The afternoon at Su Ji Eatery remained quiet. This was the hour with the fewest customers. Su Mo was in the back kitchen simmering broth, the large bones bubbling and rolling in the pot as the soup gradually turned milky white. She held a long ladle, gently skimming off the foam.
Footsteps sounded from the front hall—light, hesitant. She paid no mind and continued skimming. Only when the footsteps stopped at the serving window did she look up.
It was Lin Wenxuan. He stood there, backlit, his expression unclear. But Su Mo could sense an unusual tension about him.
“Brother Lin?” She set down the ladle and wiped her hands. “Is something the matter?”
Lin Wenxuan didn’t speak. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before shifting away, settling on the pots, pans, and utensils on the stove. He pressed his lips together, his voice slightly hoarse. “Nian He, I have something to say to you.”
Su Mo glanced at the simmering broth on the stove, then back at him, and nodded. “Let’s go to the backyard.”
The two walked one after the other to the backyard. Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the old peach tree in the yard, casting dappled patterns on the ground.
“What is it?” Su Mo stood by the well, looking at him.
Lin Wenxuan looked at her. She wore a slightly worn floral-patterned cloth dress, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing smooth forearms dusted with a few specks of flour. Fine beads of sweat dotted her temples, with stray hairs clinging to her skin. Her eyes were calm and clear.
The chaotic, restless emotions in his heart suddenly settled upon seeing those eyes, transforming into an almost desperate impulse.
“Nian He,” he took a step forward, his voice low but carrying a strange urgency, “I… I will definitely pass the Autumn Imperial Examination and become a Xiucai.”
Su Mo nodded. “Congratulations in advance, Brother Lin.”
“Once I become a Xiucai, I… I will be qualified to propose marriage.” Lin Wenxuan stared into her eyes, as if searching for something. “I know I was mistaken before, saying things I shouldn’t have. But all of that… was for your own good. If you marry me, you’ll be a Xiucai’s wife. I’ll treat you well and give you a good life.”
He spoke quickly, urgently, as if afraid that stopping would cost him his courage. “I know you’re capable now, that you can run the eatery well. But a woman, after all… should regard her husband as her heaven. With me, I can give you respectability and stability. This is your last chance, Nian He. If you miss it, you… you’ll be stuck running this eatery as a cook for the rest of your life.”
His words hung in the air, leaving the backyard in silence. Only the rustle of wind through bamboo leaves and the faint clamor of the distant marketplace could be heard.
Su Mo looked at him quietly, for a long time. Then, she smiled faintly.
The smile was light, serene, yet sharp as a blade, effortlessly slicing through Lin Wenxuan’s self-righteous, condescending “kindness.” “Brother Lin,” she began, her voice soft yet each word striking Lin Wenxuan’s heart with clarity, “thank you for your ‘kindness.’ But I’ve said it before—I won’t marry a Xiucai, nor will I become a Xiucai’s wife. My path, I’ll walk it myself. This eatery is my parents’ hard work, and now it’s mine. I’ll run it well, expand it, and make it the best eatery in Linshui County. That is the life I want, the respectability and stability I seek.”
She paused, looking at Lin Wenxuan's instantly pale face, and spoke each word deliberately: "So, Brother Lin, I appreciate your proposal of marriage. But I don't need it. You walk your broad road, and I'll cross my single-plank bridge. We owe each other nothing. Let's each go our own way in peace."
Lin Wenxuan stood frozen on the spot as if struck by lightning. He stared at Su Mo, at those calm yet resolute eyes, at the faint but unbearably piercing smile on her face. All his pride, all his self-righteous "charity" and "opportunity," had become laughable and pitiful wishful thinking in the face of her words.
Shame, humiliation, anger… these emotions instantly overwhelmed his reason. The color drained from his face, then surged back in a flush. His lips trembled as his voice rose sharply, laced with biting sarcasm: "Fine! What a fine 'each go our own way in peace'! Su Nianhe, don't you regret this! Do you think this shabby little eatery will get you anywhere? When you're old and faded, see who'll want you then! By that time, even if you beg to be my concubine, I won't spare you a second glance!"
The words were vicious, almost beneath the dignity of a scholar. Su Mo's expression turned cold as well, and she was about to speak when a faint, suppressed gasp came from the backyard entrance.
Both turned their heads simultaneously.
Zhang Qiaoyun stood at the backyard door, still holding an exquisite food box in her hand. Her face had lost all color, her lips trembled, and her eyes were wide with disbelief as she looked from Lin Wenxuan to Su Mo. Clearly, she had heard every word.
Lin Wenxuan looked as if struck by lightning again. The anger and malice on his face froze instantly, replaced by a flustered, helpless pallor. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no sound came out.
Zhang Qiaoyun stared at him, at the lingering ferocity on his face, at the panic in his eyes. She recalled her father's gentle smile earlier that day when he said, "Young Master Lin is exceptionally talented and has a promising future." She remembered the secret, bashful flutterings of her heart these past few days… It all felt like an absurd joke.
Tears welled up without warning, blurring her vision. She whirled around abruptly. The food box clattered to the ground, its delicate pastries scattering everywhere. Without a glance, she gathered her skirts and stumbled out in a run.
"Miss Zhang!" Lin Wenxuan instinctively took two steps after her, then stopped abruptly. He turned back and looked at Su Mo.
Su Mo stood ramrod straight, her expression unreadable, only staring coldly at him.
That gaze was more piercing than any words. Lin Wenxuan could stay no longer. He turned in a panic and fled as well.
The backyard fell silent in an instant. Only the wind blew through, swirling up fallen leaves before letting them settle again.
Su Mo slowly walked over to the scattered pastries, crouched down, and picked one up. It was an exquisite lotus flower pastry, delicately made with distinct, flaky layers. Now it was shattered, revealing the dark red bean paste filling inside.
She looked at it for a long time, then sighed softly. Gathering the broken pastry along with the food box, she placed them neatly in the corner.