The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 11

Night fell unusually early that evening.

Jiang Zhinan watched as A’ning finished the last line of her calligraphy, then told her to pack up. Afterward, she urged her, “Go on now, change into something warmer.”

“Miss, it’s already so late,” A’ning said, puzzled. Her lovely eyes blinked softly, filled with innocent confusion. “Where are we going?”

“Out for a walk,” Jiang Zhinan replied. “Today’s the annual Lantern Festival—it’s lively out there.”

“You mean, you’re taking me to see the lanterns?” A’ning froze in surprise.

For someone usually so calm and clever, she now looked utterly dazed, standing there like a little wooden figurine. Jiang Zhinan couldn’t help but laugh, her lips curving into a smile.

“Of course,” she said, patting A’ning’s shoulder gently. “Don’t worry about tidying up now—just go and change into something warm.”

That light touch seemed to bring A’ning back to her senses. She murmured, “I understand,” her tone quiet but steady.

Though her expression remained composed, the faint joy in her eyes and brows was impossible to miss.

Soon, she disappeared from Jiang Zhinan’s sight.

“She’s still just a child,” Jiang Zhinan said to the system while waiting. “The moment she hears she’s going out, she lights up.”

The system thought: That’s not because she’s going out—it’s because she’s going out with you.

But it didn’t say that aloud. Instead, it only agreed mildly, “You’re right.”

Jiang Zhinan smiled, chatted idly with the system for a bit longer, and when A’ning returned dressed for the cold, she had two lanterns prepared. Each carried one as they left the manor together.

Since this was the first time she’d ever taken A’ning out for leisure, Jiang Zhinan had deliberately kept it low-key—no attendants, no guards, just the two of them.

They slipped through the gates, crossed a few narrow alleys, and soon arrived at the busiest street in the city.

It was just as Jiang Zhinan had said—bustling beyond words.

The entire street glowed with lanterns of every shape and color, hanging from every eave and archway, illuminating the night until it seemed the stars had descended to earth.

Vendors lined both sides of the street—selling steaming buns, bright paper umbrellas, and glistening candied hawthorns.

Jiang Zhinan, walking beside A’ning, glanced sideways at her. The girl’s lips curved slightly, her eyes shimmering with the reflection of a thousand lights.

“Is there anything you want?” Jiang Zhinan asked, a trace of fond amusement in her tone.

A’ning shook her head lightly. “A’ning doesn’t want anything.”

“Really?” Jiang Zhinan arched a brow. “Then why have you been staring at that man’s candied hawthorns for so long?”

A’ning’s cheeks flushed at once.

She had never eaten candied hawthorns before—had never even had the chance. Even though she knew her sense of taste was faint, she still longed to try them.

When she was small, she had saved coins for nearly half a year just to buy a single skewer—only for the money to be taken away by that man before she could use it.

Perhaps that was why those glossy, sugar-coated red fruits still lingered in her memory like an unfulfilled dream.

“If you want something, just tell me,” Jiang Zhinan said softly, seeing through her thoughts. “Don’t tell me you think I can’t afford it?”

“Of course not!” A’ning said quickly, flustered.

“Then that’s settled.” Jiang Zhinan smiled and took her gently by the sleeve, leading her toward the vendor’s stall.

A’ning didn’t resist, letting herself be pulled along. For a brief moment, her lips curved in a faint, secret smile.

“One skewer of candied hawthorns, please,” Jiang Zhinan said to the vendor as she reached for her purse.

“Miss, why don’t you buy one for yourself too?” A’ning asked softly.

“Because I’m an adult,” Jiang Zhinan said with a light laugh. “Candied hawthorns are for children.”

She meant it casually—after all, in her original world, they were indeed a treat for kids. She hadn’t eaten one in years.

But A’ning misunderstood, assuming she meant her.

“Then I don’t want it either,” A’ning said quickly, shaking her head before Jiang Zhinan could pay. “Let’s just go.”

Realizing what had happened, Jiang Zhinan felt a pang of guilt. The girl was sulking—because of her careless words.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” she said gently.

“Then who were you talking about?” A’ning asked quietly.

Jiang Zhinan paused—she really didn’t have an answer.

“Miss, you said you’d buy—can’t go back on your word now!” the vendor interrupted, clearly unhappy at their hesitation. “It’s hard enough making a living out here. Show a little mercy, will you?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t buy it,” Jiang Zhinan said, placing the coins into his hand. “Here—thank you.”

The vendor brightened immediately, handing over the skewer with a grin.

A’ning looked at it longingly but refused to eat.

After a few failed attempts to coax her, Jiang Zhinan gave up. She lifted the skewer herself, taking small, deliberate bites as they walked.

They crossed a bridge and came upon a raised platform where performers were putting on a show—balancing bowls, sword tricks, fire-breathing, acrobatics—the air alive with excitement.

Jiang Zhinan paid for two seats in front, choosing a good spot for them both. By then, only three candied fruits were left on the skewer.

“Do you want one?” she asked again.

A’ning was about to shake her head when Jiang Zhinan added with a smile, “I’ve already eaten some. Let’s just say tonight we’re both children. If you don’t take it now, there won’t be any left.”

At that, A’ning finally reached out and accepted it.

Jiang Zhinan watched her take a bite, her own lips curving with quiet warmth. “Good?”

“Good,” A’ning murmured. And somehow—though her taste should have been dulled—she really could taste a hint of sweetness.

Whether it came from the sugar or from her heart, she couldn’t tell.

Jiang Zhinan turned back toward the stage, watching in silence.

A’ning followed her gaze for a moment, then found her attention drifting back to Jiang Zhinan instead.

Her lady was far lovelier than any performance—lovelier than all the beauty in the world.

A chill wind swept through, and Jiang Zhinan instinctively shivered.

Seeing this, A’ning quickly slipped off her outer robe and draped it over her shoulders.

“I’m not cold,” Jiang Zhinan said softly, her voice carrying a faint nasal tone. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m fine.” A’ning shook her head, then scooted her chair closer and extended her hand a little nervously. “If you don’t believe me, feel my hand, Miss.”

It was the first time she had ever taken the initiative to reach for Jiang Zhinan, and her heart raced with nervousness.

Jiang Zhinan didn’t think much of it—she simply took her hand as requested and smiled. “You’re right. It’s warm.”

“See?” A’ning smiled faintly. “Then let me keep you warm, Miss.”

Touched by her sincerity, Jiang Zhinan could only nod in agreement.

Above them, fireworks bloomed—bright and magnificent, lighting up the sky.

The performance reached its climax, cheers and applause echoing all around.

In that moment, A’ning wished time would stop.

Just stop here—where their fingers were intertwined, where her world felt safe and sweet.

How wonderful that would be.