At least when Jiang Chenlin came, he wouldn’t be sitting so properly; he’d probably have his feet propped up on the sofa armrest, half-lying down.

As Su Qingran’s mind wandered, Pei Jingyan seemed to sense something, put down his document, and stood up.

Su Qingran asked, “Mr. Pei, when did you arrive? Why didn’t you call for me?”

She realized afterward that she had habitually used a formal address. It felt awkward to correct it now, and she wasn’t sure how she should address him.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind. He replied, “Not long ago. I saw you were busy, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

As he spoke, he walked to stand behind Su Qingran when she sat down on the sofa.

“Qingran, is your neck sore? I learned some acupoint therapy before; if you trust me—” Pei Jingyan leaned forward slightly, seeking her permission.

Out of reflex, simply upon mention of her neck, Su Qingran’s hand moved ahead of her thoughts to press on the sore spot on the left side of her neck.

“Got it,” Pei Jingyan said.

Su Qingran wanted to explain it was just a subconscious reaction, but he had already placed his hand on her trapezius.

When Su Qingran carved, she would tie her long hair up completely, so now only a few soft, stray hairs framed her slender neck.

At the moment Pei Jingyan’s fingertips made contact, his breath slightly deepened.

He could also feel Su Qingran stiffen for a moment.

Neither spoke, and the room was silent except for a light trail of incense smoke, warm and peaceful.

At first, Su Qingran felt uneasy, but as pressure applied to her shoulders and neck, the tension eased into a soothing soreness, gradually relaxing her body and the unease in her heart.

“Is the pressure okay?” Pei Jingyan asked.

“A little more, please,” Su Qingran replied.

His long, strong fingers pressed with just the right amount of force, transitioning Su Qingran from initial soreness to a deep relaxation, and she felt her muscles gradually release tension, just as her initially awkward heart began to soften.

After a while.

“That’s much better.” She turned around, her curiosity piqued. “How do you know how to do this?”

Pei Jingyan walked around from behind the sofa. “It never hurts to have a few extra skills.”

Su Qingran laughed, “What, are you planning to become a massage therapist if the company stops making money?”

She pictured it: a tall, handsome massage therapist. Wouldn’t all the wealthy ladies go crazy?

Watching her smile—the first one he’d seen since the engagement dinner—Pei Jingyan felt as though his entire world had brightened.

He said, “So, is Qingran planning to give me a tip?”

She hadn’t expected Pei Jingyan to joke back. She was about to reply when a thought suddenly came to her.

“I actually do have something for you.” She stood and went into her workspace. “I carved a Heart Sutra pendant recently, and I thought it suited you.”

Pei Jingyan followed her into the workshop, stepping into her personal workspace for the first time, as if formally entering her world.

She took out the unfinished Heart Sutra pendant from a box. “I was inspired last month while carving ‘Wu Dao,’ and I thought it matched your vibe.”

So when Jiang Chenlin asked for it, she hadn’t given it to him.

Amber doesn’t weigh much, but in Pei Jingyan’s hand, the pendant seemed to carry a touching weight.

He realized then that he wasn’t just a stranger to her, after all.

All those nights spent in quiet, unrequited love now felt as if they had an answer, embodied by this Heart Sutra pendant.

“Qingran, thank you.” His Adam’s apple moved subtly, and his tone was the same as usual, just slightly deeper.

“I already have an idea for the finishing touches,” Su Qingran replied. “I’ll finish carving it for you soon.”

Pei Jingyan’s gaze fell on her workbench, where the Loulan stone already had a faint outline. “Qingran, what are you planning to carve?”

At the mention of carving, Su Qingran’s interest sparked, and she invited him to sit beside her. She began to explain, “When I saw this stone, I immediately thought of the Silk Road: the yellow sands, the caravans, the setting sun, and far in the distance, the Mogao Caves…”

Pei Jingyan listened intently. As they looked over the stone together, the space between them grew closer, and a stray lock of hair at her forehead lightly brushed past his nose.

He was briefly taken aback.

Subtly, he shifted back just a little, asking, “Qingran, have you ever visited the Silk Road?”