Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Rose

Bian He grew even more embarrassed seeing her like this. “Qingqing, this really has nothing to do with you.”

“It’s me and Sisi who are at fault—we didn’t prepare the ginger.”

Lan Qing still shook her head. “It’s my mistake.”

Yan Ningsi couldn’t bear to watch any longer. “Qingqing, don’t blame yourself. It’s clearly our fault—mine and Bian He’s.”

“All right, let’s leave it at that. If we keep fussing, the vegetables will go cold.” Yan Ningsi eyed the cooked fish, thought for a moment, then tilted her head to look at Lan Qing. “If we put it back in the pot and add ginger slices this time, would that work?”

“It should be fine,” Lan Qing hesitated, “though the flavor may change a little.”

“Let’s cook it again, then.” Yan Ningsi couldn’t bear to waste the fish.

With that, Yan Ningsi picked up two plates of fish and headed to the kitchen.

Bian He saw Lan Qing about to get up and quickly stopped her. “Just wait here.”

“Sisi and I will handle it.” Bian He even asked if adding just the ginger slices would suffice.

Lan Qing nodded. “Yes, nothing else needs to be added.”

“All right,” Bian He replied, “leave the rest to us.”

Shen Jin also prevented Lan Qing from getting up. “Let them take care of it.”

“But isn’t that improper?” Lan Qing was still hesitating. “I said I’d be responsible for dinner.”

“How could we have known…” Lan Qing trailed off.

Shen Jin’s heart ached even more seeing her like this. “It’s not your fault.”

“You don’t cook often, and being able to prepare a whole table of delicious dishes is already impressive.” Shen Jin soothed her gently, his tone soft and warm. “Let Yan Ningsi and Bian He handle the rest.”

He lowered his voice further. “Besides, they haven’t done much yet.”

“This…” Lan Qing’s dewy eyes blinked, and under Shen Jin’s gaze, she reluctantly agreed.

The viewers in the livestream room noticed nothing amiss; instead, they found the atmosphere between the two delightfully sweet, so much so that they wished they could push their heads together and make them kiss.

[This atmosphere is wonderful!]
[I want to bring over the marriage registry office.]
[I’m so anxious, just kiss already!]
[Isn’t this moving a bit too fast?]

Passersby who knew nothing of the situation and only watched the livestream felt Lan Qing and Shen Jin’s relationship was progressing at rocket speed.

So some fans came out to explain, dragging Sang Yijia in as a scapegoat.

But Sang Yijia knew nothing of this; after dinner with Lu Wenchuan, she walked along Top Scholar Street with a large bouquet of roses in her arms.

At night, Top Scholar Street was aglow with colorful lights—the entire 506 meters framed by neon, vibrant and dazzling, with lanterns hanging overhead.

Stepping onto the street felt like entering a river of history. In that moment, they seemed to be strolling through an ancient dynasty, wandering the night alongside people from a thousand years ago.

Lu Wenchuan watched the couples ahead, each pair hand in hand or arm in arm. Glancing at Sang Yijia beside him, he wanted to hold her hand, but found both of hers full with the bouquet.

“The director just said we need to reach the top floor of the ancient pagoda,” Sang Yijia said, cradling the vivid red roses in her arms. Her fair face looked even more delicate under their brilliant hue.

“All right.” Lu Wenchuan’s fingertips itched. “Isn’t carrying the flowers tiring?”

“It’s fine.” Such a large bouquet—Sang Yijia had never received one in her past life. Or rather, before entering the novel, her focus was entirely on work, with no thoughts for romance.

She needed money—lots of it—to repair the orphanage and provide a better life for its children.

Before entering the novel, Sang Yijia wanted so much that she could only bury herself in work, day and night.

Never did she imagine she’d open her eyes and find herself inside a novel. Life is unpredictable; no one knows what the next moment will bring.

“Holding these flowers makes me happy.” Sang Yijia lowered her head to inhale their fragrance, then lifted her face to Lu Wenchuan, her eyes and smile gentle and warm.

Lu Wenchuan didn’t offer to help again.

The two walked quietly down Top Scholar Street, heading toward the ancient pagoda.

Along the way, whenever Sang Yijia saw something novel or amusing, Lu Wenchuan bought it for her.

Here, there was no need to spend the production team’s money—it all came from Lu Wenchuan.

Sang Yijia was a little surprised, but accepted everything happily. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lu Wenchuan replied with a faint smile. Looking up at the pagoda looming ahead, he wondered what surprise Wei Heng had prepared for them.

——

Elsewhere, in the farmhouse courtyard, Lan Qing and the others finally finished dinner. After dividing up the dishwashing, they cleared the table, then moved everything outside to the yard to admire the moon.

Yan Ningsi swatted another mosquito. “The moonlight’s lovely, but the mosquitoes are relentless.”

“Bian He’s gone out to buy mosquito repellent—he’ll be back soon.” Lan Qing hadn’t been bitten much, but Yan Ningsi had suffered greatly.

Yan Ningsi’s arms were covered in bites. There was even one in the center of her forehead, which looked quite comical.

“When will Bian He be back?” Shen Jin returned with a plate of fruit—brought back from the hospital by Lan Qing that morning.

“It’s only now you start missing Bian He,” Shen Jin teased. He had no particular thoughts about Yan Ningsi—partly because singers tended to be demanding, and partly because she wasn’t his type.

Yan Ningsi huffed, “I’m not missing him.”

“You all just didn’t notice,” she said, swatting at another mosquito.

Bian He returned, carrying a large bag. “I bought everything: mosquito coils, electric racquet, and repellent liquid.”

“Tonight there will be no mosquitoes!” Bian He entered and finally saw Yan Ningsi’s appearance. After a pause, he couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

“Little Sisi, do you know?” Bian He urged the camera closer. “Get a good shot.”

“Her fans will thank me for this.”

Yan Ningsi covered her face. “Bian He, what are you trying to do?”

Yet her embarrassment was still caught on camera.

[These mosquitoes are something else.]
[Hahahaha.]
[I thought there was only one on her forehead, but there’s one on each cheek too.]
[Too funny.]
[Thank you, Hehe!]

Soon, the comments were flooded with thanks for Bian He.

When Yan Ningsi was told, she simply gave up, lowered her hands, and said, “Watch all you like, it’s no big deal.”

Bian He, having laughed enough, sat beside her. He was about to take ointment from the bag when a thought struck him. He narrowed his eyes with a smile and said to Yan Ningsi, “You should really thank me for this.”

“What?” Yan Ningsi grunted in confusion.

“Isn’t Sang Yijia’s family doctor still here?” Bian He folded his arms, grinning. “And aren’t you interested in Zhuang Fei?”

“Ask him what to do about mosquito bites—they’ll definitely give you some ointment.” As Bian He watched Yan Ningsi’s eyes grow brighter, something suddenly tightened in his chest, a strange and indescribable feeling.