Chapter 5: Entering the Wrong Shop

Su Qingyi slept until nine in the morning. After tidying up, she set off to find Zhou Xu at the address he had provided. Upon arrival, however, she discovered it was an antique shop, not a wood carving studio.

She couldn't help but compare the address to the sign on the door repeatedly.

Only after confirming it multiple times did she step inside. The entrance was blocked by a solid wood screen, painted with a scene of bamboo shadows under a full moon, lending the space a classic, elegant charm. Behind the screen sat a ceramic fish tank, where small golden fish swam gracefully beneath green lotus pads.

To the left, against the wall, stood solid wood display cabinets filled with various porcelains. On the other side, a glass cabinet housed stone Buddha statues whose era was impossible to determine, arranged alongside various vases and other Buddhist artifacts. In the warm, dim lighting, it felt like a tiny museum.

She knew Zhou Xu had good taste, but she hadn’t realized it was *this* good. It was almost on par with the high-end antique shops in Beijing.

But, antiques and Zhou Xu—why did those two things feel so mismatched?

Su Qingyi guessed she had come to the wrong place, but since she was already inside, she steeled herself and continued deeper into the shop. She tried calling out for Zhou Xu, but there was no response, only the faint sound of music drifting down from the second floor.

She steadied herself on the staircase behind the checkout counter and cautiously climbed up. What greeted her was a walnut dining table and solid wood folding windows pushed wide open, framing a view of rolling mountains outside. A mountain breeze swept through the room.

Su Qingyi was first captivated by the scenery, and then she turned toward the source of the music. That single glance felt like a lifetime away.

The man, who exuded an air of detachment and austerity, sat leaning back in a silver computer chair. His hand, resting on the armrest, covered most of his face. A dark, multi-bead agarwood bracelet wound through his fingers, trailing naturally over his distinct wrist bone, exuding a sense of unrestrained freedom that stood in sharp contrast to his composed demeanor.

Su Qingyi stood on the stairs, staring at him in a trance.

He was wearing a loose white shirt today, with silver frog-button fasteners done up tightly from his collar all the way to the hem. There was none of the casual disarray one might expect from someone staying at home; instead, he looked rigorously, almost unbearably, proper.

How could anyone look this good while staying at home?

If he had shown even a flicker of the Jiang Jingye from his youth, Su Qingyi might not have felt her heart race so uncontrollably. This was firmly in "god-tier" territory. In just three meetings, he had stunned her three times.

He didn't seem to notice her until she had fully reached the second floor. With a steady expression, he removed his Bluetooth headset with his left hand and asked, "Is something the matter?"

Only then did Su Qingyi realize the melodic music had stopped. She stared directly at his face and replied, "I'm looking for someone."

He cast a faint glance at her, shifted his chair, and stood up. "Looking for me?"

"No," Su Qingyi realized her gaze had been too bold. She lowered her eyes, avoiding his, and said, "I'm looking for Zhou Xu."

He frowned slightly, as if trying to recall who that was. "Then, please wait here for a moment."

Su Qingyi was taken aback. She had thought she was in the wrong place, yet it seemed Zhou Xu was actually here.

"Alright." Su Qingyi sat down on the nearby elm wood sofa without fuss, her slim back held straight, an air of slight reserve about her.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked softly.

It was a simple question, but under his gaze, Su Qingyi felt a sudden, burning heat. She looked straight at his face and said, "Anything is fine."

He opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated. Lowering his gaze to avoid hers, he leaned over to pick up a coarse pottery teacup and placed it before her. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

He reached out with one hand, picked up the teapot nearby, and poured her a cup. The fragrance of the pre-Qingming Longjing tea filled the air. Su Qingyi didn't know much about tea, but she could smell its delicate scent.

She picked up the cup, took a small sip, and curved her lips into a smile. "Thank you."

He lowered his eyelids, his expression unchanged. "Sit for a while."

With that, he returned to his computer.

Su Qingyi’s gaze followed his back, landing on the computer screen. It displayed familiar scenes of small bridges and green mountains—it looked like a promotional video for the ancient city. She didn't know what the video was for, and fearing he might mind, she only glanced at it for a moment before letting her eyes wander back to his face.

He was focused, staring straight ahead. The mountain breeze blowing in through the window ruffled his black hair. Su Qingyi suddenly understood why people fell for their colleagues; who could see this and not be mesmerized?

Her gaze grew increasingly unreserved.

***

He seemed to be reviewing the footage, his slender fingers tapping and dragging across the keyboard. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but since he had removed his headset, he had been using only his left hand.

Recalling what happened yesterday, she asked, "Is your hand alright?" Her voice carried a hint of concern.

"It's fine," he replied without looking back.

Su Qingyi actually wanted to ask why, if it was fine, he wasn't using it, but seeing he wasn't inclined to talk, she wisely kept her mouth shut.

She just watched him in silence.

I don't know how much time passed, but suddenly, the sound of two men talking came from downstairs. Su Qingyi looked toward the sound and saw two men—one in a hoodie, the other in a denim jacket—walking up the stairs, carrying bags of groceries.

"Brother Jing..." The two walked into the living room, but their laughter ceased the moment they saw Su Qingyi.

An eerie silence fell over the room.

The man in the denim jacket spoke first: "Brother Jing, who... who is this?"

A woman. And a top-tier beauty at that.

They didn't look like they were familiar with each other; in fact, the beauty seemed quite reserved. Yet, he was allowing her to be alone in the room with him—a scene they had never witnessed before.

"She's looking for Zhou Xu," the man at the computer said without turning around.

Zhou Xu?

The man in the denim jacket couldn't help but look at the person behind him. Was there someone like that here?

"The one who runs the wood carving shop?" the man in the hoodie asked as he set down the groceries.

"Yes," Su Qingyi replied, standing up. "Hello, my name is Su Qingyi."

"Hello, I'm Jiang He," the man in the denim jacket said, extending his hand while looking her up and down. "Have we met somewhere before?"

The other two in the room glanced at him simultaneously. The man in the hoodie looked speechless, clearly finding the line cliché.

Seeing them misunderstand, Jiang He hurriedly explained, "No, I really feel like I've met her somewhere. Let me think..."

Ignoring him, the man in the hoodie stepped forward and said, "His shop is about seven or eight hundred meters ahead of ours."

Su Qingyi finally realized she had indeed gone to the wrong place.

She let out a realization and couldn't help but look toward the man at the computer. He had known from the start she was in the wrong place, yet he hadn't driven her away. Instead, he had let her wait here for the correct answer.

She had been right—this man was kind. Even if he didn't care for her, his kindness wouldn't allow him to hurt anyone.

"Alright, thank you." Just as Su Qingyi was about to leave, Jiang He suddenly shouted, "I remember! Did you consult me on a short video platform about filming before? You said you were doing Datong wood carving and wanted more people to know about the craft. I even gave you my studio address and told you to come find me when you had time!"

Su Qingyi was clearly stunned. "Me?"

Jiang He hurriedly opened his short video app and pointed to the chat box on the account that had messaged him: "Look, is this you?"

Su Qingyi didn't use that app, but she took Jiang He's phone anyway.

Opening the profile of the account impersonating her, the first thing she saw was a photo of herself hunched over her workbench. A stray lock of hair fell naturally over her eyes, and she was wearing a solid black short-sleeved shirt, her thin frame unmistakable.

It was a photo taken secretly by a classmate during her college years. It wasn't the best photo of her, but it was Su Qingyi's favorite; she had been using it as her profile background since her sophomore year and hadn't changed it since.

The videos posted on the account were all of finished wood carvings, mimicking her style perfectly. It wasn't just Jiang He who couldn't tell the difference—even Su Qingyi was stunned for a second. The IP address was also in Southern Zhejiang.

She clicked on one of the videos and found that some of the wood carving pieces were exactly the same as the ones she had posted on her social media yesterday, just filmed from a different angle.

She immediately had her answer.

She handed the phone back to Jiang He. "That's me in the photo, but that account is not mine."

Jiang He froze.

The man in the hoodie, who finally understood who they were talking about, burst into laughter. Back then, Jiang He had shown him the profile, boasting that there was a super beauty in Datong who did wood carving, and that she wasn't even cold or distant, having even messaged him about filming videos. He had been so proud of it for a long time, never imagining it was a fake.

Jiang He felt embarrassed and scratched his head. "I see..."

"But I know who this person is. I'll call her over for you right now."

Jiang He paused, wanting to say, "If it's not you, you don't need to call her," but Su Qingyi had already dialed the number.

While Su Qingyi walked away to make the call, Lu Jingchen stood up from the computer. Perhaps out of sympathy, he did something rare: he reached out and patted Jiang He on the shoulder.

Fang Zhu laughed even harder. People who used photos of beauties to impersonate others were usually middle-aged men with hairy legs who called people "brother" in chat.

"No," Jiang He hesitated, "aren't you angry that they're using your photos to deceive innocent... wait, no, to scam people?"

Su Qingyi thought for a moment. "It's alright." After all, their original intentions were likely the same.

Jiang He was speechless. "So, are you leaving now?"

"I'll wait for her to arrive." Su Qingyi didn't feel comfortable leaving the young girl alone.

"That's fair," Jiang He said, feeling slightly better—at least he wasn't the only one who had been deceived. "Looking for people takes time. It's almost dinner time anyway, why don't you stay and eat?"

Su Qingyi smiled.

She sat down on the sofa by herself. Lu Jingchen had already entered the kitchen. She heard him ask, "What are we eating today?"

"I bought fish and ribs. I'm going to crisp the ribs and make a sweet and sour fish. On the way back today..." Fang Zhu was talking to him.

She gradually stopped hearing Fang Zhu's voice. Pretending to be casual, she leaned forward to peek into the kitchen. She saw him take off his prayer beads and stand at the sink, picking the celery he had just pulled from the water. His lowered eyes made him look quiet, solemn, yet warm.

Looking at his fingers, still glistening with water droplets, she couldn't help but remember the moment he stood under the tree, lifting the kitten from the trunk with one hand—sacred, gentle, and filled with compassion.

Then, she thought of his bent waist. Even the loose shirt couldn't hide the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Su Qingyi hurriedly whispered "Amitabha" in her heart, feeling a sense of guilt for having such profane thoughts toward something so sacred.

Fortunately, no one else knew what she was thinking. They probably just thought she was bored, so Jiang He sat in the computer chair and started chatting with her. "Ms. Su, are you a local?"

Su Qingyi nodded.

Jiang He was slightly surprised. "But your accent doesn't sound like a local's."

"I spent over ten years in Beijing," Su Qingyi said, distracted.

Jiang He suddenly realized. "No wonder. Then why did you come back? Beijing is so great. I've never been there, even at my age."

"Because I wanted to come back."

Jiang He: "..."

That answer was no different than saying nothing at all. Seeing she didn't want to talk about it, he didn't press. He turned back to the mouse and resumed editing the promotional video.

The large room fell silent again.

Only the sound of the mountain breeze moving through the woods and the flowing water remained. Su Qingyi leaned forward again to look into the kitchen at his bowed silhouette.

She couldn't help but recall the words he had said to her in front of the temple: *It doesn't matter, take your time.*

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.