Jin’s House that Evening
Jin's House that Evening
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THE ZHAO FAMILY HOME was one of the newer houses built into the cliff face, with a small terrace garden and windows that overlooked the lower town. Two years old, paid for by his father's successful expansion into the luxury goods trade.
Jin could remember when they'd lived in three cramped rooms above a shop. His mother never forgot either—which was why she was so determined that her children marry well.
"You were late tonight," his mother said as Jin entered the dining room. She was setting out dishes—fragrant stir-fried vegetables, braised pork, steamed buns, a fish soup that smelled incredible.
"Work," Jin said simply, washing his hands at the basin.
His father, Zhao Wei, looked up from where he was pouring tea. "Trouble?"
"Nothing serious. Checking on the new resident at the cursed farm."
His younger sister Mei-Lin perked up from where she was setting out rice bowls. "The plant magic girl? Sara told me about her. Said she's nice. Pretty, too," she added slyly.
"Mei-Lin," their mother said sharply.
"What? I'm just saying what Sara said,” she said innocently.
Jin sat down, accepting tea from his father. The dining room was warm, comfortable, with good furniture and proper dishes—all things his mother took great pride in after years of making do.
"I heard there was a scene in the market," his mother continued, serving soup. "That foolish woman made a spectacle of herself! Using magic in public like some common brawler."
"Lyra was upset," Jin said neutrally.
"Upset because Viktor Andersen finally showed some sense." His mother set down her ladle with emphasis. "That girl was never suitable. Weather magic is flashy, but what use is it really? And her family is drowning in debt, everyone knows it."
"Mother—"
"I'm just stating facts. Viktor courted her for two years and she never once considered that she should make herself actually useful to him.
She expected her magic and her looks to be enough.
" She served rice with slightly more force than necessary.
"Meanwhile, she could have learned business management, could have built connections, could have done a dozen things.
Instead she spent money on dresses and parties. "
"The cursed farm girl seems practical, at least," Mei-Lin offered, clearly trying to help. "Sara says she's already established regular trade. Good quality goods, reliable supply." High praise in a merchant’s house.
Their mother's expression tightened. "Yes. I've heard."
Jin caught his father's eyes. Zhao Wei gave a tiny shrug—you know how she is.
"The wash drum I ordered was delivered today," their father said, changing the subject smoothly. "Should arrive by week's end. Your mother's been wanting one for months."
"Finally!" his mother said. "The maids will appreciate it. Hand washing is brutal on the hands. I don't know why we waited so long." She’d washed her own laundry for many years, so she knew exactly how hard it was.
"Because they're expensive and we just bought this house," Mei-Lin said, reaching for a bun.
"We can afford it now." Their mother's tone was proud. "Your father's business is thriving. We're not scrambling anymore."
No, they weren't. The luxury goods trade had been very good to them. Silk, fine ceramics, jewelry—items for the wealthy families in town and the surrounding estates.
Which was exactly why his mother had strong opinions about suitable marriage partners.
"Speaking of which," his mother said, and Jin suppressed a sigh. Here it came. "Chen Lian's daughter asked about you at the market yesterday."
"Mother—"
"She's a lovely girl. Pretty, well-mannered, from a good family. Her father's textile business is very successful." His mother served vegetables with determined cheerfulness. "You could do much worse."
"I'm not interested in Lian."
"You haven't given her a chance. One dinner, that's all I'm asking."
"I've met her half a dozen times. She's nice. She's boring."
"Boring is stable," his mother said. "Boring is reliable. Boring means you won't have drama and scandal."
"Like plant magic girls living on cursed farms?" Mei-Lin asked innocently.
Their mother's chopsticks clicked sharply against her bowl. "I didn't say that!"
"You were thinking it."
"Mei-Lin!"
"I like the plant magic girl," Mei-Lin announced. "Sara says she's funny and kind and doesn't put on airs. And her silk is apparently incredible; Madame Lin is obsessed."
"Silk trees," their mother said skeptically. "Trees that grow finished garments. It's unnatural."
"It's profitable," their father pointed out mildly. "Madame Lin told me she's never seen quality like it. The girl could make a fortune."
"If the cursed land doesn't kill her first," his mother countered. "That property has been death for everyone who tried to work it. She's been there what, a week? Give it a month and she'll either give up or—" She stopped herself.
"Or die," Mei-Lin finished. "You were going to say die."
"I'm being realistic. That land is dangerous. Everyone knows it."
Jin ate his soup, staying quiet. His mother wasn't wrong—the cursed farm was dangerous. The shield damage, the monster attacks, the complete isolation.
But Wren was handling it. Better than anyone expected. She'd organized her property, established trade relationships, and solved practical problems. She asked smart questions and showed genuine interest in how things worked instead of just expecting help.
And she'd been curious about his ability—not afraid of it, not wanting to exploit it. Just... interested.
"Jin?"
He looked up. His mother was watching him with that too-perceptive expression mothers had. "You're thinking about her."
"I'm thinking about work."
"You're thinking about the cursed farm girl."
"Her name is Wren," Mei-Lin supplied helpfully.
"I don't care what her name is! She's not suitable."
"You haven't even met her," Jin said mildly.
"I don't need to meet her. I know the type—arrives from nowhere, uses unusual magic, lives on cursed land, and already has Viktor Andersen sniffing around. That's trouble, Jin. Nothing but trouble."
His father cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should let Jin make his own decisions about who he spends time with."
"He can make decisions once he's met Lian properly. One dinner. That's all I'm asking."
Jin set down his chopsticks. "I'll think about it."
It was the best she was going to get and she knew it. His mother sighed. "You're as stubborn as your father."
"Thank you," Zhao Wei said mildly, and Jin saw his father's mouth twitch slightly.
The rest of dinner passed with safer topics—his father's latest shipment, Mei-Lin's plans to expand her baking hobby into a small business, town gossip that didn't involve cursed farms or plant magic.
But Jin's mind kept drifting back to Wren standing by her new wash drum, asking thoughtful questions about his ability, genuinely curious instead of wary.
And the way she'd looked at him when he'd told her to call him Jin.
His mother wanted him to marry boring, suitable Lian.
Viktor Andersen wanted Wren's land and probably Wren herself.
And Jin...
Jin wasn't sure what he wanted yet, but he was working on it.