The inn's afternoon crowd thinned as evening approached. Mei sipped her cooling tea and studied each person who entered. A merchant argued with the innkeeper about room rates. Two farmers discussed crops near the fire. None of them looked her way. Her announcement had been up for hours, but no one had come. She pressed her palms against the rough wooden table. Perhaps starting a matchmaking house required more than fine rooms and a posted notice. She needed to understand what people truly wanted, what made them trust a stranger with their family's future. Tomorrow she would return to the square and listen instead of wait. Dawn broke cold and clear. Mei walked back to her golden building and looked at the empty grounds. Guests would need a place to refresh before meetings. She arranged for workers to build a pool near the entrance. They carved stone and placed a statue of a couple holding hands at its center. The water ran clear and clean. Families could wash away travel dust before sitting down to talk. Small things mattered when building trust. The evening gatherings would need light. Mei commissioned a tall statue holding a lantern. The workers positioned it where paths crossed on the grounds. When darkness fell, the flame would guide visitors safely. She watched them secure the base and felt something shift inside her. Each addition made her dream more real, more solid. Inside, she found what she needed most. The library filled an entire wing, its shelves stretching high. Books lined every wall, each one holding records of families and bloodlines. She pulled down a heavy volume and opened it. Names, marriages, children, deaths—all recorded in careful script. This was where she would learn. This was where she would study which families might blend well, which distant bloodlines could unite. Her fingers traced the pages. The work had truly begun.