Chapter 4

A-Qing’s knuckles turned white from how tightly he gripped her wrist. His face paled further — his eyes wide, confused, and deeply hurt — like a puppy about to be abandoned. Those dark, glistening pools held nothing but silent desperate pleading. Su Qianqian’s heart softened instantly — as though brushed by the softest tip of a feather. She turned her hand to clasp his cold one, stroking his skin gently with her thumb, her voice lowered to the softest tone she could manage. "A-Qing, you are sick. You need medicine to get well. I am going to gather the money — so the doctor can prepare the best medicines for you. Once you are well and strong again… I will take you out to see the world. We will eat every delicious thing there is. Won’t that be nice?" The future she painted was sweet as honeyed cake. A-Qing’s long lashes fluttered — still damp with unshed tears. He tilted his head slightly — those clear gem-like eyes shifting toward the old doctor stroking his beard — then to the apprentice leaning forward, listening intently. In a voice so innocent it chilled the blood — he spoke each word distinctly, calmly: "Then… why must we pay at all? If he refuses to cure me…" He paused — gaze sweeping calmly over both men — before speaking words that sent a shiver down the spine — clear and unwavering. "I will simply kill them both. Then… we won’t need to pay." Silence seized the clinic. The doctor’s hand froze mid-stroke upon his beard. The apprentice jerked upright — eyes bulging — the pestle in his hand clattering loudly into the mortar. Su Qianqian gasped aloud. In her mind flashed the dungeon — that sickening **CRACK** — bodies collapsing instantly — and A-Qing’s face then — empty, indifferent, cold. She had nearly been deceived by that pure face and clinging gaze — forgetting what dangerous instincts lay dormant beneath such stunning beauty. "A-Qing!" Su Qianqian raised her voice sharply — and instinctively pressed her palm firmly over his mouth. She could feel the soft warmth of his lips against her skin — stark contrast to her own racing heart. She drew a steadying breath, forced calm, and spoke low and urgent. "This doctor is trying to save you. He is a good man. You must never — ever — speak of killing people. Do you understand?" Muffled, A-Qing blinked his large phoenix eyes — innocent, confused — wondering why his wife had suddenly grown stern. He had only suggested what seemed the simplest, most direct solution. Cold sweat broke across Su Qianqian’s back. She turned quickly to the doctor and apprentice — forcing a strained smile. "Forgive him! He… hit his head in the fall! His mind is simple — he speaks nonsense! Please — pay him no mind!" Internally she wailed: A-Qing, what kind of life did you live before? What cruel logic have you learned from the world? How am I ever going to break this habit of solving every problem by *eliminating* it?! She cupped his face gently in both hands — looked him straight in the eye — and spoke slowly and patiently. "A-Qing… when you buy something — you must pay. And when people have done nothing to us… you must never hurt or kill them. Do you understand?" Still confused by her sternness, A-Qing nevertheless nodded — accepting the two iron rules his wife had laid down: **pay for what you take** — and **do not kill without cause.** Su Qianqian breathed a sigh of relief. But A-Qing’s clear, stubborn gaze remained fixed upon her — and he pressed anxiously: "Then… may I refuse the medicine instead? Or… may I go with you to gather the silver?" Instinctively, he feared being separated from her. Su Qianqian sighed inwardly — and continued playing the devoted fiancée. She softened her tone — letting him see genuine concern in her eyes. "You may not. If you do not take the medicine — you will not recover. How then will you grow strong? How will you protect me? How will we live happily together out in the world? It would… break my heart." She emphasized those last words — watching his reaction closely. A-Qing’s lashes trembled. "And… everything we do together from now on requires silver. Right now, you are gravely hurt. The most important thing is to lie still and rest. If you travel with me… and your wounds worsen… then…" She let her eyes fall — voice trembling with emotion — "…it would hurt me even more deeply. Be good, A-Qing. I promise — I will return before dinner. And I will bring you something delicious. Won’t that be nice?" --- # Chapter 4: Kill Them All — Part 2 "Hurt your heart…" A-Qing whispered the words — and that strange, warm feeling swelled again within his chest. So she was not leaving him because he was a burden. She was keeping him here because it would **pain her** to see him suffer. To be cared for — to be cherished — like a tiny seed taking root in his empty heart. He no longer insisted on following. He simply watched her — those beautiful eyes unblinking — and nodded slowly, obediently — heartbreakingly sweet. The doctor recovered from his shock. He looked at A-Qing’s handsome face — so pure, so innocent, yet so utterly terrifying moments before — and felt a deep unease he could not explain. After a lifetime of reading people — he could not fathom this young man. At last he gave Su Qianqian a long, searching look — and spoke gravely. "Miss… go quickly — and return soon. Your… fiancé… cannot wait." Having soothed this dangerous yet childlike beast — Su Qianqian practically fled the clinic — the scent of herbs thick in the air, her back damp with cold sweat. *Earn money? Very well.* Before crossing into this world — she had carved her own path through a competitive world. She had more than luck. As a devoted foodie and former food blogger — she possessed something far more valuable: **understanding of flavour and innovation.** Surely — with those ideas — she could find a way. She had already heard in town — the largest restaurant, **"Prosperity Hall"** — gathered recipes and paid well for anything of value. Its owner was said to be connected to nobility from the capital — and they paid according to a recipe’s worth. Steeling herself — she walked toward the bustling Eastern Market. The marketplace teemed with life — calls of vendors, haggling voices — vegetable sellers, butchers, cloth merchants, pastry shops… the air rich with mingled scents. Passing the rear gate of a provision merchant — where deliveries were accepted — she heard an old man pleading desperately: "Steward Wang… I beg you! This goat’s milk — fresh this morning! Smell it — pure and good! Cow’s milk too — finest quality! Perfect for restoring strength… I will lower the price! Please accept it — or all my work this morning is wasted!" The steward — dressed in fine clothes — waved him away irritably, as though swatting a fly. "Begone! Last time I trusted you — that milk turned everything fishy! The cook wasted perfectly good flour and eggs — and I was scolded! This stuff — fit only for the cats and dogs! No one wants it! Take it away — and block no one!" The old man sighed helplessly — straining to lift two heavy buckets — and turned away. Su Qianqian’s eyes lit with sudden inspiration. She stepped forward casually — glancing at the buckets — and asked with gentle curiosity. "Old Sir… are those buckets filled with fresh milk — cow’s and goat’s?" The old man — dejected — looked up. Seeing a young lady, travel-stained yet lovely, he replied bitterly. "Aye — miss. Fine nourishing milk! Yet no one wants it! They say it smells… rank. Too strong. Not to their taste." Su Qianqian leaned closer and inhaled. Fresh milk — carrying natural richness — and yes — that slight unavoidable animal tang. But to someone who knew how to process it — that was no flaw at all. She glanced around the market — every pastry shop used flour, sugar, oil, honey, bean paste — **and none used dairy.** A bold idea took shape in her mind — clear and brilliant.