Under the resentful gazes of everyone present, Tan Xinran slowly shuffled over to Jiang Yingcheng.
"Venerable Jiayue," she said gently.
She knew today's farce had sprung from this little girl's passing whim, so her tone held little of the reverence one would show a Bodhisattva. Instead, it carried an adult woman's fondness for an adorable little girl.
Jiang Yingcheng once again made a show of divining with her fingers.
"I risked peering into heaven's secrets and discovered that the man by your side is not a worthy match."
Tan Xinran froze.
The little girl's voice was as childishly sweet and clear as before, yet she deliberately adopted a mature, solemn tone. The two styles layered together created an unmistakable dissonance.
She had thought the girl had staged this ridiculous spectacle merely because she loved to play. But had it all been to tell her this, using such a clumsy yet clever method?
Something seemed to catch in Tan Xinran's throat, and warmth rose from the bottom of her heart.
When Jiang Yingcheng saw that she still had not answered, she finally grew anxious. "When you were ten, you saved a boy your age beside your maternal grandmother's estate in the distant outskirts. He spent the following years asking after your whereabouts, and he still hasn't given up!"
Tan Xinran's eyes slowly widened.
Of course she remembered that incident.
After returning to the city that year, she had considered going back to find him. But her maternal grandmother's house in the distant outskirts had burned to ashes in a fire, leaving her with no way to look for him.
So he had been searching for her all these years, too?
The little girl's voice suddenly seemed distant in her ears.
"He is your age, upright and kind, with ideals and ambitions.