Su Xingyu had been staying at the Old Family Residence for a week.

During that week, Fu Yanqing went out early and came home late every day, deliberately avoiding any chance of running into her. It wasn’t that he disliked her; it was simply that he wasn’t used to it—the Old Family Residence hadn’t seen an outsider in decades, and suddenly there was a cheerful, talkative young woman living there. He didn’t know how to handle it.

But some changes were impossible to ignore.

For example, on the third morning, when he went downstairs for breakfast, he found an extra bowl of soup on the table. The broth was clear and bright, dotted with wolfberries and red dates, and next to it lay a note that read: “Aunt Zhou said you haven’t been sleeping well, so I made this to calm your nerves. When you’re done, don’t forget to compliment me. — Su Xingyu.”

He stared at the note for ten seconds before finishing the soup.

It tasted surprisingly good.

On the fourth evening, for instance, he returned home early and heard laughter coming from the garden as he walked down the hallway. On a whim, he turned the corner and stood behind a pillar, watching—

Su Xingyu was crouching by the flower bed, chatting with Old Gardener Chen Bo. Chen Bo was in his sixties, with poor legs and feet, and had worked at the estate for most of his life. Usually quiet and reserved, he rarely spoke much to anyone.

Yet now he was actually laughing.

“Mr. Chen, please sit still—don’t move! My acupuncture technique is handed down through my family; I wouldn’t use it on just anyone,” Su Xingyu said, pulling a row of silver needles from her old cloth bag. In the setting sun, the needles glinted faintly.

Chen Bo looked a bit nervous: “Miss, will this really work?”

“Whether it works or not, you’ll know once you try it! And it’s free, anyway.” She smiled cheerfully as she inserted the needles, her movements quick yet steady. “If I accidentally hurt you, I’ll even pay for both your legs!”

Chen Bo couldn’t help but laugh, and his laughter echoed far and wide through the old house.

Fu Yanqing stood behind the pillar, watching her focused profile. When she was needling, she stopped smiling; her lips were slightly pursed, and her eyes shone with an almost uncanny intensity, as if she were doing something profoundly important.

Half an hour later, Chen Bo stood up and took a few steps—then froze.

“Does it not hurt anymore?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore!” Chen Bo exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise. “Miss, my leg… for over ten years, this is the first time it hasn’t hurt!”

Su Xingyu clapped her hands and stood up, her eyes crinkling into crescents as she laughed. “That’s wonderful. I’ll come back at the same time tomorrow to reinforce the treatment.”

“But… how could I possibly accept such a thing…”

“Why shouldn’t you? You’ve spent your whole life working here—what a meritorious service! Meritorious people deserve good rewards, don’t they?”

Chen Bo’s eyes welled up, and he rubbed his rough hands, speechless.

Fu Yanqing turned and walked away, his footsteps light, as if afraid of disturbing anything.

On the fifth day, Aunt Zhou began humming a tune in the kitchen.

Fu Yanqing stood in the doorway, watching the scene. Aunt Zhou had worked at the estate for more than twenty years, ever since his parents were still alive. After his parents passed away, she was the only one who had never looked at him with pity or disdain.

Yet he had never heard her hum before.

“Aunt Zhou, what are you so happy about?”

Aunt Zhou turned around, her wrinkles smoothing out as she smiled. “Young Master, Miss Xingyu taught me a nourishing soup recipe—she said it’s especially good for women going through menopause. I tried it last night, and I slept so well today, right through to morning!”

As she spoke, she added another handful of wolfberries to the pot, muttering to herself, “This girl is really interesting. She said the recipe came all the way from Xiangxi, and even talked to me about ‘medicine and food sharing the same origin’… As a cook, what would I know about such things? But she explained it so clearly that I just believed her.”

Fu Yanqing said nothing, only staring at the bubbling soup in the pot.

“Oh, by the way,” Aunt Zhou suddenly lowered her voice, “Young Master, haven’t you noticed… something different about this house lately?”

“What do you mean, different?”

“I can’t quite put it into words,” Aunt Zhou mused, “It’s just… brighter. Before, this old house always felt so gloomy and cold, but now it seems like there’s light everywhere.”

Fu Yanqing didn’t answer, but he knew exactly what Aunt Zhou was talking about.

He felt it too.

On the sixth day, Fu Yanqing unexpectedly returned home early.

It wasn’t intentional. After the meeting ended, his car somehow turned onto the road leading back to the Old Family Residence. Only when he pulled up at the gate did he realize what he’d done.

Well, since he was already here, he might as well go in.

When he entered the house, Su Xingyu was crouching in the entryway, changing her shoes, a lollipop dangling from her mouth. She froze when she saw him.

“How come you’re back so early?”

“I just finished the meeting.” His gaze fell on a plastic bag at her feet. “Are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’m heading to the supermarket. Aunt Zhou said we’re out of soy sauce.”

“Have the driver go.”

“No, it’s just a few steps. I’ll go myself.”

With that, she stepped out the door, her ponytail swinging behind her.

Fu Yanqing stood in the entryway, watching her figure fade into the twilight, and remained there for a long while before finally turning around and going inside.

He went upstairs to change clothes, then stood by the study window, where he could see the road outside the front gate. The sky grew dark, and the streetlights lit up one by one.

He waited ten minutes.

Then another ten.

Twenty minutes later, Su Xingyu appeared at the intersection. She was carrying a large bag in her left hand and holding a cotton candy in her right, eating as she walked and chatting with a stray cat by the roadside.

End of Chapter 13: Subtle Changes