Page 37

Yu Qing, who had lost her soul for quite some time, could no longer hear what they were saying. Her brain, too heavy and sluggish to process information, felt like an old, decaying machine when she was mentioned, capable only of outputting the singular, remaining data it held.

Marinate what?

Like to marinate what?

What is there worth marinating?

Is Xiang Changge okay?

Yu Qing's tone was ethereal, her voice very soft. Xiang Changge only heard her answer with three faint words: "...Xiang Changge."

"..."

The moment she heard it clearly, Xiang Changge fell into deep thought.

Was Yu Qing's answer a response to her own question, or was she just casually calling her name?

Thinking about it carefully, the former seemed much more likely.

After all, if it were the latter, why would she call her own name just as she was being asked a question?

And in such an ethereal, subconscious, and gentle tone, no less.

Wanting to go back and lie down to sleep, not wanting to make incense or perhaps brine?

But after calling her name, she fell silent again.

In other words, Yu Qing was so angry that she wanted to turn her into a marinated dish—to just swallow her whole—simply because she kept pestering her, annoying her, and forcing her to sleep early, wake up early, and eat on time.

...What a thick, heavy resentment.

Xiang Changge, suddenly feeling that she was truly impressive, smiled. It was a smile without much meaning.

"Miss can try it."

"?"

The three people nearby, doubting their own ears: "?"

Wait a second, what kind of strange things were they talking about? Weren't they just discussing what was good to marinate? How did it seem like they were suddenly on completely different wavelengths?

Could it be that the brains of rich people just worked differently than theirs?

Yu Qing didn't know what she had said, nor did she know what Xiang Changge had replied. Regardless, she responded randomly when asked, and when not asked, she just walked forward in a daze, like a machine.

It wasn't until they reached the garden and were about to step onto the stairs in front of the flower house that a hot palm gripped her arm through her shawl.

The thin fabric could not block the other person's warmth.

In that instant, it was as if Yu Qing, who had been frozen stiff in a world of ice and snow and only knew how to repeat simple commands, felt her soul return to her body at the touch of that heat. She suddenly snapped back to reality.

Her vacant black eyes regained focus. She glanced to the side and saw Xiang Changge, who had been following her for fear that she might faint while walking, holding her arm with one hand and reminding her, "Watch the step."

Yu Qing: "..."

Blinking her sore eyes, she leaned into the support provided by the other woman and walked into the flower house with a straight face.

Despicable, truly too despicable.

Yu Qing thought.

It would have been better if she hadn't spoken to her at all, letting her stay in that drowsy, muddled state. At least that way, she wouldn't have to spend energy dealing with things she wasn't interested in.

She didn't speak to her earlier, she didn't speak to her later, but she just had to speak to her right as they were about to reach the flower house. Wasn't this just an attempt to chase away her sleepiness?

Scheming, too scheming.

Xiang Changge, unaware that her thoughtfulness had earned her the titles of "despicable" and "scheming" in the other's mind, saw that Yu Qing had perked up a bit. Seeing that she likely wouldn't collapse on the spot while walking, she finally shifted her gaze to her surroundings.

Unlike the garden outside, the flowers in the flower house were all rare, expensive species that looked incredibly brilliant and exotic under the transparent glass and bright sunlight.

The flower house was made of glass on all four sides, serving as a greenhouse in winter to ensure that the owners could see the delicate, dew-kissed flowers whenever they wished to admire them.

At this moment, in the nearly two-hundred-square-meter flower house, besides the flowers emitting a faint fragrance, there was a lady in a qipao at a table grinding something.

Seeing them enter, she hurriedly stood up to greet them, then specifically invited Yu Qing to sit down and began introducing the spices on the long table.

Although the incense master looked experienced and carried an air of profound knowledge in every gesture, she did not like to ramble or lecture.

After a simple introduction, she began to demonstrate the process for everyone.

Yu Qing had originally been uninterested in this, but since she was already there, she took a few casual glances.

As she watched, she became somewhat mesmerized.

She had never been exposed to incense making, and now, watching the master work—seeing her grind the powder, sift it, and mix it bit by bit... it was clearly a monotonous process, yet she found it calming.

It seemed somewhat interesting.

Once a person becomes interested in something, they forget about fatigue and time.

By the time the incense was shaped and cut, and the master was instructing them on how to properly store and air-dry it, Yu Qing realized that she was so tired her waist and knees felt weak and her legs were unsteady.

Slumping lazily into a chair, Yu Qing looked up at the sky outside; it was at least past six in the evening.

So a day is this long, and she can do so many things?

"I thought the incense would be ready immediately. I was already thinking about lighting some to try tonight. I didn't expect that I'd have to wait for it to air-dry before it could be used."

After speaking, Ge Bufan stretched, went to wash her hands, and then walked over to Yu Qing, asking with concern, "Miss Yu, are you tired? Let me give you a massage. If you put too much strain on your hands, your arms will be sore tomorrow; a massage beforehand will make you feel much better."

The process of incense making involves many steps, and no matter which part you are working on, you have to use your hands. After being busy for several hours, they were bound to be sore and tired.

Looking at the frail-looking Yu Qing, who clearly appeared to be the type of pampered young lady who rarely exercised, Ge Bufan was worried that if she didn't loosen up those muscles, she might wake up crying from the lactic acid buildup the next morning.

Watching a beauty suffer was something she, Ge Bufan, simply couldn't bring herself to do.

Yu Qing, suddenly on the receiving end of such enthusiasm, felt very uncomfortable and instinctively looked around for Xiang Changge.

When they first started learning incense making, Xiang Changge hadn't joined the four of them in the hands-on work, just watching from the sidelines, but at some point, she had slipped away without a sound.

She left?

She had left her all alone here to face three extremely outgoing people and just walked away!

The uneasy Yu Qing thought to herself that when payday came, she would definitely have to deduct some of her wages.

With Xiang Changge gone, she still had to face the situation herself. Yu Qing looked at the sunny young girl who was smiling and waiting for her response, pursed her lips, and shook her head: "...No need."

She didn't need it.

If she wanted a massage, she had professional masseurs, or Aunt Yang and the others to do it.

"Oh, it's fine, really."

Ge Bufan was truly a very enthusiastic and self-assured person: "Don't worry, I massage my mom from time to time at home. I'm quite good at it, so just relax."

Yu Qing: "..."

This wasn't a question of whether she was worried or not; it was a question of whether she accepted it.

Chu Keke, standing to the side, saw this and leaned in as well: "A massage? Can I learn it too? If I learn it, I can massage myself."

Seventy percent of heroines in classic novels come from humble backgrounds, often with suffocating family lives—either unloved by their parents or orphaned and living under someone else's roof.

The remaining thirty percent are the "true heiresses" in stories about swapped identities, who, despite having excellent family backgrounds, were replaced by villains and grew up as little slaves in the villains' households.

Chu Keke was the former.

After her parents divorced, her mother left, leaving her and her poor younger sister to live in fear with their alcoholic father, where being beaten, scolded, and starved was a daily occurrence.

It wasn't until her father got drunk and was hit by a car on the road that she, like a weed pushing through a heavy rock, finally saw the sunlight.

And because of her sister's illness, she had always been working and studying at the same time, with no one to rely on.

She would take any part-time job that could earn money.

It was just that she got tired, too.

"Of course you can," Ge Bufan said generously. "My grandfather is an old practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine, and I learned these techniques from him. It's actually not that hard; if you learn carefully, you'll definitely be able to master it."

Yu Qing, listening to the two of them go back and forth: "..."

Learn what? She, the "teaching model," hadn't even agreed yet.

Yao Ningran shook her arms and added, "I actually feel fine. Maybe it's because I'm used to it from practicing the piano."

Ge Bufan disagreed upon hearing this: "Being used to it is one thing, but taking proper care of yourself is another. You might feel fine now, but what if the accumulated fatigue leads to illness over time?"

Yao Ningran thought this sounded very reasonable and joined the group: "Then I'll learn it too."

Yu Qing, surrounded by three people: "..."

Could someone please listen to her opinion? Although she knew they meant well, she really felt she didn't need this.

Fortunately, without waiting for Yu Qing's confirmation, Ge Bufan didn't just start touching her, but simply looked at her with expectant eyes.