[Xie Residence · Main Hall]
After breakfast, guests moved in and out of the hall, the atmosphere lively and bright. Xie Wenyun wore a simple, elegant long dress, her expression serene—as if last night's absurdity had never happened.
She carried a teacup with steady steps, yet when her eyes swept the crowd, they inevitably drifted toward one corner—
There, Cangyuan was speaking with Lord Xie. His tone was composed, his manner graceful. Wenyun's heart skipped. She looked away at once… yet couldn't help stealing another glance.
—
At that moment, Cangyuan turned his head slightly. Across the crowd, their eyes met.
Wenyun's breathing stalled. Her fingers tightened around the cup.
But Cangyuan only offered a faint smile, brows and eyes clear—nothing more than ordinary courtesy.
He even turned away again, calm and unbothered, as if last night's drunken "bullying" had left no mark in his heart.
And yet… only he knew that his chest tightened, just for an instant.
He remembered her laugh. He remembered her "travel together." He remembered the touch on his lips—
and still, he chose to pretend it never happened.
—
Later, Wenyun delivered tea and refreshments at her father's request.
She set the tray down and spoke properly, "My lord, please have some tea."
Cangyuan lifted his gaze to meet hers. His fingers paused on the table—then recovered at once.
"Much obliged."
When the teacup was pushed closer, his hand avoided hers by instinct, refusing any brush of contact.
Yet after she turned and left, his eyes followed her without thinking—until her back vanished into the crowd.
—
He mocked himself in silence.
Still caring about this… how ridiculous.
But no matter how he laughed at himself, he couldn't deny it—
That woman's presence was slowly occupying a part of his heart that should never have been stirred.
[Feng City · Riverworks Construction Site]
The roar of labor thundered in the ears. Wooden piles were driven into the riverbed again and again. Craftsmen, stonemasons, carpenters—each to their task. Sweat flashed under the blazing sun. The foundation for a second waterwheel was being built, while townsfolk gathered to watch, their chatter rising and falling, hope bright in their eyes.
Xie Lei arrived with the group, smiling broadly.
"Lord Cangyuan, I'll have to trouble you to oversee this personally. The people of Feng City are depending on these canals."
Cangyuan nodded, his gaze sweeping over men hauling massive timbers. His expression was focused and calm.
"The riverbed narrows here. Build a stone platform as the base—stabilize first, then raise the wheel. Otherwise, when the water rises later, the foundation will wobble."
The workers hurried to write it down, nodding repeatedly.
Wenyun followed along, her neat collar fluttering slightly in the wind. She lifted a hand to shade her forehead, but her eyes kept slipping—against her will—back to Cangyuan.
He seemed not to notice, absorbed in the work. Yet sometimes, his gaze would drift toward her as well, faint and unintentional. Last night's scene, and this morning's deliberate calm, sat on his chest like a stone.
"Yun'er," Xie Lei suddenly said, "take Lord Cangyuan to the channel edge. Let him inspect it more closely."
Wenyun's heart tightened, but she had no choice but to agree.
The two walked side by side to the canal edge. Water slapped against the stone bank, splashing in fine spray.
"Miss Xie," Cangyuan spoke at last, his tone carrying a trace of amused warmth, "you were… quite bold last night."
Wenyun froze mid-step and nearly misstepped into empty air. She steadied herself quickly, panic flaring—yet she forced calm into her face. Her lashes trembled.
"My lord is joking," she said lightly. "I turned in early last night. What boldness could there be?"
Cangyuan lowered his eyes, watching the faint flush on her face. The ribs of his fan tapped softly in his palm.
"Oh?" His voice stayed gentle—yet dropped low, as if intentionally meant to rattle her.
"Then I must have seen wrong?"
Wenyun choked on her words. She could only bite her lip, refusing to answer, and hurriedly shifted the topic by lifting her gaze toward the waterwheel foundation.
"If this waterwheel succeeds, the people of Feng City will finally live in peace."
Cangyuan looked at her. His smile deepened—yet he didn't press the matter further. Still, the dull heaviness in his chest didn't fade; it only gained a flavor he couldn't name.
In the distance, workers shouted in unison as a massive timber was pushed onto the platform. Riverwater splashed. Amid the booming sound, the hidden undertow in their hearts remained unspoken—neither willing to be the first to tear the veil away.
[Feng City · Riverworks Site · Dusk]
The sun slanted low, staining half the sky orange-red. After a full day's work, the craftsmen packed their tools and quieted the hammering. Only intermittent calls and the sound of water remained.
Wenyun had accompanied Cangyuan through the inspections; fatigue began to creep into her steps. As she neared the canal edge, a sharp crack sounded—someone unloaded a huge stone. Chips burst outward, tiny as rain.
"Careful—!"
Before the warning fully left her lips, a steady, powerful hand reached out and pulled her under the shelter of an arm. The stone chips struck Cangyuan's sleeve, leaving flecks of pale dust.
Wenyun stood stunned. When she looked up, she saw his profile close enough to count breaths—his features cool and sharp, his gaze steady with concentration.
When the dust settled, Cangyuan released her, his voice calm but firmly reprimanding.
"Miss Xie. A canal site is danger everywhere. You shouldn't stand this close."
Wenyun's face warmed. Her heart hammered wildly. She lowered her head; her voice was so small it nearly vanished.
"I… only wanted to see more clearly."
Cangyuan's eyes lingered on her trembling lashes. Without realizing it, his lips curved—half amusement, half something else.
"Miss Xie is truly… you say you want to be a heroine, yet you're always this reckless."
Wenyun bit her lip and muttered in embarrassed protest, "Since when do heroines never get hurt…"
Before she could finish, Cangyuan lifted his hand and brushed a speck of stone dust from her shoulder. His fingertips skimmed the fabric—light and natural—yet her whole body went rigid, as if she'd forgotten how to breathe.
Under the dying sunlight, the air turned delicate and strangely quiet.
At last, Cangyuan withdrew his hand, his tone smoothing back to neutrality.
"It's getting late. We should return."
Wenyun answered softly, "Mm," but didn't dare lift her head.
In her mind, one thought rose like a whisper—
Just now… was he protecting me?
[Feng City · Path Back to the City]
The sunset faded. Dusk thickened. The workers drifted away in twos and threes; the riverside grew quiet again.
Wenyun and Cangyuan walked side by side, only two attendants ahead. The wind was cool, yet it couldn't calm the agitation in her chest.
Her mind replayed the scene again and again—his arm shielding her, his hand brushing her shoulder. The distance had been too close, close enough that even breath felt warm.
No, no… it was only courtesy. He was simply preventing me from getting hurt.
She lectured herself with her head lowered, but the "deer" in her heart only slammed harder.
Cangyuan, in contrast, acted as though nothing had happened. His pace stayed unhurried, his expression relaxed, the corner of his mouth carrying a faint, elusive smile.
"Miss Xie," he said suddenly, as calmly as if discussing official business, "if the canal mouth adds a secondary channel, it can divert floodwater. When you return, you may mention it to your father."
Wenyun startled, then answered blankly, "Ah… yes."
Cangyuan glanced at her with a half-smile and continued, "You worked hard today, accompanying the inspection. Tomorrow the craftsmen will raise the wooden wheel—you needn't come again."
Wenyun pressed her lips together. A quiet disappointment seeped in. She should have felt relieved, yet instead…
If she couldn't see him tomorrow, it felt as though something in her would be missing.
Flustered, she only dared to stare at the road, hiding the red creeping up her ears.
Cangyuan lowered his gaze and caught her clumsy disguise. One brow lifted; a trace of amusement flashed in his eyes.
So she's still guilty.
They walked more slowly.
At a bend in the path, a still pool lay beside them. The last glow of sunset reflected on its surface—without the slightest ripple.
Cangyuan stopped suddenly. His eyes darkened a little, and his voice carried a faint, unbidden sigh.
"…Sometimes, even water will stop—just for one shore."
The moment the words left his mouth, he himself paused. In the depths of his mind, a graceful face surfaced—the one who had once made him willing to set aside his wandering dream.
But in the end, the place her heart ran toward… was never him.
Wenyun turned to him, puzzled.
"Stop?" Her brows knit. "If water no longer flows, it's still water—but it's lost its life. Flowing water is beautiful, and it can nurture all things. If it stops for a single shore… doesn't that become dead water?"
Her voice was clear, firm. The night wind lifted her skirt hem, making her gaze look even brighter.
Cangyuan's lips curled into a half-smile. He didn't argue—only said lightly,
"Dead water… might also be another kind of protection."
Then he turned and continued forward, sleeves catching the wind, his expression outwardly calm while turmoil rolled beneath:
If I could have stopped back then, I would have done it without hesitation.
Only… she didn't belong to me.
Wenyun stared at the still pool, and for reasons she couldn't name, something in her chest quivered. She hurried to catch up, but didn't ask further—only pressed her lips tight.
They walked together, yet each sank into a different sea of thoughts.
[Xie Residence · Night]
Wenyun sat alone by the window. Moonlight spilled in, illuminating the plain white teacup on the table. Her fingers traced the rim again and again as she replayed today's words.
"Water will stop… for one shore."
"Dead water… might be another kind of protection."
She let out a quiet laugh, but it held no lightness.
"But if it becomes dead water… can it still be protection? Isn't that just… drying yourself up?"
The moment she said it, she paused.
Protection.
The word rippled through her heart.
When Lord Cangyuan said "dead water might be another kind of protection"…
Did he have someone he once wanted to protect—someone who had made him stop?
Wenyun's chest tightened for no reason, like a thin needle pricking her from the inside. She didn't dare think deeper, yet sourness spread anyway.
"…If there really was such a person… who would it be?"
The thought rose—and she forced it down at once, turning her eyes away. But it refused to stay buried.
Her voice dissolved softly into the night. She didn't realize it herself: this conversation had already lodged inside her, becoming a hidden thorn that tugged at her emotions.
—
In the guest courtyard elsewhere, the lights were out. Cangyuan leaned on the edge of his bed, turning an empty wine cup in his hand, staring at the crescent moon reflected in its bottom.
In his mind, it wasn't only Wenyun's rebuttal that echoed—it was another face as well. The one he had once loved, yet could only ever remain on a distant shore.
"Xingyu…" he murmured, voice so light it was nearly self-mockery.
"I thought if water could stop, that would be peace of heart. But she was right… water that stops becomes dead water."
He closed his eyes. His fingers tightened on the cup, and a sour ache rose inside him.
After a long time, he laughed under his breath, bitterness threading the sound.
"How ridiculous… I can't become dead water—yet I have no shore where I can stop."
The night stayed silent, only wind brushing the curtains.
At last, he set the cup down and lifted his eyes to the bright moon outside the window—his gaze deep, complicated, and unreadable.