Da Chen nodded slightly and got up to leave at a glance from Wen Zhiyan.
Fang Miaomiao peeled the skin off a candied hawthorn. "Want some?"
Wen Zhiyan shook his head. "You like sweet things?"
"Not really, I just haven't had candied hawthorn in a long time. It's nice to have it once in a while."
Fang Miaomiao put one into her mouth, it was sour and sweet, and tasted very good.
Wen Zhiyan watched Fang Miaomiao finish two with a smile. "Why aren't you eating anymore?"
Fang Miaomiao shook her head. "Too much makes me feel sick. How about we find a place to eat?"
As she spoke, Fang Miaomiao searched for restaurant recommendations on her phone.
"So, you came out to play and immediately started looking for places to eat?"
Fang Miaomiao glanced at him, not stopping her actions. "Of course. Eating is the quickest way to integrate into a place. If your taste buds don't match the local cuisine, there's no point in forcing yourself to stay."
Wen Zhiyan looked confused. "Why does what you're saying sound like you're telling me something?"
"How so?" Fang Miaomiao found a food guide, her eyes lit up. "This place looks good, and it has many positive reviews. How about we go there to eat fish?"
"As long as Miaomiao likes it." Wen Zhiyan took Fang Miaomiao's hand. "But Miaomiao, have you considered that it's only 10:30?"
Going for lunch at 10:30 might be too early.
"You have a point. Then let's go somewhere else."
Fang Miaomiao gave a mysterious smile and pushed the wheelchair towards a certain direction.
"Where are you taking me, Miaomiao?"
"To sell you."
Wen Zhiyan chuckled. "I'm not worth much."
"Nonsense, if you're not worth much, who is?" Fang Miaomiao listened to the flowing water nearby. "To me, you are very valuable."
Others might not know, but she, who had transmigrated into this book, did.
It wasn't that she was overestimating Wen Zhiyan, or flattering him. If it weren't for Wen Zhiyan five years ago, it was uncertain whether the Wen Group would still exist, let alone develop to its current state.
In the book, shortly after Elder Wen handed the Wen Group over to someone else, problems arose. The male protagonist, Wen Wenlan, had no choice but to abandon his acting career and follow the same path as Wen Zhiyan.
"Where does Miaomiao want to take me?" Wen Zhiyan gently changed the subject.
"To a good place!" Fang Miaomiao's voice was filled with joy. "I saw it on my phone this morning."
"When you weren't eating breakfast properly?"
"I don't like hearing you say that. I was clearly multitasking."
"Okay, Miaomiao is very capable, multitasking."
They walked on the bluestone path for about half an hour before Fang Miaomiao saw the large banyan tree in the distance.
Red ribbons fluttered in the wind from the banyan tree.
Wen Zhiyan also noticed the scenery ahead, and the corners of his mouth turned up involuntarily. "Miaomiao."
"Cough, cough." Fang Miaomiao rubbed her nose. "I just heard that this place is very beautiful, and that banyan tree is hundreds of years old and very spiritual. I was curious, and since we were already here, I thought I'd come and see it."
"Alright, Miaomiao and I will go see it together."
The two walked under the banyan tree, where playful children were giggling and playing hide-and-seek around its trunk.
An elderly man in his sixties, wearing reading glasses and a gray robe, sat smilingly beside a long table, watching the frolicking children.
"Miaomiao, let's go write one too."
Wen Zhiyan had never believed in ghosts or gods before, but when it came to Fang Miaomiao, he piously and selfishly wished for the person behind him to stay with him longer and longer.
This life, the next life, even the life after that.
"Oh, a customer for my little stall today." The robed elder smiled and gestured to a nearby bamboo fortune stick holder.
"Grandpa, hello. Can we tie a red ribbon on it?"
The robed elder nodded. "Of course, but tying red ribbons here requires drawing a lot."
"Drawing a lot?"
"Naturally. Here, we believe that fate is determined by heaven. Only with a marriage recognized by heaven can a red ribbon be tied to the tree," the robed elder said. "If it's not recognized, we won't allow the red ribbon to be tied."
"It can be like that?" Fang Miaomiao blinked in suspicion. "This is how businesses are done nowadays."
The robed elder nodded. "We only do business with those who are fated."
Wen Zhiyan showed some interest. "Elder, how do you determine if we are your fated customers?"
The robed elder looked at Wen Zhiyan. "By speaking out, you are naturally fated. Young man, do you have doubts and anxieties in your heart? If so, why not draw a lot?"
Wen Zhiyan frowned, meeting the elder's bright, knowing eyes. "You?"
"Want to try?"
Fang Miaomiao raised an eyebrow. "Then I'll try."
"Don't worry, if there's no fate, it's free."
Hearing this, Wen Zhiyan's fingers curled up. After a pause, he took the fortune stick holder from the robed elder. "How do I do it?"
"Follow your feeling and take one out from the holder."
Fang Miaomiao became more interested. "Grandpa, in temples on TV, they shake the fortune stick holder, and the one that falls is yours. Why here do you pick one yourself?"
The robed elder smiled meaningfully. "Sometimes, things are in human hands."
Wen Zhiyan looked at the countless fortune sticks in the holder, and with some nervousness, he picked one out.
"Elder."
The robed elder took the stick and adjusted his glasses, examining it closely.
The more he looked.
The deeper his smile became.
Fang Miaomiao glanced at Wen Zhiyan suspiciously.
Wen Zhiyan shook his head, he didn't know much about these things.
"Young lady, it's your turn."
Fang Miaomiao pointed to Wen Zhiyan beside her. "Aren't you going to interpret the lot?"
"No rush." The robed elder shook his head. "Since you two drew lots, the interpretation will be for both of you."
Fang Miaomiao took the fortune stick holder from Wen Zhiyan, shook it casually, and picked out a stick, handing it to the robed elder. "Thank you, Grandpa."
The robed elder took the stick and held the two sticks in his hand for a long time before nodding with satisfaction. "I knew this old man's eyes wouldn't misjudge people."
After speaking, he casually threw the sticks into the fortune stick holder in front of Fang Miaomiao.
"Your names," the robed elder asked, picking up a brush and dipping it in ink.
"Wen Zhiyan."
"Fang Miaomiao."
The robed elder's brush moved non-stop, and he wrote on the two red ribbons.
To Fang Miaomiao's surprise, the elder's handwriting was not only beautiful, but he also wrote their names correctly.
From her perspective, the last character of Wen Zhiyan's name was quite difficult to write, and most people would ask which 'yan' it was before attempting it.
The robed elder looked at the characters on the red ribbons and tied the two ribbons together with a stone. "Take these."
He spoke to Fang Miaomiao, but handed the ribbons in the direction of Wen Zhiyan.
"Grandpa?" Fang Miaomiao increasingly felt that this grandpa was being mysterious.