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... ith people getting on and off the train, the crowd is endless. Qin Xiangmei isn't scared of making too many scallion pancakes, nor is she worried about not being able to sell them; her only fear is that she won't be able to handle it all.

She made over one hundred and fifty pancakes, wrapping them neatly in a quilt. Then she ran out to the courtyard and fetched a small wooden cart, the same one she used to play with when she was little—it's like a modern baby stroller, but all made of wo ...

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******

“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

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“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

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His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

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She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

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