The market had never been this crowded.
Li Wei stood behind her stall, wiping sweat from her forehead. The steam from the bamboo baskets filled the air, carrying the scent of ginger, lotus paste, and sweet black sesame. Customers came and went, some pausing to compliment the food, others just waving with full mouths.
"You're doing well today," Xiao Mei said cheerfully, wrapping another bun in paper.
"I suppose the new title helped," Li Wei answered with a soft smile. "Honored Small Vendor. Sounds grand, doesn't it?"
"But you still don't know who gave it to you?"
Li Wei shook her head. "No name. No sign. Just the same little notes."
Mei lowered her voice. "You think it's Shen?"
Li Wei hesitated. "I don't know. He's helped in the open. But this feels different. Quieter. Like someone watching without wanting credit."
Mei leaned in. "Mysterious admirer?"
Li Wei gave her a look.
"Alright, alright," Mei giggled. "I'm just saying... there are worse things than secret help."
Suddenly, a tall man in a plain green robe approached the stall. He looked to be in his thirties, with a calm face and gentle eyes. He wasn't from the neighborhood—that was clear. His clothes were clean but expensive. He carried himself like someone used to being obeyed.
"Three of the ginger buns, please," he said with a nod.
"Coming right up," Li Wei answered, wrapping them quickly.
As she handed them over, he paused. "These smell better than anything I've had in the palace kitchens."
Li Wei blinked. "You've eaten at the palace?"
The man smiled faintly. "I work for someone who does. He has particular tastes."
"Well, I hope they suit him."
"They suit me, that's for sure. I'll be back."
He placed a silver coin on the counter. Far too much.
"That's—" she started.
"A gift. For good food and quiet strength."
Before she could respond, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
That night, in a grand carriage rolling down the alley behind the market, the same man handed the buns to a younger noble sitting inside.
"They're warm," he said. "Just as you like."
The young man unwrapped one. "You really go to this stall every week?"
"Ever since I first tasted them. She's good. The girl who makes them."
The noble looked out the window, his eyes curious. "And she runs the stall herself?"
"Yes. With a younger sister and a friend, I believe."
He took a bite. His face changed.
"This… this is better than anything my chef makes."
The servant smiled. "I told you."
"What's her name?"
"Li Wei."
The noble nodded slowly. "I want to meet her."
Back in the general's command post, Feng poured two cups of tea and sat across from Yan Chen.
"She's fine," he said, as he always did. "Crowds are growing. That new title seems to have done the trick."
Yan Chen didn't respond.
"But I saw something odd," Feng added.
"What?"
"A man from the inner city. A servant. Not someone who just passes through the market. He bought buns. Paid too much."
"Spying?"
"Not sure. Could just be curiosity. But he wasn't local."
Yan Chen narrowed his eyes. "Keep watching. Don't interfere."
Feng tilted his head. "Jealous?"
Yan Chen sipped his tea without replying.
A few days later, the same servant returned.
He didn't speak much this time. Just smiled, paid generously, and left with three buns again. And again, Li Wei felt something strange. Not wrong, just… like a thread pulling at her from another direction.
She said nothing to Mei.
But later that afternoon, a finely dressed young man stopped at her stall. His hair was neatly tied, his robe simple but high-quality. His hands were clean—too clean for someone used to markets.
"Are these the famous buns everyone talks about?" he asked lightly.
Li Wei looked up. "Famous?"
The man smiled. "At least in my household. My servant refuses to eat anywhere else now."
"You must be the master with the picky taste."
"I prefer the term refined," he said, laughing softly. "I'm Lin Xun."
Li Wei bowed her head slightly. "Li Wei."
He extended his hand but quickly pulled it back, realizing the place wasn't suited for such formality. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all. Would you like something?"
"Surprise me."
She handed him a lotus bun, warm and sticky with honey glaze.
Lin Xun took a bite and sighed with delight. "I see what he meant. This is extraordinary."
"You flatter me."
"No. I'm simply honest."
He lingered a moment, eyes scanning the stall, the pots, the girl behind the counter.
"You made this from nothing," he said. "That's impressive."
"I had to. There wasn't another choice."
He nodded. "I respect that."
Then he left, promising to return.
Mei pulled Li Wei aside that evening.
"He's handsome."
"Who?"
"That man. Lin something."
"Lin Xun."
"You're blushing."
"I am not."
"You are. And he looked at you like he was already planning your wedding."
Li Wei rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly."
But later, as she lit the lantern at her window, she found another note. This time, the handwriting was different.
"Your kindness feeds more than hunger."
She stared at it. Her heart beat faster.
Who was writing these? Shen? Lin Xun? Someone else?
And why did she feel like she was standing between two shadows?
A week passed. Lin Xun returned twice. He brought books the second time.
"I thought you might enjoy these," he said. "Stories about clever cooks and brave girls."
Li Wei accepted them politely. "Thank you."
"I heard about your troubles with the board," he added. "If you ever need legal help, I can recommend someone."
"I'm fine. Truly."
"But you don't have to be."
His words hung in the air. Kind. Gentle. But heavier than they sounded.
Li Wei smiled. "I'll think about it."
That evening, she tucked the books onto a small shelf in her room. And as she turned down her lantern, she noticed something strange.
A shadow outside.
She moved quietly to the door—but no one was there.
Only a note, tied with red string.
"Do not trust too quickly. Even honey hides the sting."
Her hands trembled.
She looked around.
No one.
The next day, she didn't mention the note to Mei. She didn't speak much at all.
When Lin Xun arrived, she served him quietly. He noticed her silence.
"Something wrong?"
"No. Just tired."
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small box.
"For you."
She hesitated. "What is it?"
"Hairpin. Nothing expensive. Just... something I thought you might like."
Li Wei didn't take it.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because gifts mean promises. And I'm not ready for those."
He nodded slowly. "I understand."
But his eyes looked disappointed.
That night, Yan Chen stood alone on the rooftop of the training barracks. The city stretched out before him, lit by moonlight.
Feng approached quietly.
"He gave her a gift."
"I know," Yan Chen said.
"You're still not going to interfere?"
"She has the right to choose."
"But you care."
Yan Chen didn't respond.
Instead, he stared at the stars.
"I'm leaving soon," he said.
Feng blinked. "What?"
"Three weeks. We received word from the west. There's movement near the borders. I'm needed."
"You're going to war?"
"Yes."
Feng looked at him. "You're going without telling her?"
"She'll be better off."
Feng didn't argue. Just sighed.
The next day, Li Wei received a visitor.
Not Lin Xun.
Not Shen.
Not even the market inspector.
It was a messenger from the palace.
He carried a scroll sealed in gold wax.
Li Wei's hands shook as she opened it.
It was an invitation.
To dinner.
At the house of Minister Lin.
With his son.
Mei screamed when she saw it.
"You're getting married!"
"No, I'm not!"
"But this—this is a courtship dinner!"
Li Wei sat down hard.
"Why now?" she whispered.
"Because you're loved," Mei said softly. "By more than one person."
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