After finishing her bath, Song Nianchu quietly slipped back into the room. Once in bed, she held her breath and listened for any movement outside.

Mu Shi’an seemed to still be carving. He would probably go to bathe soon. And after his bath… would he want to do something?

Song Nianchu subtly shifted further to one side, leaving a large empty space for Mu Shi’an.

With Mu Haoxuan and Mu Yongnian both away today, the timing and conditions were perfect—all that was left was the final push.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she suddenly remembered something. She reached under her pillow and pulled out the “manual” Wu Zhenggui had given her.

She thought she’d review the key points one last time before the “exam.” But even after going through the entire book, Mu Shi’an still hadn’t returned.

Song Nianchu tucked the book back under her pillow and changed positions to continue waiting.

Yet somehow, she ended up falling asleep and didn’t wake until the next morning.

The moment she opened her eyes, she felt a brief moment of confusion. Memories of last night rushed back, and she immediately turned to look beside her.

No one was there!

Song Nianchu bolted upright in bed. When had she fallen asleep last night? Had Mu Shi’an even returned to the room?

She threw off the covers and hurried out of bed, only to nearly collide with Mu Shi’an as she opened the door—he had been about to enter.

“You’re awake,” Mu Shi’an said softly.

Song Nianchu only reached up to his chin, and when she lifted her gaze, it landed on his thin lips. The memories of last night instantly flooded back.

She averted her eyes awkwardly. “So… did you not sleep at all last night?”

“No, I just woke up not long ago.”

“You came back last night? When? Why didn’t you wake me?” Song Nianchu asked, astonished.

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Song Nianchu: “…”

Another perfect opportunity wasted.

“Here, take a look at this.” Sensing her disappointment, Mu Shi’an quickly handed her what he was holding.

“What is this?” Song Nianchu frowned at the stack of wooden boards.

“Carved plates I made for you. You can buy some ink today and try them out,” Mu Shi’an explained.

“You finished them so quickly?” Her attention was instantly diverted.

She picked up the top plate. Though she couldn’t decipher the design, the carving was exquisite and smooth, making it hard to put down.

“The patterns weren’t complicated, so it didn’t take long.” He didn’t mention that he had worked late into the night and woken early this morning to put the finishing touches on them.

Song Nianchu had helped him so much—this was just a small token of his gratitude.

“This is amazing! I’ll buy some ink today!” Song Nianchu examined the plates with excitement.

Seeing her radiant smile, Mu Shi’an’s lips curved slightly as well.

Bright, cheerful expressions suited her far better than the dejected look from earlier.

With the carved plates occupying her thoughts, Song Nianchu quickly forgot about the missed opportunity from last night.

She enthusiastically prepared breakfast, and after eating, she took the ingredients to the village office.

The morning was spent in a flurry of activity. Once all the dishes were ready, Aunt Wu packed them into Song Nianchu’s basket.

“Nianchu, your deliveries keep getting bigger. Maybe we should go with you to help carry some of the load,” Aunt Wu said, eyeing the overflowing basket with concern.

“Aunt Wu, this is nothing for me. You all should go home and rest—come back in the afternoon.” Song Nianchu effortlessly lifted the basket with one hand and strode out of the village office.

Meng Yingying, standing at the back, kept her gaze fixed on the direction Song Nianchu had gone.

If only she had that kind of strength, maybe she wouldn’t have ended up in such a miserable state.

“Alright, everyone, let’s head home and come back early this afternoon,” Aunt Wu called out after Song Nianchu left.

Meng Yingying quickly lowered her eyes and followed the others out.

——

Song Nianchu delivered the goods to Manager Li, who increased the daily canned food order to fifty portions. Naturally, Song Nianchu happily agreed.

After collecting the payment, she headed to the market to restock ingredients, then stopped by the supply and marketing cooperative to ask about ink. Fortunately, they had some, though the selection was limited—only red, yellow, and blue.

Still, with these three colors, she could mix any shade she needed. It would be a bit tedious, but she had no other choice, so she bought them.

The errand at the cooperative took longer than expected, and by the time Song Nianchu returned home, the helpers had already left. Only Mu Shi’an remained in the yard.

The space was much tidier than yesterday—wood shavings had been swept into a corner, and the logs were neatly stacked to one side.

But Song Nianchu, preoccupied with testing the prints, didn’t notice these details.

“Mu Shi’an, I bought the ink! Let’s try out your carved plates right away!” she called excitedly.

“Alright.” Mu Shi’an set down his work and followed her into the main room.

“Only these three colors?” he asked, eyeing the ink on the table.

“It’s fine. With these, we can mix any color. Could you get me a bowl from the kitchen?” Song Nianchu set her basket aside.

“Sure.” Mu Shi’an turned to leave.

“Oh, and bring some water and a chopstick too!” she added.

“Got it.”

When Mu Shi’an returned, he carried a bowl and a chopstick in one hand and a ladle full of water in the other.

Song Nianchu quickly took them. “Thanks.”

“By the way, how do we use these plates?” she asked, pausing before mixing the colors.

Mu Shi’an laid out all five plates in front of her.

“There are five plates, each corresponding to a different part of your design. This one matches this section here…” He patiently explained, his voice as soothing as a mountain spring, calming and steady.

As she listened, Song Nianchu’s mind began to wander, her gaze drifting toward Mu Shi’an.

He’d make a great teacher. But with his looks, she wondered if his students could even focus on his lessons.

“Pay attention!” Mu Shi’an noticed her distraction and lightly tapped her head.

Song Nianchu snapped back to reality, clutching her head in surprise. “You hit me?!”

Mu Shi’an froze for a moment before awkwardly composing himself.

“Sorry… force of habit from teaching students.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep