Jiang Da shook his head, "Donât let your thoughts run wild. Without the ladyâs word, who can confirm that you are the masterâs trueborn daughter? Even if you were to speak out, who would believe you?"
Daman bowed her head, her arms wrapped around herself, "Uncle Jiang is a kind man, Daman knows. But I truly canât give you the recipe of the Golden Boudoir Guest. Shiâer Niang would flay me..."
Jiang Da saw her stubbornness and his eyes grew fierce again.
"With such a stubborn nature, youâre going to suffer greatly. Youâre not afraid of suffering, but donât you fear for your motherâs pain? Her condition, her wishes, do you truly not care about them..."
Daman cried silently, her head lowered, wishing she could curl up and hide in her stray dogâs den, where even living a life dependent on her mother would be better.
Jiang Da extended his hand again.
"Hand it over! Donât make me repeat myself."
Daman sniffled, slowly reached into her bosom, and through her tears, handed over the folded yellow paper to Jiang Da.
"Uncle Jiang, please be quick. We must not let Shiâer Niang discover this."
Jiang Da breathed a sigh of relief, "Just wait. I wonât make things difficult for you. But in the future, you must be smarter. Any movements from Shiâer Niang, immediately send word to the lady."
Daman looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.
"When will the lady... give a status to my mother, give me a status?"
Jiang Da raised an eyebrow, a meaningful smile in his eyes.
"She will. Once Shiâer Niang becomes the Empress, not only will she grant a status to you and your mother, but she might even arrange a proper marriage for you."
-
Tea sets were arranged on the stove, with Feng Yun and Nan Kui sitting opposite each other, talking about something amusing, their faces filled with smiles.
Daman dragged her feet over, her mind seemingly elsewhere.
Xiaoman pulled her aside, "Did you find the ladyâs handkerchief?"
Daman shook her head.
Xiaoman asked with confusion, "Then why were you gone for so long?"
Daman looked up at her, hesitant to speak.
Xiaoman, not wanting to blame her, comforted in a soft voice, "Itâs okay, itâs okay. The lady is not someone who fusses over such things. If you didnât find it, then you didnât find it, what are you afraid of?"
Daman stiffened.
Did she look that afraid?
Would Feng Yun notice something wrong?
Being such a shrewd person, she would definitely notice.
Daman felt a sense of despair, as if there was a cliff before her, and she was about to fall down, to be shattered to pieces.
Seeing her hesitation, Xiaoman tugged at her, asking suspiciously, "Sister, what are you dawdling for? Go tell the lady, quickly!"
Daman murmured an agreement, silently for a moment before listlessly entering the room.
"Didnât find it?" Feng Yun looked at her expression, her demeanor gentle, "No need to search anymore. Itâs my mistake; I forgot that I didnât bring out that orchid-scented handkerchief."
Damanâs eyes welled up.
Unjust humiliation caught in her throat.
Wanting to say something but unable to speak, tears dripped down relentlessly.
"Whatâs the matter? Canât I even speak to you?" Feng Yun smiled, "Why have your eyes turned red with tears?"
"No, itâs not that." Daman cast her eyes downward, "I thought I had lost the ladyâs handkerchief, and I was a bit scared."
"Scared of what, do you think I would devour you?"
She glanced at Daman, who appeared untroubled, stretched lazily, and said to Nan Kui:
"The General must be done by now; I should go check on him."
Nan Kui responded immediately, standing up with gleeful compliance, bowing politely.
"Madam need not worry about the store. If there are any issues, Jiang Yin and I will discuss and handle them. If we cannot manage, then we will report to Madam."
Feng Yun nodded her head, no longer saying anything. She let Xiaoman fasten her cloak properly and leisurely stepped out of the eatery.
The wind outside was strong.
The blue banner in front of the shop flapped loudly in the breeze.
Outside the doors of the tea house, Chunyu Yan and Jiang Yin stood facing each other in the cold wind.
Jiang Yin lowered her head, her hands twisting a handkerchief nervously, not daring to look directly at the tall Crown Prince of Yunchuan who stood a head above her.
Chunyu Yan likewise remained silent. His mask concealed his facial expressions, but one could see the emotion in those beautiful eyes was far from the carefree laughter and scolding he had shown when facing Feng Yun, seeming serious and earnest.
Feng Yun glanced at the scene and smiled, then walked straight past them.
"Feng Twelve." Chunyu Yan turned his head to look at her.
Feng Yun turned back and courteously greeted him, "Princely Heir."
Chunyu Yanâs eyes and eyebrows turned colder, "Did you not see me?"
Feng Yun smiled, "I saw you."
It was evident that Chunyu Yan was quite displeased, but after pursing his lips, he hid his emotions again and whispered:
"Iâve come to see whether your little business is making money or not."
Feng Yun started to laugh, "Rest assured, Princely Heir, I always keep my promises. The share owed to you will not be short a single coin."
Chunyu Yan raised an eyebrow, "That remains to be seen. Youâre not exactly a good person."
Feng Yun closed her mouth.
In front of Jiang Yin, this man still maintained some semblance of princely dignity.
But speaking with her, he became so annoying.
She couldnât be bothered with him.
They were only a hundred steps away from the meeting hall, and she had no interest in standing here in the cold wind.
She waved her hand slightly and strode forward.
Unexpectedly, Jiang Yin followed her, looking at her with a small measure of curiosity.
"I heard from Ying Niang that madam was coming over, and I was just about to come and pay my respects when I encountered the Princely Heir..."
Feng Yun felt there was no need for her to explain herself.
However, Jiang Yinâs eyes were timid, afraid that she would misunderstand something.
"I didnât talk about anything with the Princely Heir. I do not know him, but he suddenly asked, inquired about something on my body..."
Heard her hesitating, Feng Yun glanced at her sidelong, "Asked you what?"
Jiang Yin looked down, and said with a touch of shyness, "He asked whether I had a birthmark on my lower back..."
Feng Yun asked, "What did you say?"
Jiang Yinâs back stiffened a bit as she nodded, "I do."
No wonder Chunyu Yan had that bereaved expression on his face...
But that wasnât right.
If he found the person he cherished, shouldnât he be overjoyed?
Feng Yun shook her head, disdaining the speed and rhythm with which Chunyu Yan searched for someone, but she didnât concern herself further.
She glanced back at Chunyu Yan still standing in the cold wind and chuckled softly.
"This too is fate. If the Princely Heir wants you, would you consent or not?"
Jiang Yin lowered her head, "He... he looks too terrifying."
Feng Yun was momentarily taken aback, then couldnât help but chuckle.
"Perhaps you could request to see whatâs behind the mask?"