The Yuelao Office’s jasmine incense became a familiar backdrop to Chen’s mornings. Three weeks after earning her formal badge, she sat at her desk, carefully rolling a “Patience Talisman” between her fingers—Zhang’s suggestion for her second official match, a pair of bickering florists. The Porcelain Goblin, now a permanent stowaway in her desk drawer, poked his head out, munching on a osmanthus cookie. “Your thread-glowing thing is acting up again,” he muttered, nodding at her wrist.
Chen glanced down. A faint silver shimmer lingered, but it no longer tugged, just a gentle reminder of her past mistake-turned-lesson. “It’s settling,” she said, sliding the talisman into an envelope. “Not everything needs fixing. Speaking of which, have you been sneaking into Shen’s shop again? He mentioned his jasmine tea stash is shrinking.” The goblin froze, crumbs on his chin. “I was… supervising. His antique shelves are still wobbly. Someone has to keep him from breaking another vase.”
Laughter drifted from the entrance. Li, her red-thread pin glinting, dropped a stack of Marriage Books on Chen’s desk. “Heard your first match is thriving,” she said, flipping to a page marked with Shen and Su’s names. “Xiao Yu saw them at the market yesterday. Shen was carrying Su’s bakery supplies, and she was helping him price a set of old teacups. They’re co-managing the shops now, taking turns between curios and macarons.”
Chen’s chest warmed. She’d kept her distance, as Zhang advised, only glimpsing them once through Shen’s shop window: Su arranging lavender macarons on a vintage tray, Shen laughing as the goblin stole a cookie from her display. No loose signs, no runaway dogs—just quiet, ordinary warmth. “Good,” she said, turning back to her talisman. “My job there is done.”
The goblin huffed, hopping onto the Marriage Book. “You call that done? You haven’t even heard the best part.” He paused for dramatic effect, though Chen could see his excitement. “This morning, Shen was muttering about ring sizes. Su caught him measuring her finger while she was packing a cake box. They’re planning an engagement—small, just Ms. Li and a few old classmates. He’s even letting her pick the osmanthus cake flavor for the party.”
Chen’s pen froze. A soft glow pulsed from the Marriage Book’s page, where Shen and Su’s names were now linked by a bright, knotted thread. For a moment, she remembered her first day—panicked, fumbling, handing over the wrong talisman. Now, here was the result: not perfect magic, but two people choosing each other, with a little help along the way.
Wang, the office’s tea enthusiast, wandered over with a pot of jasmine tea. “Heard the news too,” he said, pouring Chen a cup. “Shen dropped by yesterday to buy a vintage teapot for the engagement. Said it’s for the ‘lucky tea ceremony’ Su’s grandma wants.” He nodded at Chen’s talisman. “Ready for the florists?”
Chen smiled, picking up the envelope. The goblin curled back into her drawer, already dozing with a cookie crumb on his forehead. Outside, the sun shone on Maple Street—on a curiosity shop with a macaron display in the window, on two people building a life together, on a new Yuelao ready for her next task. Ordinary days, she thought, sipping her tea. That’s where the real magic lives.
