The young lady held a stack of used rice paper in her hands, her fingertips smudged with ink.
Though she didn’t look disheveled, this wasn’t how she wanted to present herself to Huo Jue. In the past, despite her fondness for him, she had been carefree and untamed, unconcerned about her appearance when stepping out, unlike other young ladies.
But now things were different. As her mother had reminded her, she would soon be a grown woman.
Startled by his presence, Jiang Li instinctively hid the papers behind her back. “Why are you at the bookstore? Did you come to buy paper, ink, brushes, or an inkstone?”
“No,” Huo Jue replied, stepping closer. “I came here specifically to wait for you.”
With a quick motion, his long arm reached out and effortlessly plucked the papers from her hands.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Jiang Li protested, flustered. She stretched out her hands in a futile attempt to reclaim her “treasured creations.” “Give them back! The ink hasn’t dried yet!”
Huo Jue, taller and faster, held the papers high above her reach.
It was a busy street, and Jiang Li didn’t want to make a scene. Puffing her cheeks in frustration, she turned and stomped away.
Huo Jue followed close behind, staying just a step back.
When they neared the end of the street, he held the papers up again and called out, “Ali, come find me at the pharmacy later.”
Jiang Li turned sharply, shooting him an annoyed glare before vanishing into the tavern.
Huo Jue watched her retreat, a faint smile spreading across his dark eyes.
Once, Ali had been shy and hesitant, struggling even to form words in his presence. But now, she’d grown bold enough to glare at him.
He found it quite charming.
-
Jiang Li went home, changed her clothes, washed her hands, and quietly slipped out through the patio.
When she arrived at the drugstore, she was surprised to find not just Huo Jue but also Su Shiqing.
Seeing Su Shiqing up and about startled her at first, but she quickly noticed how much healthier he looked. His complexion had improved significantly since the last time she’d seen him.
“Old Man Su! You’re up and walking?” Jiang Li exclaimed with a bright smile.
Su Shiqing laughed warmly and replied, “Yes, after Ajue adjusted my prescription, I’ve been feeling better every day. I’ve even been able to get out of bed and move around these past two days.”
“That’s wonderful! Old Man Su is truly blessed,” Jiang Li said, grinning. “But if you ask me, you should take this chance to rest properly. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be back to your busy self before you know it.”
Su Shiqing chuckled heartily, “Alright, alright, Uncle Su will listen to Ajue and rest as much as needed!”
He then turned to Jiang Li, his tone playful, “Ajue tells me you’re learning calligraphy from him. That’s admirable! Stick with it, and if he scolds you, come tell me—I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Jiang Li blinked in confusion. When did I ever say I wanted to learn calligraphy from him?
She turned toward Huo Jue, meeting his steady gaze. His cold yet gentle eyes gave nothing away. Deciding not to expose him, she obediently nodded, “Yes.”
Satisfied, Su Shiqing didn’t linger long, as his body was still recovering. After chatting briefly, he returned indoors to rest.
Huo Jue led Jiang Li to the flower hall, where she noticed paper, ink, brushes, and an inkstone already laid out neatly on the table.
It seemed this young master had made up his mind to personally teach her calligraphy.
Huo Jue stood behind the table, grinding ink at a leisurely pace. His voice was calm and soothing. “If Ah Li wanted to learn calligraphy, why didn’t she come to me? Isn’t my handwriting better than Miss Liu’s?”
Jiang Li bit her lip. Better? Of course, it’s better!
Her younger brother, Ah Ling, had praised Huo Jue’s writing countless times, saying it was even more elegant than their teacher’s.
But that was precisely the problem. His calligraphy was too good.
After a long pause, Jiang Li muttered, “Why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken?”
Huo Jue’s hand froze briefly. Then, after a few heartbeats, a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest.
Flustered, Jiang Li’s face turned red. “What I mean is, there’s no need to waste your talent. I can learn from Ah Yan or, at worst, even from Ah Ling!”
“But I want to teach Ah Li,” Huo Jue said, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. His pale eyes lifted to meet hers, his tone unhurried. “Does Ah Li not want me to?”
Her resolve faltered under his intense, narrow phoenix eyes.
She hesitated. Of course I don’t want him to see my awful handwriting! Her letters were so clumsy they looked like they’d been scrawled by a child.
But faced with Huo Jue’s gaze, the words “I don’t want to” refused to leave her lips.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she murmured reluctantly. “But you’re not allowed to laugh at my writing. If you laugh, I’ll never learn from you again!”
Her soft, lilting voice tried to sound threatening, but her expression resembled a tiny kitten baring its teeth—adorable rather than intimidating.
Huo Jue smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Ah Li. I would never laugh at you. If I do, then—”
“Stop!” Jiang Li quickly raised her hand to cover his mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. “Don’t swear. Heaven might hear you.”
Her hands were warm and soft, with a delicate suppleness to them, a stark contrast to the cold, rigid touch he remembered from the past.
Huo Jue’s eyes darkened, a faint blush creeping up the corners of his cheeks. Hidden deep in his gaze was a flicker of possessiveness and an emotion bordering on madness.
He clasped her small hand in his larger one, pressing it gently before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her palm.
Jiang Li felt a light tickle on her skin. Before she could process what had happened, Huo Jue had already taken a step back. His voice was deeper now, tinged with hoarseness.
“Ah Li, if you don’t start practicing soon, it’ll get dark.”
-
At night, as everything quieted down, Jiang Li sat with Huo Jue’s calligraphy in her hands, studying it for a long time.
The paper bore two names: Jiang Li and Huo Jue.
The names were written close together, overlapping slightly. The longer she looked at them, the more she liked what she saw.
Jiang Li was a simple person, unskilled in appreciating the nuances of artistic calligraphy. She didn’t care about the elegance or the structure of the characters—she just liked seeing her name paired with his. Together, the two names looked like a couple.
A smile spread across her face, growing wider with each passing moment.
But as she basked in this simple joy, a memory from the afternoon surfaced. She thought back to the moment she had hurriedly covered his lips with her hand.
Her palm seemed to tingle with the ghost of a sensation—warm and soft, like a fleeting kiss. Could it be? Did he… kiss her palm?
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. Someone as composed and reserved as Huo Jue would never do something so bold. It must have been an accident.
Even so, Jiang Li felt her face grow unbearably hot.
She glanced around nervously. The door was closed, and the only sound was the faint rustling of the night wind.
Lowering her eyes to her palm, she stared at it intently. After battling between conscience and impulse, she finally made up her mind.
With a swift and decisive motion, she smacked the spot where Huo Jue’s lips might have touched, then immediately dove under her quilt, covering herself completely.
-
From that day forward, Jiang Li dedicated herself to practicing calligraphy daily.
Huo Jue prepared dozens of practice sheets for her and even crafted a makeshift ruler from a smooth branch. If her posture faltered or her focus wavered, he would lightly tap her with it as a reminder.
The gentle corrections startled Jiang Li every time, and she would glare at him indignantly before picking up her brush to continue.
By mid-March, Jiang Li’s once soft and unsteady handwriting had finally taken shape, becoming legible and graceful.
Eager to show off her progress, she brought her latest work to Liu Yan at the bookstore.
To her surprise, Zhang Yingying was there as well.
The two friends examined her calligraphy carefully, admiring it for a long time.
“You’ve improved so much,” Liu Yan exclaimed. “I thought you’d given up on practicing since you hadn’t been by the bookstore lately. But look at this—it’s beautiful!”
Zhang Yingying tilted her head, scrutinizing the paper. Finally, she couldn’t resist asking, “Ali, was it really Huo Jue who taught you calligraphy?”
Jiang Li nodded enthusiastically. “Of course it was him! When have I ever lied to you?”
The two exchanged glances, hesitation flickering across their faces.
The truth was, when Jiang Li had first claimed that Huo Jue agreed to be her child husband, neither of them had believed her.
It wasn’t uncommon for a young girl in love to misinterpret her lover’s words or actions. A vibrant and imaginative person like Jiang Li might easily misunderstand a casual remark.
But this? This was different.
If Huo Jue had taken the time to teach Jiang Li calligraphy—something requiring patience and attention—it was clear that she held a special place in his heart.
Yet, there was a problem.
Huo Jue was rumored to be engaged to Xue Shanzhang’s daughter, Miss Xue Zhen.
Seeing the concerned expressions on her friends’ faces, Jiang Li felt her heart sink.
“Are you hiding something from me?” she asked hesitantly.
Zhang Yingying, unable to keep secrets for long, blurted out, “Two maids from the Xue family came to the bedding shop recently. They were there to collect bedding for Miss Xue. I overheard them talking—they said that after Huo Jue passes the provincial examination, he’s supposed to get engaged to Miss Xue. Apparently, Xue Shanzhang has already arranged everything with him.”
Liu Yan added quietly, “My father went to the Xue household yesterday to deliver paper and ink. He heard the same thing. It seems Xue Shanzhang has been planning this for a long time, and… Huo Jue seems willing.”
Jiang Li’s face turned pale.
Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. She remembered seeing a maid named Suiyun on Zhufu Street a few days ago. At the time, she had wondered why the maid was there. Now it was clear—she must have been meeting Huo Jue on behalf of Miss Xue.
-
When Jiang Li returned home, she sat at her desk, troubled. Taking out a piece of paper, she wrote down her name and Xue Zhen’s side by side.
Under the category of family background, she marked herself with an “X” and Xue Zhen with a “○.”
She continued down the list, marking several more “X”s for herself and “○”s for Xue Zhen.
Finally, she reached the category of appearance. With trembling hands, she gave herself the first “○.”
But even that small consolation failed to lift her spirits.
Frustrated, Jiang Li folded the paper and stuffed it into her practice book. Resting her chin on the desk, she sighed heavily.
The once-spirited young lady now seemed as wilted as a frost-bitten eggplant.
She had finally caught up to Huo Jue, bridging the gap between them after so much effort.
And yet, after just a month, was she about to lose him?
If Huo Jue truly didn’t want to be her child husband, Jiang Li thought bitterly, she couldn’t bring herself to blame him. Not really.
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