The warehouse behind the inn was dark and damp, lit only by a small torch in the far corner. Large crates stacked neatly on either side bore the red wax seal of the Wei family. In the middle of the room sat a masked man with sharp eyes and a slight furrow between his brows—Xiao Bai, or rather, Li Chengyan.
He let out a loud sigh, muttering to himself as he twirled his dagger.
“I used to guard city fortresses, lead war campaigns, draft military strategy, and march a hundred soldiers through snow. I even survived poison traps. And now? Guarding... rice and silk.” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Brilliant, Chengyan. Truly a promotion.”
He looked up at the ceiling and hissed under his breath. “And that woman… always talking. Why did I give in just because she called me a ‘capable man’? Hmph. A real ‘capable man’ should be sleeping on a bed—not sitting on a sack of rice.”
The warehouse door suddenly creaked open. Light footsteps echoed in.
“See? I told you he hadn’t eaten!” A Qiao’s voice rang out.
Li Chengyan instinctively stood, half-alert, before recognizing the voice. Lin Xi entered with a tray of food in her hands, followed by A Qiao, who carried a fine tea set.
“Why do you look like a tomb guard, not a warehouse keeper?” Lin Xi asked casually, placing the tray atop a wooden crate. “I figured you could use a little warmth. So we brought warm porridge and boiled dumplings.”
“I’m not hungry,” Li Chengyan muttered, leaning against the wall.
“Then at least keep me company. I’m far too pretty to eat alone in a gloomy place like this.”
Chengyan rolled his eyes. Meanwhile, A Qiao began unpacking the food. But as fate would have it, the tea pot knocked against the edge of a crate and spilled onto Lin Xi’s dress.
“Ah! A Qiao!!” Lin Xi shrieked, theatrically. She winked at A Qiao, who quickly joined in on the performance.
“I’m so sorry, Miss! My hand just—”
“Enough, enough. You panic like a hen splashed with water. Go fetch a cloth from the kitchen!” Lin Xi waved her off while shaking the hem of her damp gown.
A Qiao fled like the wind. Li Chengyan, arms still folded, struggled to hide the upward twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Lin Xi said, giving him a sharp glance. “I just sacrificed my dignity to come to this miserable warehouse and bring you porridge with my own two hands, and you’re laughing at my soaked dress?”
“It’s funny. You’re usually so precise and graceful,” Chengyan replied, taking a seat at the makeshift table. Lin Xi returned to her spot across from him.
They were now alone. The atmosphere quieted—only the soft clink of spoon against porcelain broke the silence.
Lin Xi handed him a bowl. “If you’re not hungry, at least eat because I went through all the trouble to bring this. And if you still refuse, I’ll just poison you now.”
This woman’s mouth... So bold. Li Chengyan glanced between her and the bowl, then accepted it with a reluctant sigh.
“Thank you,” he said—grudgingly.
“Oh? You can say thank you?” Lin Xi teased, spooning a dumpling into her mouth. “That means you do have manners.”
They ate in silence for a while. But the silence wasn’t stiff—it was warm. Occasionally, their eyes met, then darted away as if by accident. Li Chengyan hid a small smile behind his bowl, while Lin Xi stared into her porridge as if weighing something in her mind.
At last, she spoke softly. “You... who are you, really?”
The question was like a breeze skimming the surface of water. Not deep, but enough to send ripples. Li Chengyan simply stared at her, said nothing, and took another sip of tea.
Outside, the wind blew gently, carrying a scent of distant longing. Amid the stillness and the cooling aroma of dumplings, Lin Xi observed Li Chengyan—sitting stiffly, like a bamboo stalk planted in stone. He drank his tea slowly, each movement deliberate, as though raised with the etiquette of high nobles.
Noticing this only deepened Lin Xi’s suspicion. Though he wore a faded black cloak, his demeanor betrayed refinement. Still, her playful spirit would not be quenched.
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and gazed at him with impish eyes.
“You frown so much. Don’t tell me your face was carved by the gods just to smile once a year?”
Li Chengyan glanced sideways but didn’t reply. His deadpan expression made it clear he knew he was being mocked.
Unsatisfied with his response, Lin Xi edged closer—just a few inches from his face.
“Come on, smile a little. Like this.”
She flashed an exaggerated grin—so wide all her perfectly aligned teeth showed.
Li Chengyan frowned. “Did you just recover from facial spasms?”
Lin Xi burst out laughing. “You finally spoke more than three words! Incredible, Xiao Bai—is this... a miracle?”
Clearly annoyed, Chengyan feigned interest in his porridge. But Lin Xi wasn’t finished. She picked up a dumpling, blew on it gently, and held it up to his mouth.
“Come now. Open wide. Aaaa—”
Li Chengyan arched a brow and leaned away, nearly spilling his bowl.
“What are you doing?” His voice was calm, but he sounded like a man in the middle of an existential crisis.
“Feeding you. Like a good master should feed her loyal guard,” Lin Xi replied nonchalantly, dumpling still in hand.
“I’m not a baby chick.”
Lin Xi laughed again, this time clapping her hand against her knee. “Oh heavens, why are you so serious? Your face looks like a temple guardian who just found out someone stole the incense.”
She finally lowered the dumpling back into her bowl and leaned against a crate behind her. Her laughter faded, but the smile lingered on her lips.
“Dangerous,” she muttered to herself.
Li Chengyan turned toward her, silent.
If this keeps up, I might forget I’m supposed to be acting like a graceful, noble lady.
Their eyes met for a few seconds. And for that moment, neither spoke.
Lin Xi blinked, quickly sipping her tea and turning away. “But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just bored. Very bored.”
Li Chengyan lowered his head, running his finger along the rim of his bowl. He spoke softly, almost inaudibly, “I know.”
Lin Xi turned sharply. “What?”
“I know you’re bored.” He stood, picked up his empty bowl, and walked to the warehouse door.
But before exiting, he paused and looked over his shoulder.
“But don’t play too often... Someone might misunderstand.”
The door closed behind him.
Lin Xi stared after him, eyes slightly wide. She blinked, then let out a small chuckle—this time softer, like she was laughing at herself.
“Well... who knew you had it in you?”