Flustered and scrambling to get off him, Bai Qingqing was overwhelmed with embarrassment. When she saw the handkerchief in her hand, she wished she could swallow it whole.
“S-sorry for the indecency.”
“It’s nothing. Hardly the first time.”
Bai Qingqing: “…”
Clutching the handkerchief nervously, she said, “I’ll replace it with a new one. I’m really sorry—I was just a bit… startled.”
Ning Yan crossed his legs, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. “Startled? I thought you were heartbroken because you couldn’t accept it.”
“There’s that too. I grieve for my own past ignorance.”
A glint of uncharacteristic fierceness flashed in Bai Qingqing’s eyes. “If it’s true, I’ll never forgive those who tried to harm the Bai family. Not a single one.”
Ning Yan’s eyes flickered with surprise. He hadn’t expected this—she accepted it so easily? He’d thought she and Fu Yi were friends, that she’d struggle, question, maybe even deny it.
But instead, an odd and inexplicable joy welled up in him. He didn’t know why, and it didn’t matter.
“Whether to tell your father or not, I’ll leave to you. My advice? Tell him, but urge him not to show it. Shifting from light to shadow is the smartest move.”
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“I understand. I’ll make sure he grasps the stakes.”
Bai Qingqing nodded solemnly, then drew in a deep breath. Her eyes reddened, but she braced herself, ready to hear whatever Ning Yan’s third revelation might be.
“And the last thing?”
She had resolved—no matter what she heard next, she would not lose her composure again.
Ning Yan’s gaze shifted slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “The third matter—why, it’s to finally meet the sweet little Xiangxiang from my memories.”
Bai Qingqing: “…”
Why couldn’t this man stay serious for more than a minute?
…
When Bai Jinghuai told Madam Qiao that Ning Yan would be accompanying Bai Qingqing to the southwest, the sickly woman shot upright in bed, wide-eyed with disbelief.
“Is it true? You’re not just saying that to cheer me up, are you?”
“Oh, come on, lie down! Of course it’s true. How could I lie about something like this? Lord Ning himself came to our house and said it—he’s taking Qingqing with him the day after tomorrow. Now you can finally be at ease. He’s the Commander of the Embroidered Guards—she’ll be much safer with him around.”
The heavy stone in Madam Qiao’s heart finally dropped. She leaned blankly against the headboard, dazed for a moment, then turned to him again. “But why? Why would Lord Ning come all this way to escort Qingqing to the southwest?”
Bai Jinghuai sat cross-legged at the edge of her bed, eyes shining with gossip. “So you find it odd too! I knew it couldn’t just be me.”
“You don’t think… Lord Ning might truly be fond of our daughter?” Madam Qiao looked a bit troubled. If that were the case, then what would they…
“That’s what I thought too! Not only did I think it—I asked! Guess what he said?”
Just recalling it made Bai Jinghuai chuckle. “He said it himself—no. He has no intention of marrying in this lifetime. He won’t fall for anyone. He’s just doing a good deed.”
Madam Qiao: “…”
“But I don’t buy it. You remember that wooden stump who lived across from your house before we married?”
Madam Qiao gave him a side-eye. “That was Brother Zhao. Not a stump.”
“Fine, fine—Brother Zhao. Always hanging around you, swearing he only saw you as a sister, and then nearly jumped into the river when we got married.”
“…He just slipped and fell in.”