Chapter 109: Thunderstorm (1)

After returning to Woyu Courtyard, Shen Xiling dismissed everyone from her room and cried alone under the covers.

Shuipei and the others had been overjoyed, thinking that their young mistress had undergone the hair-pinning ceremony today, and Master Qi had finally returned to Fenghe Garden—it should have been a day of great joy. Who could have anticipated that in the blink of an eye, their young mistress would return alone from the garden with tears streaming down her face, looking extremely sorrowful?

She ordered them all to leave, crying alone in her room. Her sobs were low, like the mournful whimpers of someone deeply heartbroken. They had served her for three years and had never seen her cry, not even when she was bullied by Miss Zhao or scolded by Grandmother Qi back at the main house. The maids had never witnessed such a scene before and naturally panicked, scrambling about in distress.

Shuipei thought this wasn’t a solution and was about to turn and find Qingzhu. But as she turned around, she saw Master Qi himself approaching, clad in his official robes, exuding an imposing presence. His brows were furrowed, and his expression was grim, making him appear quite intimidating.

The maids didn’t know what was going on and could only murmur their greetings to Master Qi.

He didn’t bother with them but stood at their young mistress’s door for a moment. Soon after, he heard faint sobs coming from inside the room, and his expression grew even darker. Shuipei noticed a flicker of… sadness in his eyes.

But that emotion passed quickly, and he soon regained his usual impassive demeanor. Standing at the door, he called softly, “Wenwen?”

The sobbing inside paused briefly, then turned into suppressed sniffles. It seemed the person inside was trying hard to stifle her cries, but the sounds still betrayed her distress.

Shuipei felt Master Qi’s expression grow more complex.

On the other side of the door, Shen Xiling also heard Qi Yin’s voice. But at that moment, she was crying so hard that she couldn’t respond immediately. Moreover, she didn’t want to answer him, so she remained silent.

Qi Yin probably realized she didn’t want to speak, so he didn’t call out again. He stood silently outside the door for a while, then said through the door, “I have some official duties to attend to today, so I must leave. I’ll return in a few days, and if you’re willing… we can talk then.”

What Qi Yin said was true.

With the Spring Examination approaching, he had countless tasks to handle. Not only did he need to oversee confidential matters at the Privy Council, but he also had to consult with the scholars of the Hanlin Academy on various details of the exam. Although his recent absence from Fenghe Garden was partly to avoid Shen Xiling, his busyness was undeniable.

However, to Shen Xiling, his words carried an entirely different meaning.

She thought Qi Yin was avoiding her, that he truly disliked her so much that he wouldn’t even return to Fenghe Garden. Even when forced to come back, he left immediately, unwilling to stay a moment longer.

Why did he have to avoid her like the plague…? Was he afraid she would cling to him?

Shen Xiling smiled bitterly and indifferently, remaining silent.

Qi Yin stood outside the door for a little longer, but there was no response from inside. He knew Shen Xiling had no intention of replying.

She was crying…

Qi Yin took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to enter and comfort her. With great difficulty, he turned and walked away from her door. But just as he reached the entrance of Woyu Courtyard, he stopped, turned around, and called Shuipei over.

Shuipei approached Master Qi with trepidation. She didn’t know what had transpired between him and their young mistress, nor did she understand why he had summoned her now. After waiting in silence for a while, she couldn’t help but timidly ask, “…Master?”

Her voice seemed to bring him back to reality. His gaze lowered, tinged with a shadow of darkness.

Shuipei dared not look further and quickly bowed her head. She then heard him sigh softly and say, “Take good care of her. Especially today, when her mood is low. Remember to coax her into eating.”

Shuipei obediently acknowledged his instructions, then heard him pause thoughtfully before adding, “If anything happens… come find me at the office.”

Shuipei was startled. She recalled that the last time their young mistress visited Master Qi at the Privy Council, he had explicitly told her not to come again. Afterward, he even had Qingzhu reprimand the servants, instructing them not to encourage the young mistress to act recklessly. Why was he saying this now…?

But she didn’t dare ask. Bowing her head again, she watched as Master Qi hurriedly turned and left, soon disappearing from the courtyard.

As always, he appeared colder and more distant than ever.

After receiving Master Qi’s instructions, Shuipei felt a weight settle in her heart. She began to worry about how their young mistress would manage lunch today.

She asked Zijun to prepare the dishes their young mistress usually liked in the small kitchen. As it was nearing noon, she reluctantly knocked on the young mistress’s door and tentatively asked, “Young Mistress? Zijun has prepared lunch. Shall I bring it in for you to eat…?”

Her tone was hesitant. After all, even a blind person could see that something significant had happened between the young mistress and Master Qi today. Their young mistress had cried so bitterly—how could she possibly eat properly…?

Sure enough, after a short while, Shuipei heard the slightly hoarse voice of her young mistress from inside: “Thank you, sisters. I’ll come out to the small reception hall shortly to eat.”

With that, there was no further sound.

Shuipei didn’t know what else to say. Behind her, Fengchang and Zijun exchanged glances, neither knowing what to say either. Both shrank behind her, too nervous to speak.

Shuipei had no choice but to refrain from breaking down the door and dragging the young mistress out. Instead, she said, “Alright, then we’ll keep the food warm on the stove until you’re ready to eat.”

Inside the room, there was still no response.

The maids exchanged helpless glances, sighed collectively, and quietly dispersed.

Inside the room, Shen Xiling had actually stopped crying.

She sat curled up in the corner of the bed, hugging her knees against the wall. Aside from her still-red and swollen eyes and slightly disheveled hair, she appeared otherwise fine.

In her hand, she held the small box she cherished, the one containing the grasshopper and rabbit he had made for her. But she didn’t open it, just loosely gripped it without looking at it, seemingly lost in thought.

Her first thoughts, of course, were of Qi Yin.

She didn’t resent him. After all, he had been extraordinarily kind to her. What person would treat a stranger they met by chance with such care? Without him, she would have died long ago. She understood this truth. What she resented was herself for foolishly mistaking his kindness and warmth for romantic love. How naive. A compassionate person like him would have surely extended a helping hand to anyone he encountered back then, not just her.

That was just who he was—seemingly cold, yet deeply compassionate.

Later, she thought about marriage.

Her notions of marriage were entirely derived from her parents. Their tenderness and affection for each other had always been something she admired. She knew how her parents cherished and respected one another. Without such feelings, how could she live under the same roof with a stranger every day?

The person she loved didn’t love her back. It didn’t matter; she had already anticipated this scenario. Though it hurt far more than she had imagined, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. She could grit her teeth and endure this pain, never mentioning it to anyone again. Time was a powerful thing—eventually, everything would fade. Her love for him would diminish, and her wounds would heal. Nothing was insurmountable. Besides, she had only spent three years by his side. If she used thirty years—ten times as long—to fill that void, perhaps she could forget him.

She would rather spend her life alone than marry someone she didn’t love. Qi Yin was reasonable. If she insisted on refusing, he likely wouldn’t force her.

Upon closer reflection, perhaps Qi Yin didn’t really want her to marry. Maybe he just thought that if she didn’t marry, she would remain by his side, which would be troublesome for him. Thus, he wanted to use marriage as a way to let her leave gracefully. In that case, as long as she left, he probably wouldn’t persist in arranging a marriage for her, right?

Shen Xiling pursed her lips and curled herself even smaller, resting her head on her knees, continuing to drift off into thought.

Yes, it was indeed time for her to leave.

Today, Third Brother Qi Ning had told her that if she married him, Qi Yin would give her a generous dowry. So… if she didn’t marry and simply left on her own, could he forego the dowry and instead give her a shop? It didn’t need to be particularly large or fancy—just somewhere she could go. Perhaps she could try discussing it with him, asking if she could take some of the money she had earned over the past few years. That would be ideal—if he agreed, it would be wonderful.

As for where to go after leaving Fenghe Garden, Shen Xiling had already made some plans.

She could leave Jiankang for a while. After some time, when she wasn’t as heartbroken, she could return. After all, her parents’ graves were here, and it wouldn’t be right to stay away forever. Upon returning, she could rent a small house temporarily. Once her business improved, she could buy a small courtyard to settle down permanently. That would be more stable.

The only thing she hadn’t figured out yet was the issue of people.

She didn’t know if she would ever see him again after leaving—would she never see him again for the rest of her life? Or could she visit during festivals? And what about Shuipei and the others? After three years together, they had grown very close. She secretly considered them family and found it hard to part with them. But they belonged to Fenghe Garden—how could they follow her around? Besides, she wouldn’t have much money at first and couldn’t afford to pay them the same generous monthly allowance they received here. How would they support their families…?

And Madam Yao… she was also reluctant to part with her. Though they weren’t particularly close, the lady had once protected and cared for her. Today, she had personally conducted her hair-pinning ceremony, and Shen Xiling had quietly regarded her as a maternal figure. Before leaving, could she visit her at the main house? If not, the flower festival would be in early March—they would surely come to Fenghe Garden then. If she could stay until then, perhaps she could see her one last time…

Shen Xiling was carefully considering these thoughts when suddenly she heard a series of meows. Looking up, she saw Snowflake running toward her.

It had been sleeping in its little nest and must have woken up earlier. Now full of energy, it jumped onto her bed to play with her. Seeing this, she picked it up and began to play with it, gently stroking its little belly. The kitten was incredibly comfortable, purring contentedly.