It has been many days since we last met, and I have missed you dearly.

Gu Fei had just stepped into the Gu residence when Mo Yuhua followed closely behind. He watched her silhouette disappear through the gates, his handsome face clouded with inscrutable thoughts. A vague suspicion lingered in his heart, and recalling Mo Cheng’s reaction earlier, he found his emotions tangled and difficult to unravel.

“Oh, Young Master Mo, what brings you here?” A servant recognized Mo Yuhua and hurried forward to greet him with a bow.

Mo Yuhua returned to himself, the corners of his mouth lifting habitually into a refined, courteous smile. With a gentle nod, he replied, “I was passing by and thought I’d visit Wanting.”

With those words, he entered the gate, lifting his robe as he proceeded into the residence. The servant, usually just a gatekeeper, had always considered Mo Yuhua the future son-in-law of the house and was eager to curry favor. Thus, he made no attempt to stop him, but instead said enthusiastically, “Take your time, Young Master Mo. The eldest miss has been staying in her chambers these past few days and hasn’t gone out. I imagine she must be waiting for you.”

At this, Mo Yuhua’s lips curled in a faint, polite smile—the very picture of a gracious young lord. The Gu residence was a familiar place to him. He passed through the screen wall, walked along the eaves, and when he found himself alone, he paused, lost in thought. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned and headed for the secluded Qingmo Courtyard.

Qingmo Courtyard was situated in a remote corner of the estate. Owing to Gu Fei’s awkward position in the family, few cared to visit this area; thus, Mo Yuhua encountered not a single servant on his way, which made him frown and feel a surge of displeasure toward the main branch of the Gu family.

In the courtyard, Gu Fei was arranging the ink pellets she’d recently made. Whether good or flawed, she lined them up one by one. To an untrained eye, the uniform ink pellets were indistinguishable, but Gu Fei only had to take a sniff to tell them all apart.

These ink pellets were the failed and imperfect products from her attempts at crafting scented ink. Their fragrance and color varied subtly, but to Gu Fei, none were worthy of display.

She spread white paper before her, dipped her brush in ink, and began with the first pellet, adjusting the proportions from the original recipe. She moved on to the second pellet, repeating the process. Soon, the white sheet was filled with dense black characters, some large, some small, with notes and amendments crowding the page.

When she reached the last pellet, Gu Fei’s brows knitted. She took a fresh sheet and carefully copied the revised formula onto it. At last, she gazed at the recipe for a long while, picking up and putting down her brush in hesitation before finally settling the formula for her scented ink.

As for whether this latest recipe would succeed, she would still need to make another batch and observe the results once the pellets were formed.

Mo Yuhua lingered at the entrance of Qingmo Courtyard for some time, shadows falling upon him, casting his figure in shifting shades of black, gray, and white. His gaze was intent, tracing Gu Fei’s features and finally settling on her half-lowered eyes. The more he looked, the more she resembled a face from his memories.

“Noble Young Master Mo?” Granny Ku, who had been busy elsewhere, caught sight of Mo Yuhua’s tall, upright figure as soon as she returned. Startled, her tone wary, she asked, “Do you need something?”

Mo Yuhua cast her a casual glance and nodded perfunctorily.

Gu Fei, of course, had heard them, but she did not even lift her head. Only her hand, gripping the brush, trembled slightly, causing a drop of ink to spatter and stain the white paper.

Mo Yuhua stepped into the courtyard. Unhurried, Gu Fei covered the formula-laden paper with a clean sheet, dipped her brush again, and began to transcribe the ancient Buddhist scripture, the Diamond Sutra, known for cultivating the mind and spirit.

“Ah Fei,” Mo Yuhua called, lips parting slightly, his teeth just grazing his lower lip, his tone gentle and tinged with longing. “Such dedication. Still, do you really need so many ink pellets just to write?”

Gu Fei paused, resting her brush on the stand. She looked up at Mo Yuhua, her expression blank. “It’s a personal preference, that’s all. Otherwise, what does Young Master Mo imagine it to be?”

Mo Yuhua chuckled softly, his eyes searching her features for a trace of the familiar girl from years past. Yet he said, “I thought you were testing the ink. I saw you examining each pellet so carefully.”

Knowing she could not hide it, Gu Fei admitted frankly, “You could say that.”

At that moment, Granny Ku brought out a round, embroidered stool, eyed Mo Yuhua with uncertainty, then, still uneasy, retreated to the kitchen to prepare tea.

Mo Yuhua made himself at home, as if he were in his own house. He lifted his robe, sat down squarely, and gestured with a welcoming hand. “Continue, Ah Fei. I’ll simply watch. I won’t disturb you.”

Gu Fei couldn’t help but feel that something was strange about Mo Yuhua today. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but her gaze burned into him as she spoke, word by word, “If you have something to say, Young Master Mo, then please say it plainly. Otherwise, I am an unmarried woman and it is not proper for you to linger. I imagine my elder sister must be anxiously looking for you by now…”

She had not finished her sentence when—

Mo Yuhua snapped open his folding fan, waving it nonchalantly as a stray lock of hair brushed his temple. “No,” he said, “I am here specifically to see you, Ah Fei. I have missed you these many days. And besides, no one saw me come in just now—few ever visit this part of the estate. Who would dare to gossip? Here in Yizhou, I at least have that much influence. So, Ah Fei, there is no need for you to worry. Just pretend I am not here.”

At these words, Gu Fei finally recognized where the strange feeling in her heart came from. The usual Mo Yuhua would never speak so boldly or with such levity. Yet the Mo Yuhua before her was not only acting out of character but was openly expressing his interest in her.

She fixed her unblinking gaze on him, scrutinizing every nuance of his expression. After a long pause, she said, “If you have intentions, Young Master, it is better to speak them plainly, than to leave us both guessing.”

Mo Yuhua slowly closed his fan, his smile fading with it. “I hear that Madam Gu—the eldest madam, Wanting’s mother—has decided that, to compensate for Wanting’s difficulty in bearing children, she will choose one among you sisters to marry me as well. What are your thoughts on this, Ah Fei?”

Hearing this, Gu Fei’s heart grew heavy. A faint, waterweed-like smile drifted across her pale face. “That is a question you should ask my elder sister, Young Master. I am just a cripple, unable to walk properly. How could I know such things…”

Mo Yuhua waved his hand, interrupting her once more. “You misunderstand me, Ah Fei. What I mean is—”

He leaned closer, holding his closed fan upright beside his lips. Shadows deepened across his handsome face, giving him the air of a beast lurking beneath a splendid flower, touched with a hint of wickedness and darkness. “Would you be willing to come to the Mo household?”

His unusually large, dark eyes locked onto her, reflecting a misty, abyssal chill. Gu Fei heard herself reply in a voice as cold as ice, “Willing? Young Master must be jesting. For a proper young lady, all decisions rest with her parents’ command. Where is there room to speak of willingness?”

With these words, she could not fathom Mo Yuhua’s true intentions. Thus, she adopted a defensive stance, raising her guard and turning over every possible meaning his words might contain.