Yuan Yingti simply could not stop her tears. She cried until her head spun and her vision blurred, her body growing weak along with it. Xie Zhi half-supported, half-carried her back to the room, where she collapsed onto the bed and continued to weep. It was not until the sky began to lighten that her intermittent sobbing gradually subsided, and finally there was silence.
Xie Zhi pushed her window open a crack and leaned sideways to peek inside. On the bed was a flat lump under the covers, motionless.
She had finally fallen asleep.
Xie Zhi gently closed the window and turned to leave the courtyard with Qing Shao.
After exiting the courtyard gate and securing the lock, he led Qing Shao toward the market.
Now that Yuan Yingti was no longer present, Qing Shao finally voiced his excitement: "Brother, how did you manage to trick this delicate young lady into your hands?"
Xie Zhi's expression was indifferent as he briefly recounted the sequence of events from the day he rescued Yuan Yingti.
As Qing Shao listened, his eyes grew wider and wider, and finally he clapped his hands in admiration: "Brother, you're really something!"
The two sat down at a wonton stall. The sky had just begun to brighten, and the streets were cold and quiet. They were the only customers at the stall.
Qing Shao first ordered a bowl of wonton soup. Unafraid of the heat, he tilted his head back and drank half the bowl in one go.
"Brother, now that Marquis Yong'an is dead, what do you plan to do with this eldest young miss of the marquis estate?"
Xie Zhi had not yet decided either. He lowered his eyes, deep in thought.
Qing Shao craned his neck closer and said in a mysterious whisper: "There's more news from the capital. I didn't tell you everything earlier because that young lady was present."
"What else is there?"
"During the Lantern Festival this spring, this eldest young miss of the Yuan family was rumored to be the capital's number one beauty. Her fame spread far and wide—every man in the capital wanted to lay eyes on her. But back then, she was the precious daughter of Marquis Yong'an, beyond reach…"
Qing Shao lowered his voice further. "But now that the marquis estate has fallen, those men are like dogs catching a scent, all wanting to take a bite out of her."
Xie Zhi raised his eyelids. "What do you mean?"
"Brother, you don't know—the capital is in an uproar right now. People are searching for her everywhere. Everyone knows that when the marquis estate fell, this great beauty escaped. The people outside are searching for her like mad. On the black market, someone has already offered ten thousand taels of gold to buy her!"
"Who is looking for her?"
"Who else? Wealthy merchants and powerful nobles—a pack of lustful, ravenous ghosts consumed by greed for beauty!"
A cold glint flashed through Xie Zhi's eyes.
Qing Shao studied his expression and felt he seemed to have focused on the wrong point. He hurriedly repeated: "Brother, those people want to spend ten thousand taels of gold to buy her. Ten thousand taels of gold! You're going to be rich, brother!"
Xie Zhi let out a light laugh, but the mirth did not reach his eyes—there was a hint of coldness in it. Qing Shao could not quite read his expression for the moment. He lowered his head and took a gulp of wonton soup. After a long, stifled pause, he tentatively asked: "Is brother displeased with the amount of silver… or reluctant to sell?"
Xie Zhi said nothing. The wontons happened to be ready at that moment.
Two steaming bowls of wontons were brought to the table. The rising vapor obscured his face.
Xie Zhi suddenly stood up. Qing Shao looked up: "Brother, where are you going?"
"Going back."
"Didn't we just come out? What are you going back for?"
"To cook."
"…Aren't there wontons here?" Qing Shao pointed with his chopsticks at the two bowls of hot wontons on the table.
"She doesn't like eating food from outside."
Qing Shao was stunned for a moment before he finally reacted—he realized that when Xie Zhi said he was going back to cook, he meant for that young lady. He hastily wiped his mouth and made to follow, but Xie Zhi pulled out a silver ingot and tossed it into his arms.
"Don't follow me. Find yourself a place to stay."
The man was soon far away.
Qing Shao stood rooted to the spot, holding the heavy silver ingot. He felt that something was off about Xie Zhi.
Could it be that Big Brother really couldn't bear to sell her? Had he actually taken a liking to that young lady?
No way—he'd known him for nearly ten years, and he'd never once seen Big Brother get involved with a woman. Plenty of pretty girls had cast flirtatious glances at Big Brother before, and he wouldn't even lift an eyelid.
Big Brother wouldn't suddenly change his ways. Qing Shao quickly dismissed his earlier guess.
Then why would Big Brother go back specially to cook for her? Why not cook for him? Big Brother's cooking was delicious—he wanted to eat Big Brother's cooking too.
Qing Shao stood there blankly thinking for a long while, but couldn't figure it out.
In the end, he decided to stop thinking.
If Big Brother did this, there must be a reason.
He grinned, pulled Xie Zhi's bowl of wontons over to himself, and buried his head in them, slurping them down noisily.
…
Xie Zhi returned home and peered through the crack in the window. The small, flat lump on the bed was still in its original shape—she hadn't woken up yet.
He withdrew his gaze, went inside, and lit the fire to cook congee.
Knowing she liked thin congee, he used less rice and added finely shredded chicken. It bubbled and simmered in the pot for quite a while, but by the time the congee was ready, she still hadn't woken.
Xie Zhi left the congee warming in the pot, keeping it over the dying embers.
But Yuan Yingti didn't get up until noon.
The congee in the pot had already dried out, so Xie Zhi ate it himself.
Yuan Yingti stayed in the room all the way until evening.
Night fell, the moon climbed up, casting pure, pale light across the small courtyard.
Xie Zhi stood at the cutting board, chopping vegetables, preparing to cook noodles.
Yuan Yingti had been in a daze on the bed all day, and now she finally opened her eyes.
From outside the door came the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of chopping, along with the sizzle of hot oil frying.
She listened quietly, her eyes dry and sore. She had cried for most of the night before, feeling like the sky had collapsed at the time. But after sleeping, she found she couldn't shed a single tear anymore.
Yet her father was dead, and crying only that little bit was hardly proper. Yuan Yingti tried to work up her emotions, forcing herself to cry again, but after holding it in for a long while, her eyes remained dry.
Maybe she was just tired from crying.
Rest a while.
She'd cry again later.
Yuan Yingti let out a worried sigh. Her mind was a mess right now—lost and at a loss.
What was she supposed to do next?
Without her father's protection, she was just a blind girl with no strength to truss a chicken. She definitely couldn't survive on her own.
She still needed to find herself a patron.
Yuan Yingti tossed and turned, thinking it over, until she finally remembered Pei Shuyu.
He seemed to be the only person she could count on.
…But without the Marquis's household, would Pei Shuyu still marry her?
Yuan Yingti had no confidence. She had only met Pei Shuyu a few times, with no vows of eternal love or unbreakable devotion, and she knew nothing of his true character. When her father was alive, their marriage was naturally a match of equal standing, a union made in heaven. But now that both the Marquis's household and her father were gone, she was just an orphaned girl—nothing but trouble.
Originally, she wanted to wait for her father or Pei Shuyu to come find her, but now her father was dead, and she didn't know if Pei Shuyu would still look for her. If he had already decided to abandon her, she couldn't just keep wasting time waiting here in limbo… Perhaps she should send Pei Shuyu a letter.
Tell him she was here. If Pei Shuyu had a conscience and still acknowledged this betrothal, then she would have nothing to worry about and could happily marry him.
If Pei Shuyu no longer acknowledged the betrothal, he would at least compensate her with some silver.
No man, but silver to protect herself—that would do.
Yuan Yingti was weighed down with worries, prepared for the worst, when the door was knocked at this moment.
"Miss, time to eat."
A rich fragrance drifted through the crack in the door, and Yuan Yingti's stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten all day—she was indeed hungry.
Ah, her father was dead, and yet she could still feel hungry. It seemed rather heartless.
Yuan Yingti deeply reproached herself, but then she thought again—could it be that the reason she couldn't cry earlier was simply because she was too hungry?
She should eat her fill first. Only with a full stomach would she have the strength to properly mourn her father.
Yuan Yingti rose, put on her shoes, smoothed her disheveled sideburns, and opened the door.
The aroma of food rushed at her, hot and steaming. She inhaled, and knew that tonight it was her favorite—noodles.
Yuan Yingti sat down on the small stool, obediently raised her chopsticks, and waited.
Xie Zhi pushed the bowl in front of her, and she lowered her head slightly, eating one bite after another.
Her appetite was better than he had expected. Xie Zhi picked at his noodles with his chopsticks, lazily raising his eyes to watch her.
The tips of her brows and the corners of her eyes were tinged with red, her autumn-water eyes still seeming to hold a shimmer of tears, and several dried tear tracks marked her fair cheeks.
At this moment she hung her head, focused on eating her noodles, her slender neck—thin enough for him to encircle with one hand—bent low, her shoulders frail, her waist narrow.
Such a small, beautiful creature, once high and lofty as a golden branch and jade leaf, now tumbled wholly into the mud.
She could only rely on him.
Xie Zhi watched her face, brought the noodles to his mouth, and swallowed slowly, bite by bite.
Yuan Yingti was completely unaware.
The noodles were so fragrant. As she ate, she pondered how to write the letter to Pei Shuyu.
Getting compensation silver was only a last resort—she still preferred to have Pei Shuyu marry her. An orphan girl like her needed someone to protect her.
How should she phrase it to persuade Pei Shuyu to marry her?
Yuan Yingti was heavy with worries, and even after finishing the whole bowl of noodles, she still hadn't come up with a satisfactory wording. So after the meal and a hasty bath, she shut herself in her room again.
After Xie Zhi finished washing the dishes and saw that there was no sound from her room, he went to the yard to rinse off. Cold well water poured down from overhead, droplets rolling down his firm musculature, washing away the smell of cooking fumes.
He returned to his room, changed into clean white undergarments, and lay down on the narrow wooden bed.
Tonight's moonlight was snow-white and bright, spilling through the cracks in the window lattice, reflected in his half-lowered eyes.
Qing Shao said that those filthy scum outside were all coveting her.
A fortune in gold seemed within easy reach.
But a little lamb like her, if she fell into those people's dirty hands, would be no different from being sent to her death.
The moon shadow moved silently. Xie Zhi's dark gaze fixed on the roof beam, his hands slowly crossing behind his head.
He didn't want to let her die.
Rather than selling her to someone else, it was better to keep her for himself.
He could keep her, make her his woman.