He Siyu's gaze froze, his fingers gripping the doorknob turning white at the knuckles.
Suddenly, Nanny Zhao appeared behind him: "Has the third young master returned?"
The commotion startled those inside. Sang Ning and Grandma He both looked over.
He Siyu pushed the door open and stepped in, his expression stormy.
Grandma He couldn't even be bothered to ask why he was back. She simply said, "You’ve returned just in time. I’ve already asked them to prepare lunch. Help me sort these greeting cards."
"Fine."
Without another word, Grandma He left.
Sang Ning remained standing behind the desk, greeting him politely: "Mr. He."
He Siyu gave her a cold glance. "What are you busy with?"
"Grandma He asked me to write Mid-Autumn Festival greeting cards for her." Sang Ning sat back down, picked up a fresh card, and resumed writing.
He Siyu casually picked up one of the completed cards. The characters were elegant and precise, written in a steady, refined hand.
"You’ve practiced calligraphy? Did that monk teach you that too?" He eyed her skeptically.
She nodded, as dismissive as ever. "Mm."
His expression darkened further, a suffocating frustration rising in his chest.
She knew full well how flimsy that excuse was, yet she still used it to brush him off.
She simply didn’t take him seriously at all.
The words he’d overheard outside—"I don’t have anyone I like"—still weighed heavily on him, growing more irritating the more he thought about them.
Sensing his increasingly oppressive aura, Sang Ning set down her brush and looked up at him. "Is something wrong?"
Her clear, glass-like eyes were calm and unflinching, as if she had nothing to hide—or as if his dark mood meant nothing to her.
He Siyu’s voice was icy. "No one you like?"
Sang Ning blinked. She hadn’t expected him to bring it up.
She nodded. "Mm."
"Is that so? Not even Pei Songhan?"
Sang Ning: "..."
Would he ever let it go?!
Did he have to keep bringing up that humiliating incident?!
Her composed demeanor was beginning to crack. Her fingers clenched around the brush, knuckles whitening, as she glared at him and enunciated each word: "I. Don’t. Like. Him."
He Siyu was momentarily stunned when her furious eyes met his.
Sang Ning averted her gaze and resumed writing, channeling her frustration into the strokes of her brush.
Calligraphy soothed her. Whenever she was upset, she would write to calm her mind and steady her emotions.
The room fell into silence.
It took He Siyu a moment to realize—had she just… glared at him?
This was the first time he’d ever seen her angry.
Her vehement denial suggested she truly didn’t care for Pei Songhan.
But she was always so composed and gentle with everyone. Yet she’d just snapped at him?
His eyes flickered. So he was different, after all.
His previously gloomy mood suddenly lifted.
He glanced down at the greeting cards she’d written, suppressing a faint smile. Her handwriting really was quite beautiful.
Sang Ning wrote three more cards before finally settling her emotions. When she looked up again, she saw He Siyu organizing the finished cards for her.
The man who had stormed in earlier now looked perfectly at ease.
Sang Ning realized He Siyu might be even better at managing his emotions than she was.
"Hm? Finished?" He noticed her gaze and glanced up.
"Not yet. Grandma He said to write twelve."
"Ah. Then take your time." He picked up an inkstick and began grinding ink for her.
The room returned to peaceful silence.
In the dining room, Grandma He was setting the table when Nanny Zhao entered. She lowered her voice eagerly. "Well? How did it go?"
Nanny Zhao whispered, "Nothing much. Miss Sang is still writing the cards, and the third young master is helping grind ink. I didn’t dare get too close, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying."
"Just getting him to stay put is an accomplishment."
Grandma He snorted. "I told you—he definitely likes Sang Ning."
Nanny Zhao hesitated. "But it seems Miss Sang isn’t considering marriage."
Grandma He sighed. "Matters of the heart can’t be forced. We can only let things unfold naturally."
Pushing them together might only create resentment.
"Sang Ning is such a sweet girl. I worry she might not take to Siyu’s unruly temperament." Grandma He’s eyes clouded with concern.
Nanny Zhao countered, "But the third young master is capable and handsome. He’s always been popular with girls."
Grandma He frowned. "Sang Ning isn’t that shallow."
Half an hour later, Sang Ning finished the cards.
Just then, Nanny Zhao called them for lunch.
"Grandma He, what do you think of these?" Sang Ning presented the dried cards.
Grandma He flipped through them and nodded approvingly. "Excellent. Your handwriting is even better than mine. Come, let’s eat."
"Mm."
Sang Ning took her seat at the table, with He Siyu sitting across from her as usual.
Grandma He suddenly brought up, "I wonder if your father will be back for Mid-Autumn this year."
He Siyu replied indifferently, "No idea."
"You could at least call and ask." Grandma He chided.
"If I called, he’d probably have a heart attack."
"..."
Grandma He glanced at Sang Ning, who was quietly eating, then shot He Siyu a glare.
She then remembered something. "Speaking of Mid-Autumn, I’d like to give Sang Ning a gift. I recall leaving a fine Duan inkstone with you. Fetch it and give it to her."
He Siyu had no memory of such a thing—when had Grandma ever left anything with him?
But he didn’t question it. "I’ll go get it now."
Grandma He turned to Sang Ning. "Let him take you home. He can pick it up on the way. This is my heartfelt gift—you must accept it."
Sang Ning nodded. "Thank you, Grandma He."
"Go on, then."
Sang Ning followed He Siyu out.
Grandma He watched from the window as their car drove off, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.
Nanny Zhao ventured, "Shouldn’t you ask the third young master how he feels? Maybe give him some advice."
Grandma He scoffed. "Even if I asked, he’d never admit it. He takes after his father—stubborn to the core."
Nanny Zhao chuckled. "You know him best, madam."
"Of course I do. I raised him, didn’t I?"
As she spoke, Grandma He flipped through the greeting cards again, counting them. Then she paused.
There were only eleven.
One was missing.
---
He Siyu drove away from Wisteria Lane and asked, "Should I take you home?"
Sang Ning shook her head. "Taikoo Li, please. I’m meeting Ji Yan."
He shot her a look. "Your schedule’s busier than a president’s."
Sang Ning either didn’t notice or ignored his sarcasm, smiling instead. "I’m starting my internship at Nan Corporation next week. Ji Yan wants to celebrate."
The sudden brightness of her smile was almost dazzling.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He turned back to the road, his tone stiff. "What’s there to celebrate?"
She was still cheerful. "You wouldn’t understand."
He glanced at her again. The curve of her lips revealed faint dimples, and her sparkling eyes brimmed with anticipation.
The car fell silent—so silent that all he could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat.
