Tan Yin was completely absorbed by the bustling and vibrant town, paying no attention to Yuan Zhong’s mumblings. She jumped out of the carriage, looking around, overwhelmed by the sights and not knowing where to begin.
A street vendor approached, shaking a rattle-drum, carrying a half-person-high wooden box on his back. The box was filled with colorful little windmills and various trinkets, and as he walked, he called out to attract customers. Tan Yin’s gaze was instantly drawn to him, and she walked up to inspect a small beaded fish hanging from the box, admiring it so much that she couldn’t bring herself to put it down.
“You like it?” Yuan Zhong asked with a perplexed expression. The beaded fish was neither finely crafted nor unique—it was something you could find anywhere. What on earth had caught her fancy?
Tan Yin was completely focused on the trinkets, oblivious to his question. During her time alive, the mortal world hadn’t been this bustling, and such interesting little trinkets were unheard of. Although the craftsmanship of the Ji family was unparalleled, they never made anything like this. She found a little red beaded fox, lifelike and adorable, and couldn’t help but rub it fondly in her hands.
Seeing her interest, the vendor smiled and said, “These are handmade, not expensive at all. If you buy one, I’ll throw in another for free.”
Tan Yin was genuinely tempted, but before she could respond, Yuan Zhong lightly tugged on her sleeve. Leaning in, he said eagerly, “Sister Ji, do you like foxes that much? I can turn into one for you—one that’s a thousand times more beautiful than this little thing.”
Before he could finish, she walked off, her attention now captured by another stall selling clay figurines.
The vendor, watching her walk away, turned and gave a small nod to Yuan Zhong. Yuan Zhong smiled, picked up the little beaded fox she had been playing with, and asked, “How much?”
The vendor gave a rueful smile, handing over both the beaded fox and the fish, along with a small windmill as a gift, before quietly departing.
Yuan Zhong blew on the windmill, making it spin, while crushing the beaded fish in his palm. A faint, whispering voice echoed in his ear: “After a long investigation, nothing unusual has been found. The girl’s background is strange, but we are still pursuing further leads.”
He spun the windmill idly as he walked back to Tan Yin, tapped her on the shoulder, and cheerfully said, “Sister Ji, here’s something for you to play with.”
Tan Yin clearly liked the little windmill. She played with the beaded fox for a bit before tucking it away in her sleeve, but she kept the windmill in her hand, gently blowing on it to watch it spin, its vibrant colors swirling.
Yuan Zhong leaned his chin on his hand, bored, as he slouched over a table and sighed, “Is that really so much fun? You can find those everywhere. Only little kids care about them.”
Seeing that Tan Yin didn’t respond, he quickly added with a playful grin, “Of course, I’m not saying you’re childish, Sister Ji. You’ve just kept your youthful spirit, and I love that.”
Tan Yin still didn’t reply. There was nothing to say to him, so she simply kept her head down, sipping her tea.
Yuan Zhong, clearly determined to get a response from her, made exaggerated faces and said, “Alright, let’s finish this tea first. Then, Sister Ji, you can rest in the guest room for a bit while I head into town to find a craftsman. My carriage hasn’t been serviced in ages, and every bump feels like it’s rattling my bones. Once the carriage is fixed, we’ll head to Orange Lake—it’s a peaceful place my clan owns. I’ll show you around. Sound good?”
The moment she heard “carriage repair,” Tan Yin’s eyes lit up, and she immediately stood up. “Is the carriage downstairs?”
Yuan Zhong stared at her, puzzled, as she made her way downstairs. “Sister Ji, where are you going?”
“To fix the carriage,” she replied matter-of-factly.
Fix the carriage? Was she going to fix it or destroy it?! Yuan Zhong, worried that his beloved carriage was in danger, hurried after her.
The grand, golden carriage was parked in the inn’s courtyard, carefully attended to by the inn’s staff. The four Elysium birds pulling it had been groomed, their feathers even whiter and more striking than before.
Tan Yin bent down, inspecting the central axle of the carriage, holding a small black hammer that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She tapped here and there on the axle. Yuan Zhong, feeling his heart sink with each tap, nervously smiled and said, “Sister Ji, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with such rough work…”
Tan Yin straightened up, tossing the hammer back into her Qiankun pouch at her waist. “The axle has a crack. It’s crooked. You’ll need to replace it.”
Yuan Zhong’s jaw nearly dropped. She could actually fix carriages? He looked at her, his expression growing more complicated. This woman was full of contradictions, making all sorts of obvious and subtle mistakes. Whoever had sent her as a spy had made an incredibly foolish choice. He was starting to tire of playing along. Eyeing the intricately detailed pouch at her waist, he finally asked directly, “Is that a Qiankun pouch?”
Tan Yin smiled faintly, with a hint of pride that was hard to decipher. “You recognize it?”
She had died young, though she had imagined that the four Qiankun pouches she had made would be coveted by many. She hadn’t expected that, after all these years, there would still be people who could recognize them.
Yuan Zhong’s eyes narrowed slightly as he replied, “Of course. It’s an incredibly rare treasure.”
Qiankun pouches were crafted by an ancient artisan, though no one knew how many were made. Yuan Zhong knew of one in the royal palace of Qiong, another in the hands of the War Ghost clan, and a third that had appeared in the Eastern Yan Kingdom. The rest were merely rumors. Whose pouch was this one?
“Rare?” Tan Yin asked, puzzled. She had always thought that, over the years, there would surely be skilled artisans capable of making more Qiankun pouches.
Yuan Zhong shook his head and changed the subject. “Sister Ji, you really know how to fix carriages?”
She looked slightly embarrassed. “I’m not an expert, but ebony, while valuable, isn’t suitable for axles because it’s too hard and brittle. Replacing it with cypress would make the ride much smoother.”
Yuan Zhong fell silent for a moment before chuckling. “Sister Ji, you know quite a bit. Could it be that this knowledge is passed down in your family?”
Tan Yin quietly shook her head. “...Let’s find a craftsman to replace the axle.”
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