Chapter 12: Beneath the Paper Lanterns
The next evening arrived dressed in quiet expectation.
The streets of Nanjiang were dipped in the soft orange of twilight. Crickets began their steady song as storefronts closed and the last buses rolled through the narrow lanes. Children called out goodnights as doors clicked shut, one by one.
In Lin Mu's courtyard, a warm lantern glowed under the pomegranate tree.
He had set the table once more—two cups, a fresh pot of chrysanthemum and longan flower tea, and a small dish of candied walnuts. The wind was gentle, rustling the mint leaves and shaking loose the scent of basil and lavender.
Lin Mu stood near the gate, waiting.
Xu Qingling arrived just after sunset, exactly as promised.
She wore a simple navy dress, tied at the waist, and a lightweight shawl draped over her shoulders. Her hair was left down tonight, soft and loose, brushing the sides of her neck. She gave him a small smile as she stepped through the gate.
"I thought maybe you changed your mind," she said.
"I almost did," Lin Mu admitted. "But then I remembered something you told me… that peace is worth chasing too."
She stepped closer, watching his eyes.
"You said you wanted to show me something," she said quietly.
He nodded. "It's going to be strange. I promise it's not dangerous. But you'll have to trust me."
"I do."
Lin Mu reached into his pocket and brought out a small, smooth jade token—the same one that summoned the portal to the portable world. He held it between his palms and focused.
The air in front of them shimmered like heat rising off a stone road.
Then, soundlessly, a doorway appeared.
An arch of soft white light, suspended in the air, humming with quiet energy. It wasn't dazzling. It wasn't frightening. It was just… otherworldly.
Xu Qingling's eyes widened, but she didn't step back.
Instead, she looked at Lin Mu and asked only one thing.
"Will I still be me on the other side?"
He smiled. "Yes. More than ever."
She took his hand.
"Then let's go."
---
The transition was seamless.
One blink, and the garden was gone.
They stepped out onto smooth white stone, under a ceiling of stars brighter than any in the Nanjiang sky. The pavilion beside the lotus pond shimmered in the moonlight, every beam of its structure polished and perfect. The water sparkled with silver petals that bloomed only at night.
Xu Qingling let go of his hand slowly and walked forward, stunned.
"This… this place is…"
"Mine," Lin Mu said. "But now I want it to be yours too."
She turned in a slow circle, taking in every detail—the flowering vines on the bamboo trellis, the distant orchards, the plum trees swaying in a breeze that didn't exist in their world.
"It's like a dream," she whispered.
He led her to the pavilion.
"Time moves differently here. A single hour out there is days here. I can grow things, make things, test teas and recipes—develop blends in ways nobody else could. This is how I've been building everything so far."
She sat down on the cushion beside him, eyes never leaving the water.
"And you never told anyone."
"No one would believe me."
"I believe you," she said.
Silence followed—not awkward, but rich, like the pause between two verses of a poem.
Then she looked at him. "Why now? Why show me this now?"
Lin Mu hesitated, then spoke carefully.
"Because what I'm building isn't just a tea business. It's a life. And I've been building it with you beside me every step of the way."
He reached across the table and gently took her hand again.
"If this is going to be a shared future… then I want you to see it all."
She didn't look away.
Her thumb traced the back of his hand slowly.
"I've never felt more trusted than I do right now," she whispered. "And I've never wanted to stay anywhere more than I do right now."
He poured tea—warm and golden—and handed her a cup.
"To Stillness House," he said softly.
She lifted her cup and met his gaze.
"To what comes next," she replied.
---
They spent the evening exploring the space.
Lin Mu showed her the greenhouse, where rare herbs thrived in artificial moonlight. There were tiny medicinal mushrooms with soft blue glow, lotus roots that pulsed faintly with warmth, and herbs she had only ever read about in obscure traditional texts.
He opened a wooden cabinet by the pavilion and revealed dozens of glass jars, each filled with experimental blends. Some were designed to calm the mind. Others soothed digestion, eased breathing, or gently lifted moods.
Xu Qingling picked one up and read the label: "Qingling's Focus."
She looked at him.
"You named one after me?"
"I tried a few blends inspired by how calm you make the room feel when you walk in."
Her cheeks flushed. "You're ridiculous."
"But was I right?"
She uncorked the jar and took a slow breath.
Then nodded.
"It smells like sunrise," she said.
---
They talked for hours, curled side by side on a low bench that overlooked the pond. Fireflies drifted lazily over the surface. The lanterns above swayed on unseen threads of magic.
She leaned her head on his shoulder without saying anything.
And he let it stay there.
Eventually, when the time came to return, Lin Mu activated the portal again.
"Are you sure we have to leave?" she murmured.
"We have a life to live out there," he said. "This place… this is our sanctuary."
She stepped through the portal with him, hand still wrapped around his.
---
Back in the real garden, everything felt smaller—but not lesser.
The stars were dimmer. The tea was cooler.
But her hand in his was just as warm.
"Thank you for showing me," she said.
"Thank you for believing," he replied.
She reached up and adjusted his collar gently, a soft smile on her lips. "Let's make this something real, Lin Mu. Not just in there, but here too."
He nodded.
"I want everything to grow naturally," he said. "The business. Us. No rushing."
She nodded. "Slow is good."
She left not long after, turning once at the gate to wave.
As the night deepened and the garden fell still, Lin Mu stood alone beneath the pomegranate tree.
But he didn't feel alone anymore.
---
The next morning, Nanjiang woke to a new whisper: Stillness House was now accepting weekend appointments.
By phone. Quietly. Limited to five guests per day.
No advertisements. No signs.
And yet—every slot was filled by noon.
---
End of Chapter 12