"Going to a hotel again?"
After sending the "Successor of Socialism" message, her friend never replied.
Su Qingyi did not take it to heart.
Once the courier collected the package, she sent the tracking slip to the buyer. Not long after, the remaining balance came through.
An extra fifty thousand yuan.
She almost wanted to ask why they trusted her so completely.
But the other party was not someone she could joke with. The reply she sent was perfectly polite and restrained.
"Final payment received. Please feel free to contact me if there are any issues. Thank you."
The person she dealt with was not the big figure himself, only his assistant. Even so, that assistant carried herself with enough authority to look down on most people. Aside from confirming the price, she had not exchanged a single unnecessary word.
Su Qingyi understood boundaries. She did not disturb them further.
Because her bank card had a same-day transaction limit, she withdrew only four thousand for her grandfather and planned to take out the remaining eighty thousand the next day.
Her grandfather was stunned when she handed him the money.
That carving had sat untouched for years. He had never expected it to sell, let alone at several times the price he had imagined.
His eyes reddened.
"You don't need to give Grandpa all of it. Keep the rest for yourself. I have enough."
She shook her head and held his hand.
"I have money too. Don't worry about me."
He refused again and again, telling her how hard her life in Beijing must have been, insisting she keep it.
Watching his thin back as he turned away, her chest tightened.
He thought she had suffered.
She thought he had.
That was probably what family meant.
Even if you were unhappy yourself, you still wanted the other person to be happy.
She stepped forward and hugged him from behind, resting her face on his shoulder.
"My granddaughter is really capable now," he laughed.
She smiled quietly.
The reason she was so "capable" was entirely because of Mr. Lu's name.
Most of her clients sought her out because of that reputation. Even if they could not see the value of her work, once his name was mentioned, they assumed their own ignorance rather than doubting her skill.
No one haggled.
Some even offered several times the market price.
If there were a clay statue of Mr. Lu anywhere in this world, she would have brought one home to worship.
Wang Zhenfeng did not return until it was completely dark.
Su Yu scolded her the moment she stepped through the door. Wang Zhenfeng explained pitifully that her phone had died and she had not meant to miss the calls.
Su Yu's tone softened and she asked whether she had eaten, saying she had saved food.
While waiting for it to be reheated, Wang Zhenfeng cautiously glanced upstairs.
"Is Cousin back?"
"Oh? You've learned to greet people now?" Su Yu teased. "Your cousin came back just after noon and has been helping your grandpa all afternoon."
She almost continued scolding, then stopped herself.
"What do you need her for?"
"Nothing. Just asking."
That night, after everyone slept, Wang Zhenfeng crept upstairs.
The house was dark except for the light in Su Qingyi's room.
She stood outside the door, rehearsing how to confess about stealing her photos.
Before she could knock, a voice sounded behind her.
"What are you doing here?"
She jumped.
The instinct to snap back rose, but she swallowed it.
Su Qingyi walked past her calmly, carrying a glass of water inside.
Wang Zhenfeng rarely saw her wearing glasses. She could not help staring.
Even in loose clothes and a casual bun secured with a wooden hairpin, she looked refined. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on her aloof face. One long leg stretched over a rattan chair. She looked like a painting.
"Is there something?" Su Qingyi asked, chin propped on her hand, eyes on her laptop.
Wang Zhenfeng hurried closer.
"I wanted to talk about using your photo on my account."
Su Qingyi looked up.
Her calm gaze made Wang Zhenfeng even more nervous.
"I only wanted to help Grandpa sell his carvings. No one watched my posts. Xiao Lan said Jiang He is the best self-media person around. I messaged him from my own account first, but he checked my homepage and didn't reply. That's why I used your photo…"
Her voice grew smaller.
"You know the rest. He asked us to come find him. We were too embarrassed. We didn't expect him to come here himself."
Silence.
"I didn't use your picture to do anything bad," she rushed on. "I just wanted to help. I know you think I'm fooling around, but I'm really not…"
Her voice faded.
Her eyes reddened.
Then Su Qingyi's hand landed gently on her head.
"I know you're not a bad kid."
She froze.
Su Qingyi's face remained cool and distant as always, but her tone was soft.
"I've always known."
There was no need to explain so much.
Tears filled Wang Zhenfeng's eyes.
"I won't use your photo again," she muttered. "Brother Jiang He lent us equipment. He said he'd help supervise when we film properly. Once we make money, you won't need to give Mom money anymore."
She knew why Su Qingyi gave Su Yu so much.
"When I earn money, I won't let Mom work so hard."
"Good," Su Qingyi said quietly.
After a pause, Wang Zhenfeng glanced at her screen.
"Are you really planning to open a shop in the West Market?"
"Yes."
"You know Zhou Xu and his dad basically monopolize wood carving there, right? They won't let you open one."
"Who do you think gave me this information?" Su Qingyi asked calmly.
Wang Zhenfeng blinked. "Zhou Xu?"
She did not deny it.
"Even if he lets you open, he'll invest or force you out later. That's what happened to Xiao Lan's dad."
She pulled up a chair.
"For that tiny shop, he invested nearly five hundred thousand. Annual rent is over two hundred thousand."
"The rent is that high?"
"Ten to thirty thousand a month. At peak times, forty thousand. And if Zhou Xu doesn't get a cut, he'll squeeze you out. How much money do you have to compete?"
Su Qingyi thought for a moment.
"Not necessarily. Zhou Xu has four shops and a factory. Expanding that aggressively means heavy capital flow. He targeted Xiao Lan's dad because he knew his financial background. With someone he doesn't know, he might hesitate. If his capital chain breaks, everything collapses."
She did not consider Zhou Xu her biggest problem.
The greater risk was the business itself.
She needed him to help her understand the market and avoid traps.
"You really want to open one?" Wang Zhenfeng still sounded doubtful. "Grandpa can't produce much. And the wood carving market is unstable."
"Stop worrying about me," Su Qingyi said, glancing at the time. "Go sleep. You have to film tomorrow."
"Oh right."
Wang Zhenfeng hurried off.
Before dawn the next day, Su Qingyi went to the West Market to research.
Most shop renters were outsiders. Most stall owners were locals.
She gathered information quickly.
By the time she finished, it was nearly four in the afternoon.
Only then did she remember her "promise" to Lu Jingcheng.
She crossed the stone bridge and headed toward the antique shop.
She did not expect him to be there.
She waited until Jiang He and Fang Zhu left the café nearby, then slipped inside.
The shop was quiet.
She called out "Jiang Jingye."
No answer.
She went upstairs.
Halfway up, she saw him.
Lu Jingcheng stood behind the second-floor railing, dressed in white, prayer beads in hand, watching her.
She stopped instinctively.
Every time she saw him, time seemed to slow. The day's fatigue disappeared. A smile surfaced without her permission.
He looked at her evenly.
After a brief exchange of eyes, she glanced away.
"Something wrong?"
His gaze dropped meaningfully to the stair beneath her foot.
He did not want her taking another step.
She retreated obediently.
"Then…" She paused, troubled, before her lips curved. "Going to a hotel again?"