Pacing back and forth, Duan Yunhe kicked a pebble aside as she wandered unhappily in the front courtyard of Shuanglin Garden.

Just moments ago, she had parted ways with Zhao Erhan on bad terms. Or rather, Zhao Erhan had been gently urging her to return home—or at least keep her distance from Qiu Huan—both suggestions she found hard to bear. In a fit of anger, she turned and walked away.

“Just who could have poisoned me and caused all this trouble!” she fumed inwardly. If she hadn’t been poisoned, she wouldn’t have contacted the Gao Yang Imperial Palace; and if she hadn’t contacted the palace, Zhao Erhan naturally wouldn’t have known where she was. So now even the one who’d poisoned her seemed to be implicated in the whole affair.

In truth, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Zhao Erhan. Even before, she’d never quite managed the relationship between them, and she still had no idea how to move forward. But when she saw Zhao Erhan personally rush to Wushu to deliver medicinal herbs for her that day, it would be impossible to say that Duan Yunhe felt not the slightest bit of warmth or joy.

Yet at the end of the day, she was still a noble lady. No matter how captivated she might be by the dream world, the reality was that the life she lived simply did not allow her to act on a whim. She wasn’t like Qiu Huan—alone and without ties, strong in body and spirit, and self-sufficient in every way. Her marriage, and her future as a whole, were not something she could control. All she could do was try her best—and for now, that meant she hadn’t yet become Zhao Erhan’s concubine. Should the Gao Yang Wang one day issue an imperial edict appointing her as such, whether as a concubine or as the wife of some stranger, she would have no room to resist.

Thinking of all this, Duan Yunhe’s frustration boiled over, and she paced restlessly in the front courtyard like a caged beast.

“Miss Yunhe.” Shang Rong appeared out of nowhere. Duan Yunhe, lost in her own thoughts, hadn’t even heard his footsteps and jumped in surprise.

“!—It’s you!” For a moment, she almost thought she was being attacked by a lecher.

Shang Rong gave her a curious look.

“This girl is clearly a young lady of high birth—why is she always so easily startled? Isn’t graceful conduct second nature to a young lady of the inner quarters?”

But he quickly dismissed the thought. He himself had plenty on his mind and no time to worry about Duan Yunhe’s manners.

“Why are you wandering around here instead of going to the main hall to entertain guests?” Just now, as he entered through the front door, he’d happened to see a guest leave because no one was there to receive him. The guest had even advised him not to go inside, saying the shopkeeper wasn’t around.

Hearing this, Duan Yunhe looked rather dazed: “Oh? Entertain guests?”

Seeing her reaction, Shang Rong was equally baffled: “Yes.”

“Oh, I see. Entertaining guests, right? I’ll go right away.” Duan Yunhe’s gaze remained blank for a moment before she finally remembered that she was now the manager of Shuanglin Garden, and slowly nodded.

Shang Rong was speechless. One after another, they really didn’t seem to take the business of Shuanglin Garden seriously at all—what kind of shop was this, anyway!

Oh yes, it all started when she was accompanying Qiu Huan everywhere. Back then, she casually mentioned that her family used to be merchants, and that once things settled down, they might start trading again. It was only then that she suddenly got the idea to open a jam shop in Xinxiang.

What a strange bunch of people they were, all gathered together.

Today he’d come specifically to discuss something with Qiu Huan, but instead of finding the main person, he ran into Ming Zhen sitting brazenly in the back courtyard’s parlor, sipping tea as if it were nectar itself.

“Brother Fengze, do you happen to know where Qiu Fengze is?” After exchanging a brief greeting, Shang Rong asked about Qiu Huan’s whereabouts.

Ming Zhen didn’t even look at him, continuing to hold the teacup and wearing a faint, almost imperceptible smile that made him look downright eerie.

“Of course I do.”

“…” Then why didn’t you just tell me straight away? Shang Rong thought to himself. Over the past couple of days, his impression of Ming Zhen had steadily deteriorated. He couldn’t help feeling that Ming Zhen treated others as if they were beneath him. It wasn’t exactly arrogance—more like he simply didn’t consider other people his equals. In his eyes, it was hard to find anyone he could truly look eye-to-eye with.

End of Chapter 26: The Veil of Hidden Concerns