinglan’s neck, pressing herself against him, pitifully saying, “I should.”
“Should what?”
“Think before I speak.”
“If it were just Mu Suizhou today, it would’ve been fine.” Fu Jinglan gently rubbed Shen Lingxi’s sore spot to ease the pain. “If it were someone else, you’d become the object of their X-rated fantasies.”
Shen Lingxi fell silent.
She slumped against Fu Jinglan’s shoulder, wilted.
It was all her fault for being too curious in the past and watching all sorts of messy things. But if it were Fu Jinglan’s body and face, it would be really thrilling.
What a coincidence—Shen Lingxi heard Fu Jinglan say:
“Alright, now you can play the scolded subordinate.”
Shen Lingxi’s eyes lit up, and she quickly sat up. “Am I scolding you?”
Scolding Fu Jinglan—how exciting.
Fu Jinglan: “No, I’m scolding you.”
Shen Lingxi: “…”
By the time the car arrived at Lu Manor, the evening lights were already glowing.
As soon as Shen Lingxi stepped out of the car, her legs felt like walking on soft cotton.
Her voice was hoarse, her lips swollen, the corners of her eyes were terribly red, and upon closer inspection, a faint blush tinted her cheeks, giving her a peach-blossom complexion.
Shen Lingxi rushed straight to the bathroom as soon as she entered her room.
Song Zhili was worried. “Axi, what’s wrong? Weren’t you supposed to go to Beiling Temple to pray?”
Shen Lingxi:
“On the way there, I was praying to Buddha.”
“On the way back… I was praying at the wedding ceremony.”