Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

Shang Song's hometown.

On the morning of New Year's Eve, the doorbell rang. Shang Song opened the door and saw Lin Zhou carrying a small brocade box, followed by a young man carrying a large mahogany box in each hand.

"Mr. Shang," Lin Zhou smiled, handing over a small brocade box and gesturing for the person behind him to put down the large carrying box. "The patriarch ordered the seals to be sent over. The servants are meticulous; they've brought all the ones that might be needed for your selection."

His tone was gentle, but his eyes held a hint of helplessness.

The items had been delivered to him. Although he knew that sending these items all at once was not what the head of the family wanted, he could no longer make his own selections.

Returning any unnecessary or unauthorized actions, especially those involving the use of work stamps that are documented, is an overreach of authority and a usurpation of power.

Shang Song stared at the two large boxes, then paused, "So many?"

"Everything I usually use is here." Lin Zhou bowed and left briskly with his companion.

Shang Song placed the small brocade box in her hand on the entryway cabinet, then bent down and laboriously lifted the two large boxes, carrying them to the small desk that her father had tidied up that morning.

The wooden box landed on the table with a dull thud.

Hearing the noise, Mr. Shang poked his head out from the kitchen. "Wow! So many!"

"We don't need that many." Xie Jing walked over, his expression indifferent as he glanced at the two large boxes on the desk. He frowned almost imperceptibly, but said nothing more.

He took the small brocade box from the entryway cabinet, took out the inkpad inside, and then lifted the copper clasp on one of the mahogany boxes.

The box is lined with velvet and neatly inlaid with dozens of seals made of stone, jade, wood, and bronze, a dazzling array.

The other box was the same.

His gaze swept over them, and he took out two commonly used private seals.

Mr. Shang wiped his hands as he came out of the kitchen. His gaze was drawn to the seals for a moment, but seeing that Xie Jing had already started grinding ink, he quickly helped to lay out the paper.

Shang Song, however, was captivated by the two boxes.

Seeing that Shang's father and Xie Jing were both focused on the desk, he quietly squatted down next to the two boxes of seals.

There were so many seals inside that his gaze was quickly drawn to a few of the most regular square ones. He carefully picked up one of the dark red Shoushan stones and turned it over.

Research Librarian, National Center for Preservation and Conservation of Ancient Books

Oh, Xie Jing actually works in ancient book restoration; it's his job title.

He put it down and then picked up the sandalwood seal next to him.

Honorary Member of the Central Research Institute of Culture and History

Honorary member? Is that the same as having a nominal position at S University?

He wasn't quite sure, but it seemed pretty impressive.

He then noticed several other signs nearby with similar organization names, all related to culture and cultural relics, and silently noted them down.

Xie Jing had already finished writing several pieces of calligraphy and stopped to affix his seal.

After using the seals, Xie Jing naturally put away the two personal seals and gestured to Shang Song to help close the lid of the box.

Shang Song closed the lid and helped carry the two large suitcases into the bedroom, placing them next to Xie Jing's suitcase.

Mr. Shang looked at the words with great satisfaction for a while before Mrs. Shang called him to the kitchen to help prepare the New Year's Eve dinner.

Xie Jing walked back to the outer kitchen, sat at the dining table, and helped select some simple vegetables.

Shang Song sneaked into the kitchen to help, but his mother chased him out, telling him to just help Xie Jing pick vegetables.

He sat down opposite Xie Jing, but Xie Jing waved his hand to indicate that it wasn't necessary.

Shang Song was disliked everywhere he went. Bored, he took out his phone and subconsciously started searching on Baidu.

Honorary Member of the Central Research Institute of Culture and History

An encyclopedia entry pops up.

His gaze swept quickly across the words, his fingers suddenly stopped, and his eyes widened.

Appointed by the State Council? National-level scholar? High prestige?

He paused, exited the search, and quickly searched for "Research Librarian at the National Center for Preservation and Conservation of Ancient Books".

Senior professional technical title?

His mind was buzzing as he recalled the seals he had casually glanced at later and searched for "Special Consultant of the State Administration of Cultural Heritage".

A message pops up.

This title is usually awarded to top experts who have made outstanding contributions and have profound attainments in cultural relics, archaeology and related fields, and who participate in core affairs such as major decision-making consultations, special reviews and international exchanges of the State Administration of Cultural Heritage...

Suddenly, he remembered the first time he was taken to Xishan, when Lin Zhou said to him in the corridor on the way to Tingyunju.

"Due to the family's heritage and personal achievements, the head of the family also holds other higher-level and more special identities and positions."

"These identities involve advisors, honorary titles, or important positions in the country's cultural and historical affairs, heritage protection, and certain foreign-related fields."

At the time, he was completely confused and shocked, unable to imagine what it meant or why such exaggerated security was needed. Instead, Xie Jing seemed more mysterious and distant to him.

So that's what Lin Zhou was talking about back then.

Shang Song's fingers were a little numb, and he could barely hold the phone.

He slammed the phone screen down onto the table with a loud bang.

His chest heaved violently as he tried to suppress the dizziness that surged up his head.

Xie Jing is not only a professor and an ancient book restorer, but also a top scholar who has been officially awarded the highest honor and senior professional title by a national authoritative institution.

That's why Xishan has such tight security, because his work is related to certain national interests that need to be strictly protected.

Across the table, Xie Jing was startled by his unusual appearance, and looked up at him.

"N-nothing!" Shang Song forced a stiff smile. "My hand...my hand slipped."

Xie Jing looked at him for a while before lowering her eyes again and continuing to process the vegetables in her hands.

His fingers were long and slender, and he broke each string bean into almost equal-length pieces.

Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on his focused profile and on the most ordinary vegetables in his hand.

Shang Song picked up his phone again, but could no longer focus on any text messages.

His gaze once again irresistibly fell on Xie Jing.

Xie Jing sat there, with a slightly old wall as a backdrop, wearing the same style of home clothes as him. His expression was one of focused tranquility, the kind that one only shows when dealing with ancient books or writing calligraphy. But what he was fiddling with in his hands were the cheapest vegetables that would be used for the New Year's Eve dinner that night.

Research librarian at the National Center for Preservation and Conservation of Ancient Books.

Honorary member of the Central Research Institute of Culture and History.

Special consultant to the State Administration of Cultural Heritage.

Even more organizations and titles that he didn't remember.

Such a person, with hands that can write elegant clerical script that penetrates the paper and can also accurately restore ancient books, is doing the most trivial housework.

It was his Professor Xie, the head of the Xie family, who was willing to work hard to overcome contact barriers for him, willing to go home with him, willing to sit in the crowd to write Spring Festival couplets for him, and willing to sit in this old house to pick vegetables for him.

The shock in his heart suddenly began to ferment, transform, brew, and accumulate silently, weighing heavily on his heart.

He suddenly felt a stinging sensation in his nose and eyes, and wanted to cry.

He suddenly tilted his head back, forcing the sudden dampness back down.

I can't give myself away, I can't let my parents notice anything unusual, and I can't let Xie Jing feel troubled.

He took a deep breath and started scrolling through his phone haphazardly, his fingers sliding mechanically, but he had no idea what he was looking at.

All she could hear were her parents talking in the kitchen and the sound of spatulas being swung around, but all she could see in the corner of her eye was Xie Jing's quiet profile as she picked vegetables.

After Xie Jing finished processing the green beans, his gaze swept over Shang Song's still unusual appearance, and his eyes deepened almost imperceptibly.

He looked at it for two seconds, but said nothing. He lowered his eyes again and picked up the chives next to him.