Chapter 77: The Kitten (4)

After he spoke, Shen Xiqing glanced at him briefly before hesitating and finally stepping into the pavilion.

Qi Ying gestured to a seat near the railing. “Sit.”

Shen Xiqing lowered her head slightly, thanked him, and took a seat neither too close nor too far from him. Then she heard him ask, “Why did you stand outside earlier?”

She pursed her lips, remaining silent for a moment before replying, “I heard that Master Qi had established a rule—Wangyuan Garden is off-limits…”

Qi Ying chuckled lightly, neither confirming nor denying, which only deepened Shen Xiqing’s curiosity. She still believed the rule was genuine, but after glancing around, she found nothing unusual about this place—it was merely a charming little garden.

After some thought, she ventured to ask, “Is there… something different about this place?”

At that moment, Snowball yawned on Qi Ying’s lap, its sapphire-blue eyes half-closed as if about to fall asleep. Qi Ying continued stroking its fur while calmly responding, “There’s nothing different. I simply dislike noise, so I’ve never allowed anyone inside.”

Shen Xiqing was startled, then felt a soft pang in her heart.

She rarely heard Qi Ying speak of his preferences, yet now he clearly stated, “I dislike noise.”

It wasn’t a grand revelation, but it stirred something within her.

She suddenly understood him a little better—he was someone who appeared at ease in any situation but was, in truth, deeply weary. Perhaps he endured countless arguments and debates daily, making silence all the more precious when alone.

Realizing this, she felt out of place, as though intruding upon his last sanctuary of peace. Anxiously, she rose to her feet and said, “Then I’ll leave now. I…”

Before her apology could leave her lips, Qi Ying’s gaze softened as he looked at her, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

He said, “You’re fine. You’re not noisy.”

Ripples of profound emotion spread through her like waves.

Suddenly, Shen Xiqing didn’t know what to say. That indescribable feeling—neither joy nor sorrow—welled up within her once more. She sat silently, lost in the sensation, momentarily speechless.

“Sit,” Qi Ying added, his attention returning to Snowball. “Tell me about your shop.”

Initially, Shen Xiqing hadn’t intended to discuss the fabric shop with Qi Ying. First, their relationship had grown distant lately, and second, she felt he already bore enough burdens. Though the shop was of immense importance to her, it seemed trivial compared to his responsibilities. She didn’t want to trouble him further or appear immature.

However, since the shop was his gift to her, she couldn’t be certain whether his inquiry carried an implicit test of her abilities. Thus, she reluctantly obeyed, sitting down again and carefully replied, “…Things aren’t going very smoothly.”

He didn’t seem surprised, perhaps already aware of the situation through Mr. Ding. He simply asked, “Is it the issue of surplus fabric?”

Shen Xiqing was taken aback by how much he knew, leaving her momentarily stunned. She nodded, meeting his gaze.

Her bewildered expression amused him, a faint smile flickering across his face. His phoenix-like eyes sparkled beautifully, momentarily captivating her. She heard him say, “The strategy of reducing prices isn’t wrong. Your pricing decisions were appropriate, but they lacked a bit of finesse.”

Snapping out of her daze, Shen Xiqing frowned, puzzled. “Finesse?”

Qi Ying glanced at her, pondering for a moment. “Two coins for one skewer of candied haws, three coins for two skewers, seven coins for five skewers. If it were you, which would you choose?”

His sudden question seemed unrelated, leaving Shen Xiqing confused. Still, she followed his lead, thinking carefully before answering, “If it were me, I’d choose three coins for two skewers.”

Qi Ying nodded. “Why?”

She hesitated, then explained, “Two coins for one skewer is too expensive, not worth it. Seven coins for five skewers is the most economical, but buying five skewers is too much—I wouldn’t finish them, and the total cost of seven coins would make me hesitate.”

Qi Ying nodded again. “And if there were no seven coins for five skewers, only two coins for one skewer and three coins for two skewers?”

Shen Xiqing paused, deep in thought, then her eyes lit up with understanding.

When people only have the options of two coins for one skewer or three coins for two skewers, even if they recognize the latter is more economical, they might hesitate when paying. A transaction’s success often hinges on fleeting thoughts. If they waver, the likelihood of purchasing decreases. However, introducing the option of seven coins for five skewers makes three coins for two skewers seem both economical and convenient by comparison.

Vendors selling candied haws never intended to sell many at seven coins for five skewers—it’s merely a decoy. Their real goal is to guide customers toward choosing three coins for two skewers.

A small difference can create vastly different perceptions and influence decisions.

Seeing the sparkle in the young girl’s eyes, Qi Ying knew she had grasped the underlying principle. With admiration in his gaze, he advised, “All worldly matters, though seemingly diverse, ultimately revolve around human hearts. Commerce may be complex, but its essence lies here. To succeed, you must learn to understand this. If others struggle to make decisions beneficial to you, help guide them subtly.”

His words were simple yet profoundly enlightening, leaving Shen Xiqing exhilarated. Ideas flooded her mind, and she wished dawn would break immediately so she could implement them in Jiankang’s bustling markets, breathing new life into her struggling fabric shop.

Noticing her excitement, Qi Ying chuckled softly and shook his head. “As for Manager Lu, what are your thoughts?”

At the mention of the manager, Shen Xiqing’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly.

The issue of Manager Lu embezzling funds was another complication. The amount wasn’t large, yet it pricked at Shen Xiqing’s conscience, unsettling her. However, Manager Lu had managed the shop for over a decade, proving highly competent. He maintained good relations with the staff and other managers, making operations smoother. Replacing him posed a challenge, leaving her troubled.

Qi Ying noticed her dilemma but refrained from pressing. Instead, he remarked lightly, “No man is without fault; this is a truth you should understand. When dealing with others, the key is setting boundaries, letting them know their limits. Manager Lu has years of experience and strengths. Your task is to make him aware of your tolerance threshold. If he knows when to step back, there’s room for compromise…”

Shen Xiqing listened quietly.

He guided her patiently, offering no explicit instructions but imparting valuable lessons on human interactions. Some points resonated with her, while others remained unclear. Yet she felt numerous gaps within her being filled.

These were lessons her late parents hadn’t had time to teach her, now imparted by this man.

She felt a mix of joy and sorrow, watching him speak. Her mind drifted to the flower-viewing gathering, recalling his conversation with Princess Liu.

That day, she had chased after him impulsively, unsure why. She had no particular message to convey—she simply felt compelled to see him, especially after encountering the princess. Her heart burned with discomfort, gripped by panic and an inexplicable ache.

Seeing him eased her pain.

Later, she found him in the garden with the princess. Hiding behind the foliage, she overheard every word.

He said, “What is Her Highness thinking? She’s just a child—where does this notion of romance come from?”

He said, “It’s true.”

He said, “When she grows up, naturally she will leave.”

Previously, Shen Xiqing couldn’t define her feelings for Qi Ying. Sometimes he felt like a father or brother figure, but occasionally something felt different—though she couldn’t articulate what.

After the incident at the main estate, clarity emerged—Madam Qi was right. She harbored inappropriate desires for him.

When did it begin?

Perhaps when he told her, “Eat well—you’re too thin,” before leaving Jiankang. Or when he handed her the beautiful fox lantern during the Lantern Festival. Or when he first called her “Wenwen.”

Or maybe even earlier—from the moment she first saw him.

He stepped out of the carriage amidst a rare snowstorm in Jiankang. In his eyes, she saw her reflection—a vastness and compassion she’d never encountered. He carried her horizontally in the forest, draping his coat over her. Surrounded by his presence, she found fleeting respite from ceaseless suffering.

Once displaced and adrift, he offered her a haven from the storm.

She knew she shouldn’t entertain such foolish notions, yet falling for him felt effortless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop—it only fueled her efforts to conceal her feelings.

She thought this arrangement was ideal—quietly staying by his side, stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, lowering her head when he turned toward her, pretending nothing existed between them.

Living this way forever would suffice.

But it was impossible.

The flower-viewing gathering revealed his position and the people around him. Princess Liu, noble-born and radiant, could openly declare her affection, unafraid of scrutiny. In contrast, Shen Xiqing felt acutely inferior—an orphan borrowing another’s name, possessing nothing. Yet she dared harbor secret feelings for him.

Even she felt unworthy.

He said, “When she grows up, naturally she will leave.” Realizing she couldn’t remain by his side indefinitely, she understood he awaited that day.

This was normal—they shared no familial ties. At best, she was an unexpected burden he graciously bore temporarily. There was no reason for him to care for her indefinitely.

Yet hearing those words that day broke her heart.

She cried alone in her room for hours, avoiding him ever since.

She wasn’t sulking—she was simply… afraid. Afraid that seeing him would remind her of his conversation with the princess. Afraid that prolonged interaction would deepen her inappropriate feelings. Afraid of liking him more each day and hearing him say, “You can leave now.”

She feared the dreams inspired by him shattering instantly, leaving her once again aware of her rootless existence.

Her interest in the fabric shop initially stemmed from genuine enthusiasm but now served as her lifeline. Immersed in its affairs, she temporarily shelved her fears. She yearned to grow up quickly, to possess something truly hers, hoping it would alleviate her loneliness and sorrow.

Meanwhile, Qi Ying continued speaking. Glancing up, he noticed the girl’s somber expression, lost in thought.

He paused. “Wenwen?”

Shen Xiqing snapped out of her reverie, meeting his gaze briefly before her heart tightened, prompting her to lower her head again.

Qi Ying observed her fidgeting fingers, sensing she was still caught in some peculiar mood. Feeling somewhat helpless, he fell silent for a moment, gazing at the kitten on his lap. “You named it Snowball?”

Startled by the abrupt change in topic, Shen Xiqing hesitated before nodding, her cheeks flushing slightly. “For now… just temporarily…”

“Why temporarily?” Qi Ying asked with a smile. “Do you plan to rename it?”

Shen Xiqing bit her lip, her fingers tightening. After a brief silence, she steeled herself. “No… I just think… I’m probably not suited to keep it. It’s better… to return it to Master Qi.”

Though hesitant, her refusal was clear. Qi Ying’s smile faded as he looked at her. “You don’t like it?”

Shen Xiqing shook her head quickly. “It’s not that…”

With a calm demeanor, Qi Ying asked, “Then why not keep it?”

Shen Xiqing blinked, opening her mouth as if to speak but ultimately remaining silent.

Qi Ying sighed, feeling increasingly exasperated.

The girl was too reserved, and their growing distance made communication challenging. Just as he considered probing further, the clouds dispersed, illuminating the scene with bright moonlight. At that moment, Shen Xiqing raised her head, and their eyes met.

An ineffable instant.

The moonlight, gentle and luminous, illuminated every emotion in the girl’s eyes, revealing all she had carefully concealed. Familiar traces of coquettishness and attachment mingled with unfamiliar, heavy emotions—complex, indescribable, evoking both joy and sorrow.

In that fleeting moment, Qi Ying became acutely aware:

…She loved him.

It was the purest, most unspoken sentiment of a young girl—clearer than the moonlight, more poignant than the lotus-filled pond. Yet beneath it lay something deeper and heavier than mere infatuation, subtly entwined with restraint and bitterness in her gaze.

His heart trembled violently.

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

“Some believe love is sex, marriage, morning kisses,

and children.

Perhaps it is, Miss Lester.

But do you know what I think?

Love is the hand that wants to touch but pulls back.”

—J.D. Salinger

Next update: Final chapter of Volume Two.