Yan Tuo didn’t “stroll” back until evening.
If they had only gone to the flower market, it wouldn’t have taken this long. But as soon as they left, Feng Mi secretly told him that the flower market was just an excuse—Aunt Lin wanted Lu Xian and Lin Ling to visit more places together to develop their relationship.
So they saved the flower market for last, first visiting the Bell and Drum Towers, then touring the Muslim Quarter, watching a shadow puppet show, walking around the ancient city wall, and finally checking in at the Shaanxi History Museum—making it a complete outing with shopping, entertainment, walking, and cultural activities.
The flower market was especially lively, with the approaching New Year bringing several times the usual number of flower buyers. Yan Tuo initially wanted to buy white plum blossoms, but after checking several shops, none gave him the right feeling—he felt the one in Nie Jiuluo’s courtyard was still the best, and all others seemed like cheap imitations. In the end, he selected several bundles of fresh-cut branches: rose hips, red plum blossoms, golden dragon willows, and crabapple flowers.
Fresh-cut branches weren’t just about putting them in vases—they needed trimming, styling, and arranging. This became Lin Ling’s task, as her quiet nature made her well-suited to such time-consuming handwork.
After returning to the villa, they carried the fresh-cut branches to the small living room on the third floor. Lin Ling immediately busied herself with finding flower conditioning buckets, scissors, and various vases. Feng Mi helped too, while only Yan Tuo showed no interest, turning to head back to his room.
Passing the dining room, he saw dinner preparations were underway, with the sounds and enticing aromas of cooking coming from the kitchen.
How nice—the day had passed so peacefully. He could wash his face first, rest for a few minutes, then have dinner.
Yan Tuo smiled unconsciously, instinctively quickening his pace.
As he approached his door, his heart skipped a beat.
His door was wide open, with the lights on inside.
Before Yan Tuo could figure out what was happening, a cleaning lady wearing a housekeeping apron walked out carrying a cleaning bucket, followed by Lin Xirou. Lin Xirou had been about to instruct the cleaning lady about something when she suddenly caught sight of Yan Tuo and smiled gracefully: “Xiao Tuo, you’re back. What perfect timing—your room has just been cleaned.”
Then he remembered—Aunt Lin had mentioned this morning that she’d hired cleaning help today.
He’d thought they would only clean the common areas.
Yan Tuo’s expression stiffened slightly: “Oh… Aunt Lin, if you’d told me earlier, I could have… tidied up first.”
Lin Xirou laughed at his unnecessary concern: “Your room isn’t messy anyway.”
True, his room wasn’t messy, but there were things in his room—important things.
Yan Tuo’s heart began pounding violently. He moved slightly aside to let Lin Xirou and the cleaning lady pass, listening to them chat about needing more people, dust-mitting the bedding before New Year’s, and waxing the floors. After standing frozen for several seconds, he rushed inside, locking the door behind him.
Once inside, he first checked the bookshelf, and his mind went blank at what he saw.
Although he didn’t remember the exact arrangement of the books, he had a clear feeling: while the books were still on the shelf, appearing the same as when he left with some standing and some stacked, they had been moved—all of them.
Yan Tuo’s scalp tingled as he quickly grabbed the stepladder from the corner, climbed to the highest shelf, moved aside a stack of books from one section, carefully shifted the false backing, and felt inside with his fingers.
He found it—the diary, his mother’s diary was still there.
Yan Tuo sagged against the shelf in relief, his legs slightly trembling.
However, before he could fully catch his breath, the door handle suddenly twisted back and forth, and Lin Xirou’s voice came through: “Xiao Tuo, why are you locking the door?”
Yan Tuo’s whole body tensed. He quickly descended, rapidly returned the stepladder to the corner, took off his coat, and messed up his shirt while taking two steps at a time to open the door.
When the door opened, Lin Xirou looked at him with furrowed brows.
Yan Tuo explained: “I was changing clothes.”
Lin Xirou: “Why be scared of people seeing you change clothes? It’s not like you were changing pants.”
As she spoke, she walked into the room: “The cleaning lady says she left her work badge in your room. Where is it?”
She glanced around the room, walked straight to the bed, and bent down to retrieve a badge with a loop from under the bed: “This cleaning lady is so careless.”
Yan Tuo searched for something to say: “Is the cleaning… finished for today?”
Lin Xirou said: “Not yet, we’ve barely started. Today we only did the living room, hallway, and your room. They’ll continue tomorrow. A light cleaning before New Year’s Eve, then a thorough cleaning before the New Year—everything needs to be spotless to welcome the new year properly.”
Then she urged Yan Tuo: “Come on, let’s go eat.”
Yan Tuo agreed: “I’ll come after changing clothes.”
After Lin Xirou left, he couldn’t help looking up at the bookshelf again.
They would continue cleaning tomorrow.
Carrying the diary on his person wasn’t safe—if it accidentally fell out, that would be disastrous. Hiding it in another room wouldn’t work either, who knew when that room would be “cleaned” next—for today, better leave it here, since this room had just been cleaned and was now a “safe zone.”
Dinner was elaborate, but Yan Tuo couldn’t taste what he was eating.
The cleaning incident had left his heart suspended in anxiety, unable to determine if this was truly just routine pre-New Year cleaning or if he had fallen under further suspicion.
For safety’s sake, he had to assume the worst—that he was under suspicion. As for which aspect had raised alarm, he couldn’t be sure. As he’d told Nie Jiuluo, “being involved in too many things, many weren’t done perfectly,” and wouldn’t hold up under strict investigation.
He ate very slowly, chewing and swallowing gradually.
The only thing he could be certain of was that Aunt Lin and the others merely suspected him, without concrete evidence. After all, during the most dangerous occasions, like Dog Ya’s execution or dealing with Chen Fu and Han Guan, there had been no surveillance.
Now, with major events in progress, there were two things he had to ensure for things to go smoothly—
First, he couldn’t let Aunt Lin know he had the list. This was manageable, as it was all memorized, with the written version destroyed.
Second, he couldn’t let Aunt Lin know he was cooperating with Lin Ling. This was also feasible because ever since Lin Ling’s “confession rejection and running away from home” years ago, their outward relationship had remained lukewarm—not distant, but not close.
…
Across the table, Feng Mi suddenly burst out laughing: “Yan Tuo, you’re eating like you’re embroidering—where has your mind wandered off to?”
Yan Tuo was startled, and Lin Xirou shot Feng Mi a glance: “What’s the fuss about? Can’t someone be lost in thought?”
…
Yan Tuo finished eating first. Pushing away his bowl and chopsticks, he stood up and said: “Lin Ling, come to my room later, I have something to discuss with you.”