Bai Yaoyao’s excitement gradually gave way to guilt. “Sister, isn’t this too much? How am I supposed to use all of this?”

“Too much? I don’t think so.”

To Bai Qingqing, it was perfectly reasonable. Spending silver she’d earned with her own hands felt nothing short of delightful.

“It is too much! Look, they can barely carry everything!”

Only then did Bai Qingqing relent. At Yaoyao’s urging, they ducked into a teahouse by the street to rest. The teahouse was tucked into a corner, its second floor offering a perfect view of the bustling street below. An awning shielded them from the sun, and the breeze drifting through was cool and pleasant.

Bai Qingqing leaned back in contentment, ordered a pot of tea, and sipped slowly with Yaoyao.

“Sister, I saw some performers over there—I want to go watch!”

Yaoyao, brimming with energy, couldn’t sit still for long. Qingqing gave her a few words of caution and instructed the servant girls to stay close. “Don’t get separated in the crowd. And stay out of the sun.”

Yaoyao agreed readily and dashed downstairs with the maids trailing after her. Bai Qingqing watched her go, full of fondness and envy for her sister’s boundless joy. So carefree, so spirited. She herself could hardly take a few extra steps without growing weary.

But there was beauty in stillness, too. Bai Qingqing sat sipping her tea, savoring the peace.

“Miss Bai?”

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The sound of her name made her turn, faint surprise flickering across her face. “Young Master Pei?”

Pei Lingshu smiled with eyes that curved like crescent moons. “I didn’t expect you’d still remember me, Miss Bai. I’m honored.”

“A man of such talent and grace as Young Master Pei—how could one forget? I just hadn’t expected to meet you here.”

She spoke the truth. Pei Lingshu truly was one of the most exceptional men she’d encountered in both her lifetimes. Had her heart not been shattered so thoroughly in the past—had she not severed herself from all thought of romance—she might very well have been drawn to him.

Pei Lingshu’s smile, his manners, the way he carried himself—all of it was effortlessly pleasant, like a breeze in spring. Since fate had brought them together, Bai Qingqing invited him to join her for a seat.

“You’re not from Xuancheng, are you, Young Master Pei? Visiting relatives, perhaps?”

“In a way. I have a few old friends here I haven’t seen in years. Thought it was time to pay them a visit.”

“And have you found them?”

Pei Lingshu’s smile was faint. “Some, yes. Others… not anymore. That’s life.”

Their conversation meandered, light and casual. Nearby, two children began to play, singing a tune half-unconsciously. Just as they reached the middle of the rhyme, a woman rushed over to hush them. “Didn’t I tell you never to sing that again? Have you forgotten already?”

The children clapped their hands over their mouths in unison, only to burst into giggles a second later as they caught each other’s expressions, completely unfazed.

Pei Lingshu noticed Bai Qingqing’s gaze lingering on the children. After the woman herded them away, he said quietly, “That rhyme was echoing through every alleyway just a while ago. Even the Embroidered Guards got involved—it caused quite the uproar.”

Bai Qingqing returned to herself, her expression dimming. “No one knows where it came from or what it truly wants to say. If there’s real injustice behind it, what kind of pain forces someone to speak only through a rhyme like that? There must be reasons they cannot speak of openly.”

“You… truly think so?”

“I heard the Embroidered Guards still haven’t tracked the source. To pull this off under their very noses, it must’ve been done by someone brilliant. Someone who could excel at anything they chose. But the rhyme itself only draws attention to the unrest in the southwest—nothing more. It’s either the work of someone chasing spectacle, or someone with burdens too heavy to name.”