The market buzzed with the energy of morning. People moved between stalls like fish in a stream, laughing, calling out prices, exchanging coins and food. But at the small stall where steam rose from bamboo baskets and the smell of lotus and ginger lingered in the air, something was changing.
Li Wei wiped the edge of a tray and glanced at the road again. She didn't know why she kept looking that way. Maybe she expected to see him. But "him" was the confusing part. Which him?
Was it Shen, with his quiet help and unreadable eyes behind that mask?
Or was it Lin Xun, with his gentle voice, warm gaze, and too-perfect timing?
She wasn't sure anymore.
"Stop staring," Mei whispered as she poured tea for a customer. "You'll burn a hole in the air."
Li Wei snapped back and gave a small smile. "I wasn't staring."
"You were."
"I was thinking."
Mei arched an eyebrow. "About your mysterious customer who keeps leaving silver like it's candy?"
Li Wei didn't reply. Instead, she turned to the steam baskets and checked the buns again. They were perfect—soft, golden, lightly sweet. Just the way her mother used to make them.
And maybe that was the problem. Nothing else in her life felt perfect anymore.
In the upper district of the city, behind the thick red walls of the Lin estate, Lin Xun leaned against a window frame, chewing a piece of the ginger bun he'd brought back.
"She made these herself?" his mother asked, seated near the window.
"Yes. She runs the stall with her sister and a friend."
"From a noble family, wasn't she?"
"She was."
The Lady of the house looked thoughtful. "And now she's cooking on the street."
"She didn't have much choice."
"Still. A girl who can rise from the ashes like that… deserves some respect."
Lin Xun smiled. "I thought the same."
"Don't lose your head," she warned. "The city has many faces. Some are painted. Some are knives."
"I haven't made any decisions."
His mother gave him a long look.
"But you're thinking about it."
Back at the general's command tent, Feng returned with a quiet knock.
"She's fine," he said as he sat across from Yan Chen. "Sales are strong. She's popular."
Yan Chen nodded once, not looking up from the map he was studying.
"But there's more," Feng added. "The son of Minister Lin visited her stall again."
Now Yan Chen looked up.
"He's... friendly," Feng continued. "Too friendly. I think he's trying to impress her."
"And?"
"And she doesn't look uncomfortable. That's new."
Yan Chen turned back to the map.
"Should I—?"
"No," the general interrupted. "Just watch. Report."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
Feng paused. "You could visit. Just once."
"She has enough visitors."
There was silence for a while. Then Feng added, almost too softly, "You know, sometimes people want to be protected, not just watched."
Yan Chen didn't respond.
Later that day, Li Wei received a folded note tucked under one of the bamboo baskets. She spotted it just before closing.
She opened it.
"Sometimes, kindness is silent. But it still waits for thanks."
No name. No signature.
The handwriting was familiar, yet slightly changed.
She looked around. But there was no one standing nearby. Only fading footsteps and the scent of hot iron from the blacksmith's shop down the street.
"Another admirer?" Mei teased as Li Wei tucked the note away.
"Maybe," Li Wei said, her voice low.
That night, she placed the note beside the others. A small collection now. All different. Some likely from Shen. Others—she wasn't sure. It made her feel watched. But not in a bad way. More like... someone had her back.
Still, it left her unsettled.
Was it wrong to enjoy Lin Xun's company? Was it betrayal to feel a small smile when he visited?
She didn't know.
The next afternoon, Lin Xun returned. This time, he brought a gift—a small wooden comb with carved lotus petals.
"For your sister," he said, placing it carefully on the counter.
Li Wei blinked. "Oh. That's very kind."
"And one for you," he added, placing a second comb beside the first. This one had a jade inlay. Tiny. Not too expensive. But still more than a street girl should accept.
"I can't—"
"You can. Just… think of it as friendship."
"Friendship doesn't need jade."
"No, but sometimes it needs reminders."
Li Wei took the comb slowly.
"Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome."
That evening, she brought the comb to her mother.
"It's from a man at the market," she said.
Her mother looked at it quietly.
"He's from a good family?"
"Yes. Minister Lin's son."
Her mother held the comb, turning it in her hands. "It's beautiful."
"I told him I couldn't accept it. But he insisted."
Her mother placed the comb down. "You need allies, Wei. We've lost much. If someone offers you kindness, you don't always have to turn it away."
Li Wei sat beside her. "I don't know what I feel. It's not like with... Shen."
"Shen wears a mask. This one brings you gifts."
"I don't want gifts. I want peace."
Her mother smiled sadly. "Then perhaps peace is what you should ask for."
The next morning, before the stall opened, Li Wei found another note.
"He brings you combs. I bring you safety. One shines. One shields."
It wasn't signed. But she knew who it was from.
Shen.
Or rather... Yan Chen.
Her heart beat too fast.
He was still watching. Still near.
But never close.
Never saying the words she hoped to hear.
At the barracks, Yan Chen stood by the gate, watching the city through the gaps in the wood.
Feng came to stand beside him.
"She liked the comb," he said.
Yan Chen's face didn't change.
"And the note?" Feng asked.
"I left it last night."
"She'll figure it out soon."
"I know."
"You're still leaving?"
"Yes. Orders came this morning. I leave in five days."
Feng crossed his arms. "You're really not going to say goodbye?"
"I already said it. She just didn't hear me."
That day, a letter came to Li Wei's stall. Thick parchment. Gold seal.
An invitation.
She opened it with shaking hands.
"Lady Li Wei is formally invited to dine with the Lin Family at the Minister's estate."
Beneath the text was a short handwritten message.
"No pressure. Just a meal. —Lin Xun"
Mei gasped when she saw it.
"He wants to marry you!"
"No, he doesn't."
"Yes, he does. Why else invite you to dinner at his family's house?"
"I don't know. Maybe they want to hire me to cook!"
"For the wedding feast?"
Li Wei gave her a look.
But her heart beat faster.
Dinner with a noble family. After everything her family had lost.
What would her father say?
That night, Shen stood on the rooftop of the old temple.
He looked toward the Lin estate. A light was shining in the garden room.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Only stayed there until the candle burned out.
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