Bai Qingqing gave a sheepish smile after speaking. “Just my shallow speculation, that’s all. Young Master Pei, take it as nothing more than a joke. I simply think that if there truly is some hidden injustice, then no matter the means by which it comes to light, it’s understandable.”

“What you said makes perfect sense, Miss Bai. I don’t find it shallow at all. I’ve heard many takes on the rhyme—most treat it as nothing more than amusement. Some old tale dredged up again, stale and uninteresting. It’s rare to hear someone speak of it like you do. It’s… moving.”

Bai Qingqing grew more bashful. “Don’t praise me like that. I was really just speaking offhand. I’m quite shallow, truly.”

Pei Lingshu laughed softly behind his hand. He found her utterly delightful—exactly like the girl he remembered from childhood.

“Big Sister!”

Bai Yaoyao returned, her cheeks flushed from the heat after watching the street performers. She rushed over, poured herself a cup of tea, and downed it in one go. She hadn’t even caught her breath before she launched excitedly into her tale.

“The performance was amazing! Someone swallowed fire—actual fire! It was so bright and he just shoved it into his mouth. My heavens! It’s lucky his mouth was big enough or else…”

It was only then that Bai Yaoyao noticed Pei Lingshu. Her chattering stopped cold, lips still parted in mid-sentence, eyes wide like saucers. She froze on the spot.

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Bai Qingqing introduced them, “This is Young Master Pei—we met once at a poetry gathering. And this is my younger sister.”

Pei Lingshu rose and greeted her with calm elegance. Bai Yaoyao’s eyes grew even wider. She took several hurried steps back, trying to hide behind her sister.

“Yaoyao?”

Bai Qingqing looked at her in confusion. Her sister was always confident and poised—especially around handsome men. Could it be that Pei Lingshu was just too handsome, and Yaoyao was actually… shy?

Once Bai Yaoyao’s initial shock wore off, she sneaked a finger to poke her sister’s waist and whispered from behind her shoulder, “Sister, Sister, how do you know Lord Fanghe? You said you saw him at the poetry gathering? But he wasn’t there—how did you see him?”

“Hm? Lord Fanghe?”

Bai Qingqing was all confusion, and Pei Lingshu, having caught her words, offered a wry smile. “Miss, I must beg you not to use that name. It was a nickname a few unruly friends gave me in jest. Somehow it spread. Please, just call me by my name—or Pei Dage, if you prefer.”

With those words, Pei Lingshu effectively acknowledged he was indeed the famous Lord Fanghe. Bai Qingqing’s eyes went round with surprise. “You really are the renowned Lord Fanghe? Well, I suppose that does make sense. I always thought Pei Dage was every bit as exceptional as the so-called Lord Fanghe—turns out you’re one and the same.”

“If you keep praising me like that, I fear I’ll no longer be able to sit still.”

Bai Qingqing laughed mischievously, a bright, gurgling laugh. Bai Yaoyao finally stepped out from behind her, glancing between the two with wide eyes. “Sister, you really know Lord Fanghe? Heavens, heavens! Yuan Yin and the others keep dragging me out with them hoping to bump into him by chance. I thought he’d already left Xuancheng!”

Pei Lingshu turned to Bai Yaoyao. “Your sister calls me Pei Dage. Would you be willing to do the same? Truly, that title… even I find it rather ridiculous to hear.”

“How could it be ridiculous! We all think it sounds ethereal and otherworldly—it matches Pei Dage’s celestial bearing perfectly!”