They welcomed him through the gates and treated him as an honored guest. Bai Jinghuai expressed his gratitude with solemn sincerity. “Many thanks for your assistance, my lord. If not for you, we might not be sitting safely in our home right now.”
Ning Yan was never one for these formalities, but since it was the Bai family, he refrained from showing his impatience. Still, his gaze drifted idly around the room—clearly distracted—and when he didn’t see Bai Qingqing, his eyes quietly returned to the table. “I was merely acting on someone’s request,” he said coolly.
He sat down with ease. “Miss Bai happened to run into me that day and asked for help. Since we’re acquainted, it was only natural for me to oblige.”
“Ah… Lord Ning is truly… a man of noble heart,” Bai Jinghuai murmured, not entirely sure what he was saying anymore. Since Ning Yan had taken the initiative to mention Qingqing, by all rights she should come out and greet him.
But something about the whole situation didn’t sit right. Of the three things Ning Yan had said since entering the residence, two were about Qingqing. Bai Yan, standing to the side, had a glint in his eye as he glanced toward his father. While sending someone to fetch Bai Qingqing, he leaned in quietly, his voice barely audible. “Father… do you think he might be interested in Qingqing?”
Bai Jinghuai was silent for a beat before shaking his head. That couldn’t be it. He knew his own daughter—surely someone like Ning Yan wouldn’t be fond of such a delicate, pampered girl.
Not long after, Bai Qingqing arrived. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Ning Yan. After making her greeting, she sat down beside him, tilted her head, and with an eager expression began pushing a plate of pastries toward him. “This one isn’t too sweet. Our kitchen maid is especially good at these. They’re not as refined as the ones at Yanlai Pavilion, but the flavor is wonderful. Try it.”
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Bai Jinghuai was alarmed. Was Qingqing speaking a little too casually with Ning Yan?
Ning Yan glanced at her, his slender fingers leisurely picking up a piece of pastry she had pushed toward him. He popped it into his mouth, then reached for a napkin and wiped his fingertips.
Bai Qingqing looked at him expectantly. “Well? How is it?”
“Hey, I’ll take that. ‘Acceptable’ is already not bad.”
She chuckled to herself, as if she’d received high praise, then reached for a teacup to take a sip.
But just as she stretched out her hand, Ning Yan suddenly caught her wrist, his fingers prying hers open. His brows knit slightly. “Still not healed? Why haven’t you been applying the medicine properly?”
Several long, shallow cuts crisscrossed her soft palm, looking especially jarring against her fair skin. She let him hold her hand without resistance, but defended herself earnestly, “I have been using the medicine. Every day. It’s only been a few days—how could it heal that fast? If you don’t believe me, ask Zidai.”
Zidai, standing quietly behind her, jolted. She looked up only to find Ning Yan actually turning to glance at her. Terrified, she nodded so hard it looked like her head might come off. Only after his gaze shifted away did she sneakily pat her chest—what a terrifying man.
Bai Qingqing tapped the back of his hand with her free hand. “Let go. I want to drink.”
She tapped once, twice, and each time, Bai Yan felt his heart lurch with it. Ning Yan finally released her wrist, but habitually rubbed the spot a couple times. “I wasn’t rough. Don’t blame me if it turns red again.”
Bai Yan: …Again? Why again?
Questions piled up in his mind, practically bursting from his forehead, but his sister remained blissfully unaware, sipping her tea in small, unhurried mouthfuls, not the least bit conscious that she was sitting beside the Commander of the Embroidered Guards.
Bai Yan shifted his body slightly, leaned toward Bai Jinghuai, and whispered so softly it barely stirred the air, “Father… could it be that he…”
Bai Jinghuai stepped on his foot under the table. Absolutely not. Don’t say nonsense.