Jiang Xi had a sharp sense of smell.

When he extended his hand toward her, she immediately caught the scent of men’s cologne on him—juniper, sandalwood, and cedarwood blended together into a warm and elegant woody fragrance.

But even such a mature and soothing aroma couldn’t mask the underlying aggression emanating from him.

This man didn’t seem like a good person. Her judgment stemmed partly from intuition and partly from her life experience.

He looked to be around thirty, close to forty, dressed in a tailored shirt and suit pants, wearing an expensive watch. His polished, elite appearance clashed starkly with the casual, lively atmosphere of the snack street. Jiang Daxi, a full generation younger than him, looked like just a young girl. The fact that he approached her, first to pick a fight and then to befriend her, hinted at ulterior motives.

She didn’t shake his hand but instead took a step back.

“Are you here to buy a painting?” Jiang Xi’s expression turned guarded, her tone making it clear she wanted him gone.

“Yes, I’m here to buy a painting.” Qi Shu withdrew his hand without any change in demeanor. “I apologize. Perhaps my words earlier were too blunt and startled you. May I treat you to a cup of coffee to make up for it?”

“I don’t have that habit.”

Jiang Xi rejected him coldly. Not far away, Jiang Xiaochan glanced over, and Jiang Xi gave her a look.

The man didn’t seem like he intended to leave and casually picked up one of her paintings to examine it.

“What’s the price of this painting?”

For other customers, the large paintings sold for fifty yuan, while the smaller ones were twenty.

Not wanting to do business with him, Jiang Xi inflated the price several times over.

“One painting, two hundred yuan.”

“That’s pretty cheap.” Qi Shu didn’t seem surprised and didn’t bargain.

He pulled out a thick wallet and began counting cash to pay her.

“I’ll buy them all. Could you then accompany me for a cup of coffee as a bonus?”

Jiang Xi already found him strange, and his actions further confirmed her suspicion that his intentions were not good. He wasn’t buying the paintings—he was after her.

“No. I said I don’t drink coffee.”

The air grew subtly tense.

Qi Shu remained silent, his brows furrowing slightly as he tapped his fingers on the painting frame.

Jiang Xiaochan stepped beside Jiang Xi, holding her sister’s arm with one hand while discreetly grabbing a small stool from the stand with the other.

He looked up, scanning Jiang Xi’s face. Surprisingly, he didn’t get angry but instead smiled warmly again.

“Then I’m still willing to buy them, just to make friends with you.”

Qi Shu pulled out all the cash from his wallet. A substantial stack of bills was held out under Jiang Xi’s nose.

The sisters exchanged a glance.

“We’re not selling.” They spoke in unison.

It wasn’t easy to refuse that amount of money, given their family’s financial struggles.

Fortunately, the decision was made together, so neither Jiang Xiaochan nor Jiang Xi felt burdened.

Their decisive rejection was something Qi Shu hadn’t anticipated.

Forcing a smile, he looked at Jiang Xi and tried to save face. “No worries. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. If you change your mind, here’s my business card. You can—”

Qi Shu’s words were interrupted by Jiang Xiaochan.

“We’re not doing business with you. Didn’t you hear that?”

Understanding her sister’s intent, Jiang Xiaochan now had no hesitation.

Climbing onto the stool, hands on her hips, Jiang Xiaochan barked like a tiny guard dog set loose from a cage.

“So what if you have a business card? Just because you print one doesn’t make you a big shot! Listen, if you keep staring at my sister with those creepy eyes, I’ll pop your eyeballs out!”

Passersby started to give them curious looks. Jiang Xiaochan’s loud voice came across as particularly coarse and uncultured.

“What’s wrong with this kid?” Qi Shu tugged at his collar in frustration and turned to Jiang Xi. “She’s your sister? With behavior like that, aren’t you going to discipline her?”

“She’s my sister.”

Jiang Xi didn’t stop Jiang Xiaochan or ask her to tone it down. Instead, she joined in.

“She’s right. If you keep staring at me, I’ll pop your eyeballs out!” She clenched her fists and glared fiercely, even more intimidating than Jiang Xiaochan.

The two of them, united in their lack of decorum, successfully drove Qi Shu away.

With seamless teamwork, the sisters high-fived in celebration.

“Where did Lin Jia run off to?” Jiang Xiao Chan jumped down from the stool, patting her chest as she tried to calm down. “Why didn’t he show up to play the hero? Leaving us two weak girls alone—so dangerous!”

Jiang Xi quickly put the disturbed drawings back in place. “I told him to go home first.”

“Looks like, when it comes down to it, you can always count on me, Jiang Xiaochan.” She was proud of herself, nearly grinning up to the sky.

Jiang Xi didn’t burst her bubble. “Yes, yes, you’re amazing.”

The business card Qi Shu left behind was completely ignored. It had fallen by the roadside and was stepped on by passersby. Dirty footprints covered the once-slick and stylish title printed on it.

Soon after, a cleaning lady swept it up as trash.

Even though they’d driven away a “big client,” their street stall had still been a success that night. Including the portrait drawing, Jiang Xi had earned a total of 230 yuan.

Her first money-making venture was a success.

And this was just the foot traffic before the summer break. Jiang Xi planned to come back to set up a stall after the high school entrance exams—and this time, she’d drag her mom along.

Back at home.

Jiang Xi handed over all the money she had earned to her mom.

Meng Xuemei thought the two kids were just fooling around and hadn’t expected selling portraits to be so profitable. She was thrilled and asked them excitedly about their experience that day.

Jiang Xiaochan loved to talk and boasted about how she brought in customers, how cleverly she recruited Lin Jia to be their model, and of course, she didn’t forget to recount her brave moment with Qi Shu.

What Jiang Xi and Jiang Xiaochan didn’t expect was that their mom seemed puzzled after hearing their story.

“He was so generous. Why didn’t you just sell to him? Why didn’t you even keep his business card?”

A sudden, inexplicable anger flared up in Jiang Xi’s chest.

“Mom, that’s not right. Are you really that insensitive to this kind of thing?”

Realizing what she was implying, Meng Xuemei turned to look at Jiang Xiaochan.

The three of them fell into silence.

“Daxi,” her mom said awkwardly, biting her lip. “I was just speaking casually. I don’t know much. Don’t take it to heart.”

“I know. I’m not trying to make a big deal out of it.”

Jiang Xi tried to suppress the anger, but it only burned stronger. She didn’t even understand why her mom’s one comment could make her feel like this.

It definitely wasn’t just that one sentence that upset her. It felt like something else—something Jiang Xi couldn’t quite explain.

She was so angry, she wanted to cry.

Before the tears could fall, Jiang Xi left the table and went back to the attic.

“What’s wrong with sis?” Jiang Xiaochan asked worriedly.

Meng Xuemei shook her head and whispered, “Ever since your dad came to her in a dream, she’s been acting strange.”

Jiang Xi wasn’t planning to sleep yet.

She was still too angry. Even if she lay down, she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

So instead, she decided to be productive and began sorting through the drawings she could sell in the attic.

All those art classes over the past two years hadn’t gone to waste. Jiang Daxi had been diligent, and she had filled a whole basket with her work. She was especially good at painting landscapes. She rarely drew people.

Jiang Xi noticed herself carefully comparing the styles of each piece.

At that moment, she had to admit—Qi Shu’s words were still echoing in her mind.

“The styles are different. It’s obvious they weren’t done by the same person.”

Why did his words bother her so much?

That guy was just trying to get her attention. He wanted to stir things up. He was pretending to understand something he didn’t.

Her style might be different from the past because she was older now and her skills had improved. Or maybe in this timeline, Jiang Daxi had taken art classes—while in her original one, she hadn’t.

Jiang Xi tried to comfort herself with all kinds of explanations.

Stop thinking about it.

She tried to push the thought away, like trying to shoo a giant pink elephant out of the room.

But the more she told herself not to think about it, the more the question echoed in her mind:

Was he right?

And if they really are different—why?