Only after a moment did realization settle into Zhou Rai's eyes.
That boy—
She had seen him before.
Not long ago. At the tavern.
The memory surfaced quietly, unforced. The brief disturbance. The ordinary setting. And him—standing there, calm amidst tension, his presence understated yet impossible to ignore.
Lee Kai.
She remembered now.
At the time, she had taken no special note of his name, only the impression he left behind. Back then, she had not looked twice. Tonight, however, that same presence felt different—clearer, sharper, as though revealed under proper light.
Their gazes met once more.
Not abruptly.
Not deliberately.
Just long enough to confirm awareness.
Then, almost instinctively, both looked away.
No words were exchanged.
No expression lingered.
The moment passed as naturally as it had come.
Around them, the gathering continued, voices overlapping as attention gradually shifted back to the paintings. Discussion stirred once more, quieter now, more cautious.
It was then that Kai heard it.
A conversation—unintended, unguarded—spoken by those standing nearby.
"Did you hear? That was Rai."
"Zhou Rai."
"No wonder. Her insight has always been exceptional."
Kai's steps stilled.
Rai.
The name settled into his thoughts with unexpected weight.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to confirm what his mind had already grasped.
The girl he had noticed.
The girl whose gaze had met his.
The girl he had come here to see—
Was her.
For a brief moment, the calm he carried so naturally wavered.
Surprise surfaced first—clear, unhidden.
Then something else followed, gentler but unmistakable.
Relief.
And beneath it, a quiet, genuine happiness.
It showed.
For once, his expression betrayed him. Anyone watching could see it plainly: the shift in his eyes, the subtle softening of his features, the restrained emotion no longer fully concealed.
Kai himself did not try to suppress it.
He simply stood there, looking toward her once more—this time with understanding.
Around them, discussion slowly returned to the unresolved matter.
Only one set painting remained.
The last.
And soon, all attention would turn to it.
Confusion spread through the courtyard.
The final set of paintings stood before them, yet no one could speak with certainty. One after another, the voices that had earlier been so confident now fell silent. No matter how long they stared, no matter how much they debated, they could not tell which among them was real.
Whispers rose. Doubt crept in.
Then, from among a small group of girls, one figure stepped forward.
She studied the paintings carefully, her gaze moving from one scroll to the next with quiet focus. After a moment, she spoke, pointing out the differences she had observed.
"One has soft strokes, but the colors are sharp."
"Another has sharp strokes—and sharp colors."
"And the last has sharp strokes as well, but the colors have faded slightly."
It was Rai.
Her voice was calm, measured, and confident. As she explained further, clarity returned to the gathering.
"The second appears impressive at first glance," she said, "but the painter lacks sufficient experience. The execution is forced."
She shifted her gaze.
"The third has faded colors, and its sharpness is lacking."
Finally, she gestured toward the first.
"The first painting shows experience. The strokes are controlled, elegant. This one is the real piece."
The courtyard erupted.
Exclamations rang out, praise flowing freely as heads nodded in agreement. Once again, admiration gathered around her from all sides.
Lee San and Kai both looked toward her, surprise flickering briefly across their expressions.
Rai accepted the praise with quiet composure, though a faint smile touched her lips. After all—she was human. Praise, when sincere, could still warm the heart.
Then—
A voice cut through the noise.
"I don't agree."
The words were calm, clear, and unmistakable.
The courtyard stilled.
Kai stepped forward.
A faint smile rested on his face—not mocking, not arrogant. If anything, it carried a trace of amusement, as though he were entertained by a thought only he knew. For a brief moment, his mind wandered.
What would her reaction be when she learned who he was?
Would she be surprised?
Or angry—that even knowing it was her, he chose to oppose her?
The thought lingered as he came to a stop.
Mr. Luo raised an eyebrow.
Rai's explanation had been nearly flawless. He had not expected anyone to challenge it—yet this young man had.
Mr. Luo leaned slightly toward Lee San and spoke in a low voice. "Good eyes. Very observant."
Lee San only smiled faintly.
Kai spoke again, his tone respectful but firm. "Miss, you are right about your observations. Every detail you mentioned is accurate."
He paused.
"But I don't believe you've identified the real painting."
The reaction was immediate.
Bewilderment flashed across faces. Some frowned. Others scoffed outright. A few of the young men who had moments earlier been eager to flatter Rai seized the opportunity, their expressions sharp with disdain.
"Who does he think he is?"
"Where did this country bumpkin come from?"
"How did someone like him even get invited here?"
The murmurs grew louder.
Kai listened in silence.
Then he spoke again.
"Your vision is sharp," he said calmly. "But observation alone has limited your conclusion."
He turned slightly toward the paintings.
"The second is exactly as you said—technically sound, but lacking depth."
Disdain erupted.
More voices rose, accusing him of nonsense, dismissing his words outright.
Still, Kai did not react.
After a moment, he continued.
"The first painting appears real. In fact, it appears perfect."
He let the words settle before adding, quietly, "But don't you find that strange?"
Some laughed openly now.
"It looks too new," Kai said. "For a painting meant to be old."
The mockery intensified.
Kai fell silent.
That was when something clicked.
Rai stepped forward, her earlier certainty wavering. She moved closer to the paintings, studying them again—this time with different eyes.
Her expression shifted.
The first painting, as Kai had said, did not bear the weight of time it should have.
Her gaze moved.
The third painting, though faded, seemed too old—its wear excessive for the period it was meant to represent.
Her brows furrowed.
Without realizing it, she murmured softly, "Then…"
Her voice carried.
"All of them are fake."
The courtyard gasped.
Shock rippled through the gathering.
Mr. Luo stood.
Laughter escaped him, rich and genuine. "Excellent," he said, his gaze resting on Kai. "Truly excellent observation."
Then he turned to Rai, his expression warm. "And you as well. Your intelligence and insight are beyond question."
The test was over.
---
Rai looked at him.
Her gaze lingered longer this time, no longer fleeting or accidental. There was something she wanted to ask—something forming at the edge of her thoughts—but the moment slipped away before she could speak.
Kai met her eyes once more.
Then he smiled.
It was warm, open, unguarded—very different from the calm restraint he had carried all evening. After that single glance, he turned away, stepping back toward Lee San.
"Uncle," he said lightly, "let's go. Our work here is done."
Mr. Luo looked up in mild surprise. "You're leaving already?" he asked Lee San. "It's been a long time since we last met."
Lee San nodded. "Yes. We have matters to attend to. We'll have to leave now."
Mr. Luo studied him for a moment, then laughed softly. "Very well. No problem at all." He waved a hand. "We'll meet again soon enough."
As if remembering something, his expression turned thoughtful—but he said no more.
Servants moved to clear a path. Lee San and Kai turned toward the exit, their figures gradually blending into the lantern-lit edges of the courtyard.
Just before stepping out—
Kai stopped.
He turned around.
Across the courtyard, he found Rai's gaze still on him.
He lifted a hand and waved casually, the same easy smile on his face as he spoke a single word.
"Bye."
Then he turned and left, disappearing beyond the courtyard gates alongside Lee San.
The lantern light flickered.
And the space he had occupied felt… strangely empty.
Rai stood there, unmoving.
The question she had wanted to ask never left her lips.
She didn't even know who he was.
Or so she thought.
Her mind replayed the conversation she had overheard earlier—Mr. Luo's voice, spoken clearly at the high table.
Lee San.
The name settled heavily in her thoughts.
Lee San had a brother.
And that brother had only one son.
Her breath caught.
Lee Kai.
The realization struck with quiet force.
The boy from the tavern.
The one who challenged her.
The one who smiled as he left—
Her fiancé.
The man she was to marry.
In one month.
Yes, it was none other than Lee Kai.