Being harsh—how could that possibly be a good thing?
Isn’t it more pleasing to be smooth-talking and flattering?
The maid gave a cold snort.
“What do you mean?” Cheng Jiao-niang looked up at him and asked.
Duke Jin’an smiled faintly, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the girl in the courtyard lift her head slightly.
“At the time, this person was gravely ill, on the brink of death. Only a few brothers were by his side. The post station wouldn’t take him in and drove him out. With nowhere to go in the wild, under the open sky, a grown man could do nothing but cry out to the heavens in despair. So tell me—how could I possibly help him in such dire straits?” he said unhurriedly.
This sounds… familiar.
The maid was stunned.
What’s that supposed to mean? Ban Qin felt confused, but quickly lowered her head and focused on folding up the bedding and mat.
“See? You’re naturally harsh,” Duke Jin’an said with a smile, switching hands to prop up his chin. “You speak even more harshly to me.”
The maid suddenly understood.
In the morning light of the valley, the young man spread his arms and grinned.
“You saved me too—didn’t that feel great?”
“Saving you once doesn’t count as much. Saving you twice—that’s what feels truly satisfying.”
The girl replied blankly under the morning light as she lifted her hood.
“But your harsh words,” Duke Jin’an smiled faintly, lowering his hand, “to me, they’re a good thing—because they’re saving my life.”
Really?
Ban Qin paused in her movements, looking a bit dazed and surprised.
So Miss actually saved this young man’s life before…
Off to the side, the maid suddenly let out a chuckle.
“Ban Qin?” Ban Qin asked.
“If Sixth Young Master were here, he’d definitely relate to this.” The maid replied with a quiet laugh.
That guy called Bangchui?
Ban Qin grew even more curious.
“You’re broke, and it’s not even something to be proud of. Yet you still act so self-righteous—what’s the point?”
“Even if you’re broke, that doesn’t give you the right to take advantage of others.”
The girl’s expression was blank, even slightly cold, her words leaving the man before her embarrassed and fumbling for a response.
“They have no money. You—give them some.”
That, however, was what she said in the end.
And when she says one thing, who can ever guess what she’ll say next?
The maid looked up toward the window. On top of the wall, the young man was saying something again, his face lit up with a bright smile.
“Who were those people to you?” Duke Jin’an asked again, curiosity in his voice.
Why does this guy have to ask about everything?
Can’t he just find out on his own if he’s that interested?
Acting all innocent for what?
The maid muttered to herself, then ignored him, bent down to pick up a stack of books, and left the room with Ban Qin.
As the two maids walked along the corridor, Cheng Jiao-niang looked up toward the top of the wall.
“They’re my family,” she said.
Duke Jin’an nodded.
“You’ve got quite a few family members,” he remarked, sounding a bit envious. “It must be lively.”
Cheng Jiao-niang gave a small nod.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” she asked.
It was the first time she had initiated a question. Duke Jin’an’s smile grew wider.
“No. It wasn’t easy for me to sneak out—haven’t had a chance to eat yet,” he replied.
“Then come eat with me,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Duke Jin’an grinned, showing his teeth.
“That… I fear it might be inconvenient for you.”
Thank heavens he still knows what might be inconvenient for a lady!
The maid snorted, loudly stacking the books back in place, though her ears stayed perked.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“There’s nothing—and no one—that can inconvenience me,” she said.
A small girl, her expression calm, her voice hoarse and rough. From above, she looked tiny, even frail—
But those words rang out with undeniable strength.
Just like that day when she leaned in close, lifted her hood, and said:
“Saving you once isn’t much. Saving you a second time—that’s satisfying.”
That kind of confidence—so calm, so natural.
Duke Jin’an gave a faint smile.
“But I’m the one for whom it’s inconvenient,” he said, with a hint of apology in his tone. But then, as if something occurred to him, he added, “How about this—you pass the food up to me from here once it’s ready.”
The maid, hearing this, put down the scroll she was holding and glanced at Ban Qin.
“Ban Qin, I’ll handle the cleanup. You go serve that little master over there,” she said.
Ban Qin smiled with her lips pressed together.
“Alright. Then I’ll have to trouble you,” she replied, and sure enough, stood up and walked out.
In a private room at the restaurant, Young Master Qin waved his hand, signaling for everyone in the room to leave. Then he turned to look at Zhou Liu-lang, who was sitting there with his head down.
If it were the old days—whether angry or happy—this boy would’ve already drunk down half a jar of wine by now. But now, he just sat there, head bowed, completely motionless, his whole body exuding a lifeless gloom.
There’s a saying in books: deep feelings can seem like no feelings at all. True heartbreak isn’t always loud or dramatic—it’s silent.
Young Master Qin sighed.
“She was teasing you on purpose. And you actually believed her.”
“She wouldn’t!” Zhou Liu-lang muttered. “She’s ruthless and cold-hearted—kills without blinking an eye.”
“I don’t think so,” Young Master Qin shook his head.
Zhou Liu-lang looked up at him.
“She has compassion,” Young Master Qin said with a slight smile.
“Someone like her has compassion?” Zhou Liu-lang said through gritted teeth.
Young Master Qin nodded.
“It’s easier to see clearly from the outside,” he said, pouring himself a drink. “Just look at how she treated the seven brothers from Maoyuan Mountain.”
Steward Cao had already explained it all—how they encountered the seven brothers from Maoyuan Mountain on the road and how she helped save them.
“That girl is cunning. Who knows what her real motives were when she saved them,” Zhou Liu-lang said.
“Whatever her motives, the fact is—she saved them. Gave them their lives back, turned their luck around. And now, just because of Jin Ge’er, she’s thanking them instead,” Young Master Qin said, taking a sip of wine.
Because of Jin Ge’er… she’s thanking them?
Zhou Liu-lang frowned.
“Right? You couldn’t tell, could you?” Young Master Qin said with a smile. “It might sound far-fetched, but that’s just the kind of person she is. Even the slightest help she receives—however tenuous—she insists on repaying it a hundredfold. That kind of person… is compassionate, sentimental.”
Zhou Liu-lang’s expression turned strange.
Sentimental?
Were they even talking about the same person?
“But whether others understand her or not doesn’t matter—she doesn’t care either. Besides the seven brothers from Maoyuan Mountain, there’s also Ban Qin,” Young Master Qin went on. This time, before Zhou Liu-lang could speak, he continued,
“You’re probably about to say she did it all on purpose, just to make herself look good. That it was all part of some carefully laid plan, just waiting for this day to come, right?”
Zhou Liu-lang gave a snort.
“That’s why the world really is unpredictable,” Young Master Qin said with a smile, sighing a little. “You see the world one way—but is that truly how it is? In others’ eyes, it might look completely different. Impermanence… impermanence. Just the other day, Master Minghai was preaching. He said a Zen master in Southern Prefecture once asked: Is it the wind moving, or the banner? And one man answered—not the wind, not the banner, but the benevolent heart that moves…”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Zhou Liu-lang raised a hand and rubbed his forehead. “Spare me the riddles—I’ve got a headache.”
As he spoke, he picked up the wine bowl in front of him and drained it in one go.
Young Master Qin smiled and said no more, lifting his own cup for a slow sip.
As they stepped out of the restaurant, Zhou Liu-lang’s horse was led over by a stablehand. When he had rushed out earlier, the horse had followed on its own.
Zhou Liu-lang reached out, patted the horse twice, and let out a breath.
“In the end, I still needed you to talk me through it,” he said, turning to look at Young Master Qin with a wry smile. “Clearly, the one who should be hurting the most is you.”
“But I’m not upset at all,” Young Master Qin replied with a smile. “I see hope—how could I be sad? I’m too busy being happy.”
Zhou Liu-lang grunted in acknowledgment.
“If one year isn’t enough, then two. If two doesn’t work, then three, four, five… One day, I’ll move her heart,” he said, gripping the reins tightly.
Young Master Qin nodded with a smile.
“Now that’s Zhou Fu,” he said. “This time, your cousin’s in real trouble. And I think what happened to that cook—what happened to your father—they’re probably connected.”
A cook and a military officer… connected?
Zhou Liu-lang frowned, giving Young Master Qin a thoughtful look.
“Tai Ping Residence!”
They said it at the same time.
