The drive back to Qinghe Village was peaceful, as always.
Lin Yuan kept the windows open again. The fresh summer air of the outskirts brushed softly against his cheeks. He passed stretches of terraced fields that shimmered in the sunlight like pieces of jade laid across the land. On one side, lazy buffalos chewed grass near a canal. On the other, egrets stood poised like statues beside shallow pools.
The soft hum of the Range Rover's engine blended with the countryside's natural rhythm.
In the passenger seat, Da Huang sat upright, alert and content. Occasionally, the dog would stick his head out the window, tongue lolling as the wind ruffled his golden mane.
Lin Yuan glanced at the rearview mirror and smiled faintly.
Today had been unexpectedly eventful.
The woman at the Municipal Services Center—Xu Qingyu—had left an impression. Not in a loud, dramatic way, but in the same subtle manner that mountain mist clings to pine needles: graceful, quiet, and difficult to forget.
He wasn't sure why he remembered her smile. It wasn't flirtatious. It wasn't even warm in the usual sense. It was composed, professional. But there was an undercurrent of sincerity in her expression—like she genuinely appreciated the countryside and the people who chose to live there.
That was rare.
And Lin Yuan found himself thinking about it as the car climbed the narrow slope back to the village.
---
The moment he returned to the estate, he was greeted by Aunt Zhao, a local who helped tend the herbal garden on the side hill.
"You're back, Xiao Yuan!" she called out, waving with muddy gloves.
She was in her fifties, with sharp eyes and a strong back from decades of rural work. Her husband had passed away early, and her only son worked in Shenzhen, so she spent most of her days helping on Lin Yuan's land.
"Yes, Aunt Zhao," Lin Yuan smiled. "Everything going well here?"
"Better than ever! Your new sprinkler system is magic. Saves me two hours every day!" She beamed, then added curiously, "You really went to the city just to update your ID?"
"More or less," Lin Yuan said, patting Da Huang as they walked in. "Caught up on some paperwork."
Aunt Zhao nodded slowly, then teased, "Did you meet a nice girl while you were there?"
Lin Yuan paused for a second, then gave a rare chuckle. "Sort of."
"Oho!" she grinned. "You're still young, no shame in that! As long as she's not one of those flashy city types who can't cook a pot of rice."
"She works in government," he offered vaguely.
Aunt Zhao blinked, impressed. "Not bad."
---
Later that evening, after a light dinner of steamed sweet corn, stir-fried mushrooms, and stone-milled soybean porridge, Lin Yuan walked into the study and placed his laptop on the ancient pine desk.
Behind him, the shelves were lined with old farming manuals, traditional Chinese medical texts, and several volumes of obscure strategic treatises—leftovers from his grandfather's days.
He tapped open the interface from the black metal card once more. The screen shimmered gently in the air.
> System Access: Lin Yuan – Tier 3 Authority
Recent Activity: Agricultural Consultant Zhao – Task 4 of 12 Active
Farm Efficiency Index: +23% over regional average
Suggested Optimization: Small-Scale Tourist Adaptation (Passive)
Lin Yuan read the last line carefully.
The system, while entirely optional and non-pushy, occasionally offered suggestions.
> Activate Proposal? Y/N
He tapped N.
"No tourists," he murmured. "Not yet."
He leaned back in his chair, watching the flickering cursor on the digital display.
Then he tapped open a new section: Urban Relations > Local Governance Liaison (Passive Observer)
Immediately, the system projected a translucent window showing recent urban development policy drafts and planning updates in the nearby county office.
A name popped up—Xu Qingyu, associated with the rural outreach and ecological zoning committee.
"Hm."
She wasn't just a civil servant. She was in the team that handled infrastructure funding in fringe rural areas.
Lin Yuan didn't intend to interfere. That wasn't his way. But he did allow the system to passively monitor public files for any policies affecting Qinghe Village.
It was better to prepare early.
Especially if he wanted to stay invisible yet fully protected.
---
The following days passed with tranquil rhythm.
Every morning, Lin Yuan rose at five. He and Da Huang would walk the terraced fields, checking on the crops, sampling the soil moisture by hand, and inspecting the bamboo trellises by the cucumbers.
He didn't need to work, not with the network of specialists at his call—but he wanted to work. The land was a living thing, and he believed in touching it daily.
By mid-morning, Aunt Zhao would bring tea and steamed buns, and by noon, Lin Yuan would review new agricultural trial plans quietly in his study.
Sometimes, he summoned silent experts just to brainstorm sustainable fertilizer ideas or to discuss hydroponic tea farming models.
None of them knew his full background.
They knew only what they were instructed to know: a client of high rank and utmost privacy.
Everything was done with respect.
No names. No records.
---
On the fourth day, a surprise arrived in the form of a drone.
It landed quietly just outside the bamboo grove.
Da Huang gave a low bark and padded over, sniffing it once before lying back down in the shade.
Lin Yuan opened the drone case. Inside was a small wooden box with a carved plum blossom on top. No sender information. Just a calligraphy note:
> "A gift for the eco-farmer. From someone who appreciates old roads."
– Q.
Lin Yuan opened the box. Inside was a sealed jar of high-grade Wuyi rock tea.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Qingyu," he murmured.
Apparently, she had resources of her own.
---
That evening, he boiled the tea over a quiet fire, letting the scent fill the wooden veranda. It was smooth, earthy, with a charcoal edge.
As he drank, he opened his laptop and typed a simple reply.
He didn't send it through any modern network.
Instead, the system forwarded the letter via a secure encrypted protocol that bypassed conventional digital channels. It would arrive anonymously, decoded only by the intended recipient.
> Subject: Tea Received
Message:
"Thank you. It tastes like spring nights after rain.
I hope your city window still opens to the west.
– L.Y."
---
Far away, in her office overlooking the city's inner ring road, Xu Qingyu leaned back in her chair, sipping from a mug of the same tea.
She smiled quietly as the reply arrived.
"West-facing," she whispered. "How poetic."
---
Two weeks later, they met again—this time not by accident.
The Qinghe Rural Development Forum was held at a newly opened countryside lecture hall. It was part of a small initiative funded by the provincial eco-tourism and agriculture bureau, aimed at fostering low-impact development zones.
Xu Qingyu was there as one of the guest speakers.
She arrived wearing a light blue cheongsam-patterned blouse and linen trousers, elegant yet understated. Her hair was pinned in a traditional style.
When she stepped onto the stage, her voice was calm, precise, filled with a soft cadence that made even the driest bureaucratic language seem lyrical.
Lin Yuan sat at the back of the modest hall, surrounded by a mix of local farmers and junior officials.
He wasn't there as a speaker. He was just "Lin Yuan from Qinghe."
She spotted him only after the talk, as she exited through the side corridor.
Their eyes met across the courtyard garden where peach blossoms bloomed prematurely in the warmth of early summer.
"You came," she said softly.
"You sent tea," he replied.
They walked together beneath the eaves of the hall.
"Your project is… impressive," she finally said, glancing at him sideways. "Though it seems a little too polished for just one young man."
"I have help."
"Big city resources?" she asked.
"Old family friends," he answered, with a tone that revealed nothing.
Xu Qingyu studied him, then nodded. "Qinghe could use more people like you."
"I'm not trying to lead anything," he said quickly. "Just live quietly."
"Maybe that's the best kind of leadership," she replied.
---
By evening, they stood by the river that flowed along the edge of the village.
Paper lanterns floated downstream—part of a small local celebration for the season's first harvest. Children ran along the banks, giggling, while the elders sat in small circles eating roasted chestnuts.
Lin Yuan held two cups of sweet ginger tea. He handed one to Xu Qingyu.
She accepted it with both hands. "You really don't mind living here? No nightlife, no malls, no takeout?"
"There's peace here," he said simply.
"And in the city?"
He shook his head. "Only noise."
She looked at him, then said softly, "You're a strange one, Lin Yuan."
He smiled. "You're the one who sent tea through a drone."
She laughed, the sound delicate and unforced. "Touché."
---
As the moon rose and the river glimmered under silver light, Lin Yuan and Xu Qingyu stood side by side, neither speaking.
For once, the silence between them wasn't empty.
It was comfortable.
A quiet understanding, still unnamed—but rooted like young bamboo.
In a world that never stopped shouting, their peace was its own kind of power.
And for Lin Yuan, this was enough—for now.
---
[End of Chapter 2 ]