After leaving Fusheng Restaurant, Liu Ming'an, empty-handed, reached out to take the two packages from Jiang Ning's shoulders and carried them on his own back.
"Are we going to sell calligraphy and paintings now?" Jiang Ning asked, noticing that he seemed to be purposefully heading somewhere.
"Yes, just by that bridge over there."
Liu Ming'an pointed ahead, and Jiang Ning looked in that direction. About two hundred meters away, there was a small wooden bridge with willows planted beside it. It was early autumn, and the willow leaves were a deep green, swaying gently on their soft branches in the breeze.
"Oh, right, this is for you," Liu Ming'an suddenly stopped and held out his hand to Jiang Ning, palm open with the silver tael lying in it.
"What for? You should keep it," Jiang Ning didn't move.
"It was meant to be yours in the first place," Liu Ming'an said, reaching out to grab Jiang Ning's wrist and placing the silver in her hand.
Jiang Ning thought for a moment and decided not to argue, accepting it without further ado.
The two walked to the bridge, where uneven bluestone slabs paved the ground, with tenacious weeds growing in the cracks between the stones.
Just as Jiang Ning was about to ask how to set up a stall here, she saw Liu Ming'an walk straight towards a woman selling osmanthus cakes nearby.
"Here you go, take care and have a nice day," the woman was attending to a customer, wrapping a steaming osmanthus cake in yellow oiled paper and handing it to a woman carrying a child with both hands. She then took the few copper coins the customer gave her and put them in the pocket in front of her before sitting down on a stool to rest.
After the woman left with her purchase, Liu Ming'an called out, "Aunt Hui, business seems good today, you've sold quite a lot already."
The woman called "Aunt Hui" looked up, and upon seeing Liu Ming'an, her eyes lit up with joy. "You rascal, why are you so late today? Slept in, didn't you?"
Liu Ming'an smiled and was about to say something when a gruff male voice sounded from behind, "Boss lady, two osmanthus cakes, please!"
"Coming right up! Just a moment!" Aunt Hui immediately responded, getting up from her stool and starting to wrap the cakes in oiled paper. At the same time, she nodded at Liu Ming'an, "You go set up your stall first, we'll chat later."
Liu Ming'an said "Alright" and walked into the shop behind Aunt Hui, familiar with the routine. He dragged out a bamboo couch about half as tall as a person.
Seeing that he was struggling to lift it alone, Jiang Ning went over to help carry the other end. Following Liu Ming'an's guidance, they together placed the bamboo couch about five or six meters away from Aunt Hui's stall.
"I'll go get a stool," Liu Ming'an said to Jiang Ning and went back into the shop.
Jiang Ning stood waiting for Liu Ming'an but felt a gaze fall squarely on her. It was Aunt Hui. Jiang Ning looked back at her, and the woman showed no malice, her eyes full of curiosity.
Seeing Jiang Ning look over, Aunt Hui greeted her straightforwardly, "Young lady, you're quite strong. What's your relationship with Ming'an? I've never seen you before."
What was she to Liu Ming'an?
This question stumped Jiang Ning.
Jiang Ning lowered her eyes and remained silent, making Aunt Hui wonder if the girl couldn't speak or if she was just too shy to talk to strangers.
"Aunt Hui," Liu Ming'an's voice came at the right moment, breaking the awkward situation. "She's my sister, her name is Jiang Ning. She's not very talkative."
Sister?
Jiang Ning's eyebrows twitched slightly upon hearing this, giving Liu Ming'an an ambiguous look. Liu Ming'an was only nineteen, and she had been twenty-two when she died, yet now she had become the younger sister.
But then she thought, her current body looked no older than eighteen, so it wasn't unreasonable for Liu Ming'an to call her sister.
Caught under Jiang Ning's gaze, Liu Ming'an was puzzled but smiled slightly. He placed two low stools beside the bamboo couch, then took out the calligraphy and paintings from the package and spread them on the couch. He sat on one stool and arranged the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.
"Jiang Ning, come here."
Liu Ming'an patted the other stool, indicating for Jiang Ning to sit and rest.
Just as Jiang Ning took a step, a little girl holding a paper pinwheel came running across the bridge. The little girl looked about five or six years old, with two small buns tied on top of her head, one on each side, bound with red hair ties, looking cute and clever.
A few meters behind the little girl, a young woman followed, running after her with a loving expression. The two had very similar features, and anyone could tell they were mother and daughter.
"Yuanyuan, slow down, slow down, be careful not to fall..."
No sooner had the mother spoken than the child kicked a slightly protruding stone slab on the ground, lost her balance, and fell straight forward, right in Jiang Ning's direction.
Everyone thought that if Jiang Ning didn't move, the child would bump into her legs and not fall. They all optimistically assumed this.
Unexpectedly, Jiang Ning stepped aside, avoiding the child.
The little girl fell hard on the stone pavement, and the pinwheel in her hand also broke apart as it hit the ground. The next moment, her lips quivered, and she began to wail loudly.
Jiang Ning acted as if nothing had happened and walked around her to sit down next to Liu Ming'an.
Liu Ming'an gave Jiang Ning a complex look, then quickly got up and went with Aunt Hui to help the child up.
"Oh no!" The child's mother, seeing her daughter fall and cry, was both anxious and heartbroken. She rushed over in a few quick strides and took her sobbing daughter into her arms to comfort her.
"There, there, Yuanyuan, don't cry, don't cry..."
"Mommy, it hurts, wah wah... and my pinwheel is broken too, wah wah..." The child cried, sniffling, and held out her hand for her mother to see. The side of her palm had a small patch of skin scraped off and was oozing tiny drops of blood.
The mother's eyes were full of pain and sympathy. She gently blew on her daughter's wound, continuously comforting her.
When the child was finally consoled, the mother turned to look at Jiang Ning and accused, "Why did you dodge? She's such a small child, could she have hurt you by bumping into your leg? You just watched her fall to the ground, don't you have any compassion?"
Seeing her anger directed at Jiang Ning, Liu Ming'an tried to explain, "Sister, my sister, she—"
"I'm not asking you!" The woman interrupted Liu Ming'an, her gaze fixed on Jiang Ning, demanding an explanation from her.
Hearing this, Jiang Ning's eyes casually swept over, looking quietly at the woman. Her eyes showed neither joy nor sorrow, without a trace of emotional fluctuation.
"I didn't make her fall, why should you care whether I avoid her or not?"
Jiang Ning's cold and emotionless words were like a bucket of cold water poured over the head, shocking the mother so much that her breath caught.
"Are you saying my daughter deserved it?" The woman was clearly furious, questioning harshly.
Jiang Ning rested her head on her hand, silently looking back at her, the answer unspoken but clear.
"You!" The woman was so angry her face turned red, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
The child in her arms sensed her mother's anger and timidly called out "Mommy."
The childish voice acted like a floodgate, releasing all of the mother's resentment. Liu Ming'an saw the woman smile gently at the child, then pick up the broken pinwheel, lift the child, and stand up to leave.
After a few steps, the woman stopped, turned her head to look at Jiang Ning, and said earnestly, "You're young now, but someday you'll have children of your own."
Aunt Hui was shocked by Jiang Ning's strange temperament. How could such a kind-hearted person like Liu Ming'an have such a cold-blooded sister?
Aunt Hui quietly asked Liu Ming'an beside her, "Ming'an, is she really your sister?"
Liu Ming'an avoided answering directly and pointed at her stall, saying, "Aunt Hui, someone's come to buy osmanthus cakes, you'd better go."
With that, he returned to the bamboo couch and sat down next to Jiang Ning.
"Jiang Ning, you're too cold," Jiang Ning heard Liu Ming'an say.
"So what?" Jiang Ning admitted indifferently. This was just who she was. Could one expect an assassin to be a kind-hearted good person?
"You shouldn't be like this," Liu Ming'an said with particular seriousness.
Jiang Ning stared at him. The young man's eyes were clear and clean, his pure black pupils reflecting her face, as innocent as a newborn.
Jiang Ning thought of He Wen whom she had killed and the woman who came to cast a curse in the middle of the night. She curved her lips, but the face veil hid it from Liu Ming'an's view.
"Liu Ming'an, you just focus on being a good person," Jiang Ning responded to Liu Ming'an with equal seriousness. "As for other matters, leave them to me."
Liu Ming'an couldn't understand.
Jiang Ning didn't need him to understand either.