The room was filled with the delicate fragrance of tea.
"Banruo, there’s no need to be nervous," Nan Nianyi reassured in a steady voice. "The manor is heavily guarded. Lin Qingyang won’t be able to get in."
Nan Banruo adjusted her sleeves, holding a tea spoon, a faint smile playing on her lips as she glanced at Nan Nianyi.
She replied calmly, "I’m not nervous at all."
Nan Nianyi silently looked down at his teacup—she had scooped all the frothy tea bubbles into his cup, yet she still claimed she wasn’t tense.
Tianshu chimed in gently, "This Lin Qingyang, I don’t know what’s going through his mind. Banruo is already in our hands, and he still thinks he can take her back?"
Nan Banruo: "..."
That was technically true, but the way her mother spoke made her sound like an outright kidnapper.
Time trickled by.
The tea boiled and reboiled.
The steward came in for the second time to report, his expression slightly uneasy—Lin Qingyang had been standing outside, his demeanor casual and his words soft-spoken, yet there was something unsettling about him.
Suppressing his discomfort, the steward relayed, "Lin Qingyang said the young lady promised him she would return."
Nan Banruo’s breath hitched slightly.
She was about to explain to her parents that her promise to Lin Qingyang had only been a temporary measure when Nan Jihe burst into laughter. "Close the gates! No matter how much he barks, ignore him!"
The steward nodded. "Understood."
Nan Banruo watched as the steward left, her gaze drifting to the dark night outside as she lost herself in thought.
The tea continued to simmer on the stove.
After a long silence, Nan Nianyi picked up his cup and took a large sip of the thick froth.
With his mouth full of tea bubbles, he said, "Banruo, don’t worry. Father, Mother, and I will stay here with you."
Nan Banruo nodded obediently, her smile bright. "Mm!"
The spring tea bubbled vigorously, as if mirroring the restless emotions in the room, which had fallen into a heavy silence.
The steward never returned after leaving.
The manor remained under strict guard, the restraining spells silent and undisturbed. Lin Qingyang neither sent another message nor forced his way in.
The boiling tea gradually cooled.
"Oh," Nan Banruo suddenly remembered something. "What about the gift boxes he sent? Could there be anything suspicious about them?"
Nan Nianyi smirked coldly. "We already had them thrown out."
"Good."
Outside the manor.
The two large gates slowly closed. Through the narrowing gap, the steward saw Lin Qingyang standing motionless in the same spot.
The red gift boxes that had been discarded earlier in the day lay scattered at his feet. The gold, silver, jewels, and fine silks inside had been picked up by bold passersby, leaving only a mess of broken, empty crates behind.
His gifts—and he himself—had been cast aside like worthless trash.
At a glance, his slender figure seemed indescribably forlorn.
The steward shook his head and ordered the servants to add three more locks to the gates.
Nan Banruo had barely lain down when rain began to fall outside.
At first, it was just a drizzle of silvery threads, but soon, the downpour grew heavy, battering the leaves of the acacia trees in the courtyard with loud pattering sounds.
The sound of rain should have made it easier to sleep.
Tianshu lay stiffly on the outer side of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers bristling with hidden weapons.
Nan Jihe and Nan Nianyi sat by the window, their weapons within easy reach.
A damp chill permeated the air.
Before long, a scout appeared at the window to report, "Master, he’s still there."
Nan Jihe gave a low hum, his eyes briefly closing before opening again. He exchanged a glance with his son, and Nan Nianyi stood to leave—he would gather news outside to avoid disturbing Banruo’s rest with constant comings and goings.
Lin Qingyang was their problem to handle.
Lightning flashed across the window frames, followed by thunder that rumbled over the rooftops. The noise was so loud it was impossible to tell whether tiles were falling or if it was just the sound of the torrential rain.
"BOOM—!!!"
The flickering lightning illuminated the swaying shadows of the trees in the courtyard, making them look like ghostly figures.
Nan Banruo jolted awake.
Half-asleep, she saw a vision—Lin Qingyang, drenched from the storm, moving like a ghost. One moment he was across the street, and the next, after another flash of lightning, he stood right before her family’s gates.
She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide, her body drenched in cold sweat.
"Banruo? What’s wrong?"
Dazed, Nan Banruo turned to her mother, panting. "...Has Lin Qingyang left yet?"
Tianshu reached out to pat her hand reassuringly—nearly pricking her with a handful of poison needles in the process.
"..." Without a hint of embarrassment, Tianshu flicked her fingers, and the needles vanished as if they had never been there. She rose from the bed. "I’ll go check."
A moment later, Tianshu’s smiling face reappeared at the edge of the bed canopy. "He left half an hour ago. Go back to sleep."
Nan Banruo nodded slowly.
The second half of the night was restless, with Nan Banruo waking repeatedly.
She wanted to get up but didn’t want to worry her parents.
By dawn, everyone had dark circles under their eyes.
After washing up, she couldn’t help but wander around the house, touching the pillars, fiddling with the curtains, and making the carved window frames creak.
She was really back, safe and sound after a full night.
And that man had done nothing.
"Lin Qingyang left in the middle of the night?" she asked again through the window, her smile bright as she sought confirmation.
Nan Nianyi nodded. "The rain was heavy in the early hours, so he returned to the Dongjun Manor. Our people followed him the whole way. Don’t worry—there’s no trick."
Nan Banruo beamed and nodded emphatically. "Got it."
Seventh Fairy was far more blunt. "A little rain like that wouldn’t even make me sick! Don’t you dare feel sorry for him, miss. He’s just playing the victim! Oh—right, right! The lotus roots you brought back yesterday are still with me!"
"What lotus roots?" Nan Nianyi’s eyes sharpened with suspicion.
Nan Banruo remembered the bundle of lotus roots she had carried. Seventh Fairy had taken them from her when helping her inside.
She said, "They were Lin Qingyang’s."
Nan Nianyi’s expression darkened as he recalled the tradition of picking lotus roots. His lips pressed into a thin line.
He didn’t speak, only watched Nan Banruo quietly, waiting to see how she would handle it.
Without hesitation, Nan Banruo said, "Throw them away."
A smile tugged at Nan Nianyi’s lips. Feigning disgust, he scolded Seventh Fairy lightly, "You heard her. Toss them. What kind of filthy things are you bringing into the manor?"
Seventh Fairy grumbled as she walked away, "The roots were perfectly fine, fresh and all."
Nan Banruo knew they were good roots.
The sprouts were crisp and tender. Sticky rice-stuffed lotus root was soft and fragrant. They could be stir-fried with pork, stewed with ribs, or served raw in salads.
It was just a shame the person who gave them wasn’t good, tainting even the innocent roots.
Lunch consisted of pumpkin porridge with several side dishes.
The Nan family’s meals were akin to imperial cuisine—nourishing, light, and refined.
Nan Nianyi remarked, "If those lotus roots hadn’t been thrown out, they would’ve made a good soup. Mother could’ve checked if they were poisoned."
"Too late now," Nan Banruo wrinkled her nose at him. "Hindsight is always perfect."
Nan Nianyi pretended to roll up his sleeves as if to scold her.
Nan Banruo wasn’t afraid. She clung to Tianshu’s arm and grinned. "Mother, he’s bullying me! Poke him with your needles!"
Tianshu: "..."
Amid the laughter, the steward hurried in and stood to the side, waiting to speak.
Noticing that someone had news to report, Nan Jihe glanced at his daughter, who sat upright, eager to listen. He said, "Go ahead."
"Yes," the steward bowed slightly. "Lin Qingyang sent word. He said he personally prepared a lotus root banquet—her favorite—including lotus root cakes and lotus root starch. He will come to fetch her at dusk."
After a brief silence, Nan Jihe replied, "Understood. You may go."
"Yes."
All three pairs of eyes turned to Nan Banruo.
She kept her head down, meticulously picking out the fine fibers from her pumpkin porridge with her chopsticks.
Nan Jihe reached over and patted his daughter’s shoulder reassuringly. "Let him stir up trouble. Just ignore him!"
"Could this be a softening tactic, retreating to advance?" Tianshu frowned irritably. "Trying to make Banruo feel guilty? She’s kind-hearted—don’t fall for it."
Nan Banruo lifted her face from her bowl, grinning. "Though I’m lovely, my heart is made of stone."
The three of them couldn’t help but chuckle.
She buried her head in her porridge again.
Of course, she wouldn’t pity Lin Qingyang. Yet, a faint unease lingered in her chest.
She knew that man too well—he was no saint.
Afternoon.
"What’s got you so lost in thought?"
Nan Nianyi curled his index finger and tapped Nan Banruo’s shoulder lightly, snapping her out of her reverie.
Last time, he had accidentally rested his palm on her shoulder while calling her, startling her—the look in her eyes when she turned had sent a jolt of shock and fury through him.
"Brother," Nan Banruo tilted her head at him. "I was thinking about that masked man."
"Don’t worry. Father has stationed heavy guards in the estate—enough to fend off two Lin Qingyangs if they attack." Nan Nianyi sat across from her. "Thinking back, that masked man in the Forbidden Zone, though immensely powerful, seemed somewhat..."
He searched for the right words. "Clumsy. Slow."
Nan Banruo repeated slowly, "Clumsy. Slow. Clumsy. Slow."
No.
She combed through her memories of her past life—Lin Qingyang had never had such a fighter under his command.
Who was this person?
Nan Nianyi recalled the details for her. "He never spoke a word, nor used any distinct techniques. He focused on defense, only striking back when attacked."
Nan Banruo mused, "I see."
The masked man’s sheer strength and the Eastern Emperor’s enchanted robe he wore made him an impregnable fortress. No wonder they couldn’t break through.
A vague flicker of insight teased the edges of her mind.
Unrelated to her past life—had she overlooked something in this one?
...It slipped away.
The family of four dined in silence.
The moment they set down their chopsticks, Lin Qingyang’s message arrived.
"We agreed—after dining with your parents, you’d come out. I’ll be waiting outside."
Nan Banruo could perfectly picture Lin Qingyang saying these words—arriving punctually to fetch her, his smile gentle, his eyes sincere, as if yesterday’s broken promise had never happened.
Nan Nianyi frowned. "Coming every day? Surely Lin Qingyang isn’t naive enough to think this will win Banruo back?"
Nan Jihe sneered. "He can’t breach our defenses. We’ll hold our ground and see what tricks he has up his sleeve!"
As dusk drew nearer, Nan Banruo’s unease deepened, shadows thickening around her.
The hourglass whispered.
The entire Nan estate seemed to hold its breath.
Lin Qingyang finally moved.
He glanced at the darkening sky and stepped forward, crushing the scattered gift boxes underfoot.
Pausing, he looked down.
A slender, tender lotus root lay trampled in the mud—pale, fragile, pitiful.
He bent to pick it up, wiping it clean with his sleeve.
Another step, another lotus root.
By the time he reached the Nan estate’s steps, he cradled an armful of them. Some had been crushed beyond repair, no matter how carefully he cleaned them.
He lifted his gaze.
A smile graced his lips, but his eyes were ice.
He ascended the steps in a flash and knocked.
Thud. Thud-thud. Thud. Thud-thud.
Amid the polite rapping, soft, low laughter seeped through.
"Those who betray sincerity..."
"...shall choke on thorns and writhe in hell."
