Crying bitterly in an emotional embrace? Before she could even sort out her own feelings, Qiu Huan was already stung to the core by her brother’s single word—“Huan’er”—leaving not a shred of emotion behind.

The six of them casually found a small restaurant for a meal, again requesting a private room. Duan Yunhe and Yuan Qian sat on either side of Qiu Huan.

“Huan’er, how have you been lately? I heard from Yuan Qian that you’ve opened a shop—can you keep up with all the work?” As soon as Qiu Huan’s brother took his seat, instead of introducing himself and Shang Rong and Duan Yunhe, he immediately asked about his sister’s recent situation.

Miss Duan had already guessed that this was Qiu Huan’s elder brother, leaving only Shang Rong completely baffled. Qiu Huan could only sigh in exasperation and introduce the two to Shang Rong: “This is my elder brother, Ming Zhen.” Then she turned to Yuan Qian: “And this is my maid, Yuan Qian.” So Shang Rong and Duan Yunhe each introduced themselves as well.

Upon hearing this, Ming Zhen smiled, gently shook his head, and adopted a humble demeanor, as if he hadn’t just ignored the two of them moments ago. “My courtesy name is Fengju. These past years I haven’t been by Huan’er’s side, so I’m afraid I’ve had to rely on both of you to look after her. In fact, it’s really me who should be saying thank you.” The two naturally replied, “Not at all.”

As they were talking, the waiter came in. Ming Zhen ordered several dishes with practiced ease, and Duan Yunhe curiously asked Qiu Huan, “Is Yuan Qian related to Yuan Mo?” Qiu Huan shook her head and replied, “Yuan Qian’s name was changed later; she didn’t used to go by that name.”

Miss Duan nodded knowingly and said softly, “Fengze, your brother is quite handsome—though the two of you don’t really look alike.” Qiu Huan remained noncommittal and countered with, “Even more handsome than when I dress as a man?” Duan Yunhe was momentarily taken aback and didn’t know how to respond, but Qiu Huan burst into laughter.

Still, to be fair, Ming Zhen really did have striking good looks; in terms of appearance alone, no one at the table was more attractive than him.

Once the dishes were served, Qiu Huan unsurprisingly found that most of what was on the table was exactly to her taste. She said nothing, and the six of them promptly began eating.

When everyone was about halfway through their meal, the restaurant lobby suddenly grew lively. Ming Zhen called over the waiter, whose expression looked rather odd: “Just now, a warrior was carried in from outside—the wound on his abdomen was huge—and he’s being rushed to the clinic. It seems a white tiger has appeared in the nearby Bamboo Grove, and that warrior was attacked by the beast.”

“A white tiger?” Qiu Huan’s eyes lit up instantly. She already had a black tiger skin, which made a great cushion; if she could get a white tiger skin as well…

Seeing the strange atmosphere among the six people and noticing that the speaker was a woman who hardly seemed like someone from the martial world, the waiter didn’t say another word. Ming Zhen thought the young man was very perceptive and waved him away.

Qiu Huan didn’t take it to heart; since the news had spread so widely, it must be pretty close to the truth, and she suddenly felt eager to give it a try. But then the person across the table, who had been chatting cheerfully just moments before, threw in a dampener: “Huan’er, I couldn’t keep an eye on you while I was away, so please don’t even think about going after that tiger. If you want one, I’ll get it for you.”

“…Brother, could you stop calling me ‘Huan’er’?” Qiu Huan said her first words to Ming Zhen since they’d met, her face full of helplessness.

Ming Zhen readily agreed: “Then ‘Huan’mei’?”

Qiu Huan glared at him, knowing full well how stubborn he was, and gave up. “Fine, whatever you want.”

Now that the first sentence had been said, the rest came easily. Although she’d acted very natural earlier, deep down she still felt a bit awkward about meeting her sworn brother after a year and a half apart—otherwise she wouldn’t have kept silent this whole time.

That’s right: Qiu Huan and Ming Zhen weren’t related by blood. Strictly speaking, they weren’t even sworn siblings. Qiu Huan’s adoptive father was Ming Zhen’s master, but during the nearly seventeen years they lived together, the two always referred to each other as brother and sister.

As they got up to leave after the meal, Ming Zhen’s jade pendant brushed against the table. Duan Yunhe happened to glance at the pendant and thought the carving was rather crude, completely out of place with Ming Zhen’s lavish robes. He then turned to Qiu Huan and proudly showed off the ornament he’d just bought. Shang Rong, seeing how easygoing Ming Zhen was, tentatively complained a bit about his sister. Yuan Mo and Yuan Qian fell behind, walking in silence the whole way.

The market was located closer to the back alleys of the red-light district, near the Jade Hall, so they first dropped Shang Rong off at his beloved shop.

Passing by Windflower Street, they saw the “Tofu Beauty” selling freshly ground tofu, and Qiu Huan suddenly felt an itch to try some, so she asked Yuan Mo to buy a piece. After thinking about how to prepare it, she even went out of her way to pick up some other ingredients.

The reception room in the backyard of Frost Forest Garden.

On a teak carving of a dragon-shaped table sits an exquisitely crafted green-glazed pot, housing several lush white-flowered snake-tongue plants, with a snow-country landscape painting hanging above. On the floor are two rows of eight nanmu chairs—this is Frost Forest Garden’s most formal room. However, such “luxury” is nothing special in a place like this, where all sorts of people—from the lowliest commoners to the most ruthless criminals, wandering martial artists, or wealthy families who can’t—or won’t—stay under the rule of the king—are gathered. For the latter, Frost Forest Garden’s level of decor is simply shabby.

When Ming Zhen entered the shop and took a quick look around, she noticed that Qiu Huan’s habits hadn’t changed much from a year and a half ago, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. But upon seeing the calligraphy reading “Clear Sounds Echo in the Empty Valley,” she quickly composed herself. Miss Duan, on the other hand, had been anxious yesterday and hadn’t examined things closely; and today, walking in through the main entrance with Shang Rong, a complete stranger, she didn’t dare be too forward. Now, after carefully observing everything, she was truly amazed. She’d grown up in wealth and privilege; though her family wasn’t extravagant, they would always choose the best quality over the second-rate. Moreover, she was not only her father’s late-in-life daughter but also the only girl among a string of boys, so she’d been pampered since childhood, living in luxury and sweetness, and had seen every kind of scene imaginable. Yet the arrangement here at Qiu Huan’s place was neither truly luxurious nor downright dilapidated—it was oddly mixed, revealing quirks everywhere. Thinking it over, whether it was the furniture or the decorations, everything seemed tailored to her tastes: whatever was convenient was done, completely disregarding traditional customs and public opinion—exactly in line with the personality of the owner of Frost Forest Garden.

End of Chapter 5: Old Friends and New Rain