For an instant, it felt as if the wind and snow had been paused mid‑air, frozen in place.
Only the cool touch on the tip of his nose slowly spread outward.

Seeing the two of them standing still for so long, Xie Fuyin finally couldn’t resist peeking through her fingers.

But before she could see anything, Wen Qingci suddenly brushed the snow from his nose onto Xie Bufeng’s shoulder, then immediately turned away and walked forward with the umbrella.

A faint smile curved at Xie Bufeng’s lips.

“Let’s go.”

“O‑okay!”
The little girl clung tightly to her brother’s shoulder, glancing up at him, then sneaking looks at Wen Qingci.

Why was Brother Qingci’s face a little red?

The snow on the plains grew heavier.

A white veil draped over the world.

Held in her brother’s arms, Xie Fuyin only knew that he had switched to holding her with one arm.

She did not know that Xie Bufeng’s other hand was intertwined with Wen Qingci’s beneath the umbrella.

Keeping the cold wind and snow on the outside.

Leaving only each other’s warmth at their fingertips.

*

She‑ri Festival, Mount Yi.

After snowing the entire night, the sky finally cleared at dawn.

The massive Mount Yi stood like a sculpture of white jade, quietly rising at the edge of the sky.

The civil and military officials of the Wei Dynasty, along with palace attendants and noblewomen, all stood in ceremonial dress at the foot of the mountain.

Unlike the ceremony years ago, most of the aristocratic clans had already been “dealt with” by the deposed emperor.

After Xie Bufeng took the throne, he continued to reform the government, reducing redundant positions.

Now, only a few hundred people stood at the foot of Mount Yi.

But each one looked spirited and renewed, a stark contrast to the past.

The ceremonial officer struck the great bronze chimes.

The sound echoed again and again through the clouds and snow of Mount Yi, ethereal like celestial music.

The officials slowly knelt toward the mountain.

Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng ascended the long stone steps toward the high platform.

As they passed Xie Fuyin, the little girl secretly lifted her head and waved at them.

The snow on the stone steps had been cleared; there was no danger of slipping.

Even so, Xie Bufeng held Wen Qingci’s hand firmly in his own hands and did not release it until they reached the top.

Above them, the sky was a clear, jewel‑bright blue.

Sunlight streamed from the far side of Mount Yi, illuminating everything in brilliant color.

Wen Qingci couldn’t help looking toward the other side of the long staircase.

The last time he came to Mount Yi, he had been here as an imperial physician and had remained at the foot of the mountain.

Only now did he realize—

From the long steps, one could see the entire city of Yongdu.

Sunlight spilled over the city like sheets of gold leaf.

Farther away, the Yin River Canal shimmered faintly, like a golden ribbon wrapped around the city.

Wen Qingci’s steps slowed.

Noticing this, Xie Bufeng turned and asked softly,
“What are you thinking about, Qingci?”

Xie Bufeng had grown taller than Wen Qingci without either of them noticing.
Now Wen Qingci had to tilt his head slightly to meet his eyes.

The chimes still echoed faintly.
The ceremonial officer below was chanting something.

But in Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng’s ears, only a distant murmur remained.

Even the people below had become tiny black dots, their faces indistinguishable.

In their world, only the two of them truly existed.

Wen Qingci smiled and answered softly,
“I was just thinking… Your Majesty has grown up.”

His voice was as gentle as the sunlight breaking through the snow, tinged with quiet emotion.

Years ago, during another She‑ri Festival, it had also snowed heavily.

A young Xie Bufeng had knelt in the snow, holding a small lamb — the only thing he possessed.

Now, he possessed the world.

That day had been the first time Wen Qingci realized that Xie Bufeng was not just the all‑powerful villain of Fuming Hall, nor a paper character, but a real boy… flesh and blood.

Xie Bufeng narrowed his eyes slightly, his fingers brushing through Wen Qingci’s hair.

The cold wind of Mount Yi carried that familiar bitter fragrance to his nose.

Like Wen Qingci, he too remembered that She‑ri Festival.

“Qingci, do you still remember that year’s She‑ri Festival?” he asked softly.

Today, Wen Qingci was dressed in a rare ceremonial finery.

Layers of pale moon‑white brocade shimmered with subtle patterns in the sunlight.
The jade crown atop his head was adorned with pearls and gemstones.

A small string of sky‑blue jade beads swayed beside his eyelashes as Xie Bufeng moved, making a crisp sound.

They sparkled faintly in the light.

“Of course,” Wen Qingci replied.

Xie Bufeng’s hand gently cupped Wen Qingci’s cheek, brushing past the corner of his eye.

His voice was slightly hoarse, his gaze momentarily unfocused.
“That night… I had a dream.”

“What did Your Majesty dream of?”

“I dreamed I had returned to Suzhuo, and by the stream outside the tomb‑keeper’s settlement… I found a little lamb.”

Even after so many years, the dream remained vivid in his mind.

Xie Bufeng’s voice unconsciously softened.

Wen Qingci also remembered the small creature Xie Bufeng had once held so tightly in his arms.

“And then?” he asked quietly.

“And then…”
Xie Bufeng’s hand slid slowly from Wen Qingci’s cheek.

“I woke up. And I realized the one I found wasn’t a lamb at all. It was you.”

He had burned with fever that night.
When he woke, he discovered that in his delirium he had been gripping Wen Qingci’s wrist the entire time.

And Wen Qingci had simply stayed beside him, sitting quietly with him through the whole night.

For the boy he had been, it was unimaginable.

“I thought I would never lose the little lamb again.”

But in the end, Wen Qingci had still closed his eyes in his arms.

Even thinking of it now made Xie Bufeng’s heart ache sharply.

That had been his nightmare.

…He saw himself as the lamb?

Wen Qingci’s fingers trembled slightly.

At that moment, the ceremonial officer finished reciting the prepared words.

The chimes slowly faded.

Only a lingering echo drifted through the mountain valley, reluctant to disperse.

Xie Bufeng finally lowered his hand from Wen Qingci’s cheek.

“Your Majesty,”
Just as Xie Bufeng was about to turn and look down from Mount Yi, Wen Qingci gently tugged his sleeve and whispered beside his ear,
“You didn’t pick up a little lamb.”

Xie Bufeng frowned slightly and looked at him.

Wen Qingci first lowered his eyes with a small smile, then suddenly lifted his gaze, meeting Xie Bufeng’s eyes with complete seriousness.
“It was the little lamb who picked you up and brought you home.”

After speaking, he took hold of Xie Bufeng’s hand hanging at his side.

Wen Qingci’s eyes curved softly, sunlight shimmering in them like ripples spreading across a deep pool after a stone is dropped at dawn.

His tone was gentle as always, but the words he spoke sent Xie Bufeng’s heart into chaos.

…Home?

That had once been the most foreign word in Xie Bufeng’s life.

But when Wen Qingci said it, Xie Bufeng felt as if, in that instant, he possessed the entire world.

Yes…on that She‑ri night, it wasn’t he who found Wen Qingci.

It was Wen Qingci who found him, a boy with nowhere to go, and brought him home.

That tiny courtyard of the Imperial Medical Bureau, so small and insignificant within the vast Taishu Palace, had been Xie Bufeng’s entire world.

The chimes at the foot of Mount Yi rang again.

Seeing Xie Bufeng still frozen in place, Wen Qingci gently shook his hand.
“Your Majesty, don’t daze off. The auspicious hour has arrived.”

He finally released Xie Bufeng’s hand and slowly picked up the incense from the golden tray.

“Alright.”

Xie Bufeng came back to himself and, like Wen Qingci, took three sticks of incense and held them solemnly in his hands.

He closed his eyes and pressed the incense to his forehead.

The She‑ri Festival was the day the emperor offered sacrifices to Heaven, Earth, and the gods of soil and grain.

With each toll of the great bell at the foot of the mountain, Xie Bufeng recited a line of the ritual prayer, just as emperors had done for generations.

Peace to the land, abundance to the harvest.

Each strike of the bell corresponded to a line of prayer.

Wen Qingci also pressed his incense to his forehead, silently reciting the prayer along with Xie Bufeng and the officials below.

The sound of the ancient bell echoed through the mountains.

With each resonance, Wen Qingci felt his heart tremble faintly.

He remembered that the prayer had five lines.

But after the fifth line was spoken, the great bell rang again.

…What was happening?

The She‑ri ceremony had been prepared for months — how could such a mistake occur now?

The officials below hesitated for a moment, then followed the bell and shouted,
“Long live His Majesty, long live, long live!”

Wen Qingci instinctively looked toward Xie Bufeng.

The emperor in black still had not lowered his incense.

He held it to his forehead and, along with the people below, continued speaking softly in time with the bell that reached Heaven and Earth:

“Sixth wish: may Wen Qingci be safe and healthy, free of illness and disaster.”

“…And may he grow old with me, our hearts bound as one, never parted in life or death.”

His voice was solemn beyond measure.

Every word was spoken clearly, as if afraid Heaven might mishear and overlook his prayer.

The incense burned down to his fingertips as he spoke, but he held it tightly, unaware of the heat, until the last echo of the bell faded into the sky.

Only then did Xie Bufeng open his eyes and place the incense into the burner with utmost reverence.

Leaving his wish forever on Mount Yi.

A spring breeze swept across the mountain, carrying fine snowflakes from somewhere unknown.

For a moment, Wen Qingci thought he smelled the soaring fragrance of magnolia blossoms…

It drifted across all of Yongdu and landed on the tip of his nose—

The long streets of Yongdu had been swept clean, petals scattered across the official roads.

The people had abandoned their work and gathered along the streets to welcome the procession returning to the palace.

Seeing this, Xie Bufeng deliberately slowed the pace of the procession.

By dusk, they finally returned to Taishu Palace.

Wen Qingci had been recuperating for half a year, but his health was still not strong.

He no longer coughed blood as before, but he tired more easily than most.

The carriage was lit with calming incense.

On the way back, Wen Qingci fell into a deep sleep.

Half‑awake, he felt Xie Bufeng carrying him back to their residence.

When he next opened his eyes, the sky was completely dark.

“…Your Majesty?”
Finding no one beside him, Wen Qingci paused, then slowly lifted the bed curtains.

At some point, his ceremonial robes had been changed into a simple cotton garment.

The warm brazier in the Imperial Medical Bureau’s bedroom glowed softly.

Neither he nor Xie Bufeng liked attendants nearby, so this room, unlike the others in Taishu Palace, was not tended by eunuchs or maids.

On the desk by the window lay the medical text Wen Qingci had been reading two days ago.

In the small red‑clay stove beside it, a pot of rice wine infused with osmanthus honey was warming.

The wine had almost no alcohol, but its fragrance filled the room.

After winter began, Xie Bufeng had ordered thick carpets laid over the wooden floor.

So when Wen Qingci stepped down barefoot, he didn’t feel cold.

But the moment he stood, he heard a soft creak.

Xie Bufeng pushed open the door and entered.

He had changed out of his heavy ceremonial robes into a simple black garment.

No matter how plain his clothing, the aura of authority he carried could not be hidden.

His gaze fell to the floor.

Wen Qingci’s feet were pale, the bluish veins stark against his skin.

Wen Qingci instinctively sat back on the bed, trying to hide his bare foot.

Though the brazier was burning, it was still winter, and Wen Qingci’s body, weakened by lingering toxins, was more sensitive to cold than most.

As he moved, Xie Bufeng saw that his toes were reddened from the chill.

“Qingci, why are you walking around barefoot again?”

Xie Bufeng frowned and stepped over the carpet toward him.

“I wanted to find you… ah!”

Before Wen Qingci could finish, the young emperor in black knelt down on one knee before him.

“Your Majesty, what are you doing?”
Wen Qingci was startled.

“Don’t move.”
Xie Bufeng caught the foot Wen Qingci was trying to hide and brought it back, then took a pair of shoes and socks from the side.
“You know your health. If you catch cold, you’ll suffer.”

His hands were dry and warm.

When they touched Wen Qingci’s cold skin, Xie Bufeng didn’t rush to put on the socks.

Instead, he first warmed Wen Qingci’s foot with his hands.

Wen Qingci: !!!

Xie Bufeng’s touch was gentle, but Wen Qingci couldn’t pull away at all.

His face turned as red as a boiled shrimp.

“All done.”
Xie Bufeng finally released him.

“…Mm.”

Wen Qingci silently vowed never to walk barefoot in the room again.

This was far too embarrassing…

The lamps were lit, but their flickering glow could not compare to daylight.

The dimness made the atmosphere subtly intimate.

Xie Bufeng was still kneeling on one knee, looking up at him with deep, unwavering eyes.

Wen Qingci’s heartbeat quickened.

He gripped the bedding and turned toward the window, suddenly remembering something.
“Your Majesty… where did you go just now?”

Xie Bufeng smiled softly.
“Qingci has been tired all day. You haven’t eaten properly since noon, so I went to the side room to make a little supper.”

He rose slowly.

Wen Qingci finally exhaled in relief.

“What did Your Majesty make?”

Xie Bufeng paused, then met his eyes and answered quietly:

“Magnolia blossom porridge.”

*

Wen Qingci put on a thick outer robe and stepped out of the bedroom.

He wasn’t sure whether it was because the cloak had been warmed by the brazier, or for some other reason —
but even though snow had begun falling again outside, he didn’t feel cold at all.

Under the great magnolia tree in the courtyard sat a low table.

On it was a small clay stove warming a pot of magnolia blossom porridge.

Beside it lay a jade‑green sachet.

—In autumn, Wen Qingci had discovered that both this courtyard and the front yard of the Imperial Medical Bureau were filled with such sachets.

At first, he didn’t know what they contained.
Later, Song Junran told him: every sachet held the antidote to Tianci poison — the antidote Xie Bufeng had begged from him.

Afraid Wen Qingci might suddenly relapse or forget to carry medicine, Xie Bufeng had placed antidotes everywhere around him.

“Qingci, try it. How does it taste?”
Xie Bufeng sat across from him, carefully ladling a bowl.

His movements were cautious and gentle, completely unlike the man who wielded a heavy sword on the battlefield, killing gods and Buddhas alike.

When Wen Qingci accepted the bowl, he found the temperature perfect, neither too hot nor too cool.

“Your Majesty, where did you learn to make magnolia blossom porridge?”
After tasting a spoonful, Wen Qingci realized that the porridge Xie Bufeng had cooked tasted exactly the same as his own.

The man sitting across from him shook his head lightly.
“I figured it out myself.”

“…Figured it out?”

Xie Bufeng slowly lowered his gaze, staring at the small stove on the table.
“When you left, you left behind a bowl of porridge. I was afraid it would dry out… afraid it would spoil. I couldn’t bear to eat it, and I couldn’t bear to throw it away.”

He was the emperor, ruler of all under heaven —
yet in Wen Qingci’s eyes at this moment, he looked like a small, loyal dog terrified of being abandoned.

“So… Your Highness learned to make it yourself, didn’t you?”
Wen Qingci spoke before realizing that his voice had taken on a thick, unmistakable nasal tremor.

Because of Xie Bufeng’s words, Wen Qingci suddenly remembered:
when he returned to the courtyard earlier, the side room had been spotless.

The clay stove and purple‑sand pot were placed neatly, not a speck of dust on them.

It seemed Xie Bufeng hadn’t merely cleaned them regularly.

He had been using the things Wen Qingci left behind.

“Yes.”
Xie Bufeng stood, walked around the low table, and sat behind Wen Qingci, pulling him tightly into his arms.
“Only this way… could I keep Qingci’s taste with me.”

Xie Bufeng wasn’t good at cooking.

He could only adjust the ingredients little by little, comparing each attempt to the taste in his memory, repeating the process again and again.

As he finished speaking, he couldn’t resist lowering his head and inhaling deeply at Wen Qingci’s hair.

Then he whispered,
“But no matter how much I learn… it will never be as good as yours.”

A sharp ache rose in Wen Qingci’s chest.

Then sadness, joy, and even relief surged through him all at once.

In that moment, Wen Qingci suddenly thought of Fuming Hall.

With memories of his past life, he had never feared death.

When he entered the palace, he had already accepted the possibility of dying.

But now — now he felt overwhelmingly grateful.

Grateful to still be alive.

“Qingci… are you crying?”

A sudden coolness touched the back of Xie Bufeng’s hand.

He froze, then realized —
it was Wen Qingci’s tears.

“Yes.”
Wen Qingci slowly raised his hand and held Xie Bufeng’s wrist.
“I suddenly feel… that being alive is truly wonderful.”

Tonight, not only were officials given leave, but Xie Bufeng had also granted rest to the imperial physicians, palace maids, and eunuchs.

Only the necessary guards remained in Taishu Palace.

The surroundings were utterly quiet.

Wen Qingci closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the wind.

As he did, the little rabbit that roamed freely in the courtyard hopped over and nudged against his side.

Wen Qingci’s tears were scattered by the wind.

Xie Bufeng, flustered, tried to wipe them away.

He had seen Wen Qingci poisoned, seen him injured.

But he had never seen him… this fragile.

The wind made the tears even colder.

When wiping them did nothing, Xie Bufeng suddenly pulled Wen Qingci into his arms.

Then he kissed him….hard….on the lips.

Their breaths tangled instantly.

Wen Qingci’s mind went blank from lack of air, his thoughts scattered completely.

He vaguely heard Xie Bufeng say:

“There is no poison in this world without a cure.”

“Tianci must have an antidote. And your hand… will return to how it once was.”

“When that day comes, I will travel with you — to Songxiu, to Suzhuo, to Changyuan.
We’ll wander the mountains and rivers, heal the sick, save the dying.”

He paused, then gently kissed away Wen Qingci’s tears.

The lips of the man in his arms were now as red as the cinnabar mark on his forehead.

Xie Bufeng’s voice was unwavering.

Wen Qingci hesitated, then lifted his gaze, looking deeply into Xie Bufeng’s reddened eyes.

“Alright.”
He smiled softly and reached up to touch the corner of Xie Bufeng’s eye.
“And there’s the Shanyu River. You said you would go back with me… to meet my parents.”

Before he finished speaking, he was swallowed by another kiss.

In a daze, he saw fireworks blooming at the distant horizon.

Warm golden sparks shot upward, piercing the night sky.

A few seconds later, they burst open, illuminating the heavens.

A cool night wind swept through the courtyard.

The great magnolia tree rustled softly.

It lifted their long hair, tangling it together.

A magnolia blossom heavy with snow fell onto the table.

Then the wind rose again.

The fallen magnolias scattered and danced like ghostly flames.

Their fragrance seeped into the bones.

Just like the day they first met.

If the officials hadn’t repeatedly submitted memorials urging him, he probably would have continued using the previous era name, Tianchu.

But this year, as soon as Wen Qingci returned to Yongdu, Xie Bufeng immediately began pushing to change the era name.

Although it wasn’t yet the end of the year, making such a change now was somewhat improper according to ritual norms.

But the entire court seemed to have grown accustomed to Xie Bufeng’s way of doing things.

In the end, the Wei Dynasty officially changed the era name to Qing’an early, on the day of the Autumn Equinox.

Everyone knew that this era’s name was changed by His Majesty for Lord Wen, who had just returned to Yongdu.

In principle, changing an era name is a matter of great significance, and even an emperor cannot do it on a whim.

But this time, not only did the civil and military officials not object, even the common people raised no objections at all.

—The events at Lianhe had already spread throughout the entire Wei Dynasty.

Over the past half‑year, Wen Qingci not only taught Solving Crises in the Apricot Forest to the imperial physicians, he also spread the entire text among the common people.

And the first person to undergo surgery, General Anping, not only recovered from his illness, but after resting in Yongdu for several months, he rode back to the northern frontier by year’s end to resume his post.

When people heard this, they were amazed.

The rumors circulating in the Yongdu marketplace that day were not an isolated case.

At this point, the entire population of the Wei Dynasty whispered privately that Wen Qingci was a star‑immortal descended from the heavens to save the suffering.

With such a divine reputation, Wen Qingci’s medical theories spread rapidly throughout the realm.

Naturally, none of this happened without Xie Bufeng’s quiet support behind the scenes.

*

In the blink of an eye, another winter‑spring transition arrived.

The She‑ri Festival was finally approaching.

The ritual of offering sacrifices to Heaven and Earth would be held at the foot of Mount Yi.

Everyone from the Taishu Palace arrived a day early.

Inside the dark‑gold carriage, a thick layer of fur blankets had been laid out.

The walls were padded with cotton, shutting out the cold air and all outside noise.

No incense was burning inside, yet a faint bitter fragrance lingered in the air.

“…Your Majesty, have we arrived?”

Wen Qingci opened his eyes groggily and realized the carriage had already stopped. Everything outside was silent except for the soft sound of falling snow.

At some point, he had fallen asleep leaning lightly against Xie Bufeng’s shoulder.

Xie Bufeng set aside the memorial he had been reading and pulled the fox‑fur cloak back up over Wen Qingci’s shoulder.

“We’ve arrived. Rest a little longer,” Xie Bufeng said, lifting the ginger soup warmed on the brazier and placing it into Wen Qingci’s hands. “It’s snowing outside—be careful not to catch a chill.”

Wen Qingci gently lifted the curtain and saw Mount Yi draped in deep blue and snow, standing like a deity at the edge of the sky.

Clouds drifted low in the air like ink wash.

Amid the wind and snow, a low mound could be faintly seen.

There were no trees on the mound; the bare brown earth looked desolate.

Wen Qingci had been to Mount Yi during the Fengshan ceremony, but there had been too many people then, and as an imperial physician he couldn’t move freely. He hadn’t noticed this place at all.

“What is that?” Wen Qingci couldn’t help asking.

Xie Bufeng’s fingers slid slowly through his hair. “That is the Chen Mausoleum.”

“…So that’s the Chen Mausoleum.” Wen Qingci murmured softly.

From the moment the deposed emperor ascended the throne, he began massive construction to build his own tomb.

Unexpectedly, more than twenty years passed and the tomb was still unfinished when he died beneath the Yin River Canal.

Xie Bufeng’s gaze followed Wen Qingci’s out the window.

The young emperor in his black cloak gently rubbed Wen Qingci’s neck and frowned slightly.
“It’s an eyesore here. Why not have it filled in?”

He spoke, then withdrew his gaze, not bothering to look at it again.

But Wen Qingci slowly sat upright and shook his head.
“The Chen Mausoleum was not easy to build. It would be a pity to bury it. Let it remain.”

Over the past half‑year, Wen Qingci’s most important task had not been teaching Solving Crises in the Apricot Forest to the imperial physicians, nor preparing for the festival, but recovering his health.

With Xie Bufeng and Song Junran watching him closely, he had barely left the city gates of Yongdu.

Like any modern person, Wen Qingci was curious about the structure of ancient imperial tombs.

After a moment’s pause, he couldn’t help saying, “I’d like to take a look. Would Your Majesty accompany me?”

As he spoke, his dark eyes suddenly brightened.

Look at the Chen Mausoleum?

Xie Bufeng frowned. Having grown up in a tomb‑keeper’s settlement, he had no interest in visiting the deposed emperor’s tomb.

But if Wen Qingci wanted to go, how could he refuse?

“Of course.”

…

A cup of tea later, Xie Bufeng helped Wen Qingci down from the carriage.

The snow had not stopped, and the cold was biting.

In addition to his cloak, Wen Qingci wore a fox‑fur coat.

The pale fur at the collar covered most of his chin, leaving only his dark eyes and the red cinnabar mark visible.

Wen Qingci had come here out of curiosity, but upon approaching the Chen Mausoleum, he discovered that the Empress Dowager had arrived before him.

She was standing there holding the hand of Xie Fuyin.

Besides Mingliu, there were two others at her side.

One was Eunuch Zhao, who had already left the palace.
The other was a woman Wen Qingci found unfamiliar at first glance.

When they saw Xie Bufeng and Wen Qingci approach, they immediately bowed.

Only when Wen Qingci noticed the woman’s short hair did he recognize her—she was the former Consort Wen, mother of the deposed emperor’s youngest fourth prince.

Her family, the Zhong’an Marquisate, had been implicated in the noble rebellion and collapsed overnight.

She herself had been sent to the imperial temple by Consort Lan and forced to become a nun.

If not for seeing her today, Wen Qingci would have nearly forgotten she existed.

Her hair had grown to her shoulders now; she must have left the temple some time ago.

When a new emperor ascends the throne, a general amnesty is customary.

Wen Qingci guessed she had regained her freedom then.

…However, the rebellion had not affected the rest of the harem.

The deposed emperor’s other consorts from noble families had all retained their ranks.

Only Consort Wen had been sent to the temple under the charge of “offending the imperial carriage.”

But now… not only did she bear no resentment toward the Empress Dowager, she was even holding an umbrella for her, appearing very close.

Wen Qingci felt puzzled, but did not show it.

The Empress Dowager seemed to sense his confusion.

She did not explain directly. Instead, her gaze fell on the unlowered dragon‑severing stone at the entrance of the Chen Mausoleum.

She rubbed Xie Fuyin’s head as the child waved at Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng, then turned back and asked:

“Lord Wen, do you remember that shortly after you entered the palace, a palace maid died in the harem?”

Of course Wen Qingci remembered.

The maid’s body had been thrown into a well, frightening many people.

The deposed emperor had flown into a rage and ordered an investigation.

But nothing was ever found, and it became an unsolved case.

“I remember,” Wen Qingci said with a nod.

As he spoke, his gaze fell on Eunuch Zhao standing nearby.

Wen Qingci’s mood suddenly tightened.

He had long wondered how Eunuch Zhao and Consort Lan had ever come into contact.
One was a consort of the inner palace, the other a close attendant at the emperor’s side.
Both were cautious by nature… no matter how one looked at it, they didn’t seem like people who would casually share something as grave as regicide with each other.

…Judging from the atmosphere today, he would likely learn the truth.

Sure enough, the Empress Dowager let out a long sigh. After a few seconds, she said, “To be honest, this matter is not only related to me, it is tied to every consort in the harem.”

“Mother, what do you mean by that?”
This time, even Xie Bufeng, who had been silent, spoke.

The Empress Dowager slowly closed her eyes, as if sinking into memory.
“Physician Wen, do you remember where that palace maid was serving?”

“The Hundred‑Craft Pavilion.”
Though the incident had happened years ago, it remained deeply etched in Wen Qingci’s mind.

“Correct. The Hundred‑Craft Pavilion — where the design plans for the Chen Mausoleum were stored.”

With that, the Empress Dowager finally opened her eyes.

She looked toward the dragon‑severing stone and said in a low voice,“The Chen Mausoleum was not only built for the deposed emperor himself — it was built for all of us. I only learned this by accident when I saw the plans. From beginning to end, the deposed emperor intended for every consort to be buried alive with him.”

As she spoke, she clenched her silk handkerchief tightly, her face turning pale.

The Empress Dowager came from a noble family. Her father had been Minister of Works, and her elder brother a master architect.
Having grown up around such things, she naturally understood architectural drawings.

Thus, when she accidentally saw the Chen Mausoleum plans in the Hundred‑Craft Pavilion, she immediately realized: the mausoleum was far too large….large enough that the emperor had reserved coffin chambers for every consort.

Most chilling of all, the mausoleum had three layers of dragon‑severing stones.
These stones, once lowered, could never be raised again, not only preventing outsiders from entering, but preventing those inside from ever escaping.

Xie Zhaolin had intended for all his consorts to die with him.

After speaking, she turned and nodded to Eunuch Zhao, then said hoarsely,
“When I discovered this, I was terrified. Fortunately, Eunuch Zhao appeared and helped conceal it for me…”

Her voice grew dry.

Even the lively little Xie Fuyin sensed something was wrong and fell quiet.

Eunuch Zhao had been responsible for the emperor’s daily care, and he had also gone to the Hundred‑Craft Pavilion that day.

When Consort Lan realized the true purpose of the mausoleum, her face had gone deathly pale, sweat beading on her forehead.
Her hands trembled, and she could barely speak.

Seeing Eunuch Zhao, she thought she was doomed — but unexpectedly, he knelt and offered to cooperate with her.

The matter of the Yin River Canal had been well hidden by the emperor.
It was only that day that she learned the truth from Eunuch Zhao.

“So that’s how it was…” Wen Qingci murmured.

No wonder the deposed emperor, even in madness, remained obsessed with the Hundred‑Craft Pavilion, constantly going there to look at the plans.

Everything… had begun there.

Eunuch Zhao, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke softly:
“No one knew when the deposed emperor might die. To be fully prepared, I often copied the mausoleum plans behind his back.”

The Chen Mausoleum had been under construction for more than twenty years.
There were hundreds upon hundreds of drawings.
Copying them was not something that could be done in a day.

“Unexpectedly… that day, a palace maid saw me. She shouted that she would report it to the emperor.”

If the emperor learned that Eunuch Zhao had been copying the plans, he would investigate thoroughly — and the entire harem would be thrown into chaos.

His voice was hoarse from the wind and snow outside the mausoleum,
but every word reached Wen Qingci clearly.

So the palace maid that day… had been killed by Eunuch Zhao.

Every event since Wen Qingci entered the palace had been tied to this.

Only then did Wen Qingci notice that Mingliu, standing beside the Empress Dowager, was holding a thick stack of papers.

—They must be the mausoleum plans.

After Eunuch Zhao finished speaking, the Empress Dowager stepped forward, took the plans, and burned them one by one before the mausoleum.

Orange flames rose into the snowy sky.

The densely drawn lines on the paper vanished in an instant, turning to ash and scattering in the wind.

Wen Qingci couldn’t help coughing lightly.

“Beloved, the wind is strong here. Let’s move elsewhere.”
Xie Bufeng frowned and held the umbrella in front of him.

But Wen Qingci slowly shook his head.
“Wait a moment, Your Majesty. Stay with me here a little longer.”

As the plans burned to ash, the final knot in Wen Qingci’s heart finally unraveled.

Nearly two years had passed since the deposed emperor was executed by Xie Bufeng.

But only now, as the ashes drifted away, did the past truly begin to fade.

It drifted away from his heart—

“What use is such a grand tomb?”
Consort Wen, now Dowager Consort Du….finally spoke.
“In the end, he still died beneath the river.”

She even let out a cold laugh.

“Dowager Consort Du, mind your words,” the Empress Dowager reminded with a frown.

Dowager Consort Du?

Wen Qingci (文清辞) thought for a moment and realized that Consort Wen’s real name was Du Qingyun (杜清韵).

As the mother of the fourth prince, she had automatically risen to the rank of Dowager Consort after the deposed emperor’s death.

And… for reasons unknown, Xie Bufeng had made her name a national taboo.

Even his own name had become a taboo as well.

Since “Wen” (雯) and “Wen (文)” were homophones, she could no longer use the character 雯 after her promotion.

Already full of resentment toward the deposed emperor, Du Qingyun (杜清韵) simply used the title “Dowager Consort Du (杜太妃)” instead.

She came from a noble family and was an only daughter, she spoke without restraint.

“Alright, alright, I’ll listen to Sister Su!” Dowager Consort Du laughed.

“Sister Su?”
This time, it was Xie Fuyin who was curious.

In all her life, she had never heard anyone call her mother that.

“Of course,” Dowager Consort Du bent down and told the little princess,
“Our families were close for generations. I always called her Sister Su. Besides, Sister Su once saved my life.”

“Wow—” Xie Fuyin’s eyes widened.
“How did Mother save the Dowager Consort?”

Children her age were endlessly curious; she wanted to know everything.

Not only Xie Fuyin, Wen Qingci was curious too.

He watched as Dowager Consort Du sighed softly.
“No one knew when the burial order would come. Leaving the palace and shedding the identity of a consort was the safest path…”

Her family had been executed, and she had once foolishly begged the emperor for mercy on behalf of the marquis’s heir.

Because of that, the then‑Consort Lan — now the Empress Dowager — used the opportunity to send her to the temple as a nun.

Once her hair was shaved, all worldly ties were severed.

She was no longer the emperor’s wife, nor a consort — but a disciple under the protection of the Buddha.

The burial decree no longer applied to her.

“I see…” Xie Fuyin nodded, half understanding.

She was clever, but still only a child; such matters were difficult to grasp.

The snow beneath Mount Yi fell harder and harder.

After hearing the story, Xie Fuyin quickly lost interest and began running around, catching snowflakes in her hands.

The weather was poor today. After looking at the mausoleum, Wen Qingci and the others turned back with their umbrellas.

“A‑choo—!”
A gust of cold wind blew past, and Xie Fuyin, running ahead, suddenly sneezed loudly.

Seeing this, Wen Qingci hurried forward, bent down, and handed her a handkerchief.
Then he tightened her cloak for her.
“Your Highness, be careful not to catch a cold.”

Then he noticed her embroidered boots — half soaked through.

“Your Majesty,” Wen Qingci paused, then turned to Xie Bufeng behind him, speaking naturally,
“The princess’s shoes are wet. You should carry her.”

The Empress Dowager and Dowager Consort Du wore heavy, elaborate clothing, making it difficult to walk in the snow.
Eunuch Zhao was elderly.

Looking around, Xie Bufeng was clearly the best choice.

As he spoke, a snowflake landed lightly on Wen Qingci’s eyelashes.

His eyes were full of warmth and expectation.

Xie Bufeng’s heart trembled.

“Alright.”
He opened his arms and lifted Xie Fuyin securely into his embrace.

His movements were practiced and steady.

Wen Qingci took the umbrella and held it with his right hand, walking beside them.

Xie Fuyin’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Your Highness, why are you so happy?” Wen Qingci asked.

“Because Brother hasn’t carried Fuyin in so long!”
She stretched her hand out from under the umbrella, trying to catch snowflakes, and blinked her round amber eyes.
“Brother is so tall. Will Fuyin grow this tall when she grows up?”

“Yes,” Wen Qingci replied naturally, “as long as Your Highness eats properly.”

“Okay!” Xie Fuyin’s eyes lit up even more. “Then Fuyin wants to eat the food Lord Wen makes!”

Wen Qingci smiled, but before he could nod, the person holding Xie Fuyin frowned and said,
“Physician Wen is already too tired every day. Whatever you want to eat, I’ll make it for you.”

It was late winter now, the final days of the magnolia blossoms.

Yet Xie Bufeng never mentioned wanting to taste magnolia porridge again.

Wen Qingci had assumed that now that he was emperor, he no longer cared for the things he liked as a youth.

He never expected the real reason to be this.

“Brother can cook?”
Xie Fuyin, arms around Xie Bufeng’s neck, looked at him with wide curiosity.

“Yes,” Wen Qingci answered with a smile, “His Majesty is quite talented.”

“Then next time Brother cooks, can you call me? I want to taste it with Lord Wen too~”

“Of course,” Xie Bufeng nodded, then suddenly added, “And from now on, don’t call Qingci ‘Lord Wen.’ It sounds too distant.”

In his heart, Wen Qingci was already family.

For Xie Fuyin to call him “Lord Wen” felt strange.

“I understand…”
Xie Fuyin pouted, troubled. “Then what should I call him?”

Wen Qingci was a man — she couldn’t call him “sister‑in‑law.”
So what should she call him?

While she struggled to think, Wen Qingci, holding the umbrella beside them, suddenly smiled and said,
“Your Highness, I am in my twenties. Naturally, you should call—”

Before he could finish, the emperor turned, looked into those dark eyes, and cut him off:
“Qingci, are you deliberately trying to claim seniority and take advantage of me?”

Wen Qingci cleared his throat and lowered his head guiltily.

Xie Bufeng then turned to his sister and instructed,
“Call him Brother Qingci.”

“Hahaha—okay! Brother Qingci!”
Xie Fuyin’s laughter was crisp and bright, like a tiny silver bell echoing across the snowy plain.

Wen Qingci, holding the umbrella, couldn’t help smiling as well.
He lifted his gaze and said,
“Your Majesty, why don’t you follow the princess’s example and call me that too?”

He swore he hadn’t meant to take advantage earlier.

But once the emperor said it, Wen Qingci couldn’t resist teasing back.

His voice was still gentle and clear as always, but his tone carried a rare lightness.

“Very well,” Xie Bufeng actually agreed.
He turned his eyes toward Wen Qingci, gaze deep, and said in a low voice,
“In private, I shall call my beloved minister that. How does that sound?”

His tone was calm as usual, but the slight upward lilt carried a subtle implication that sent Wen Qingci’s heart into disarray.

A flush rose instantly to his cheeks.

Wen Qingci coughed lightly and turned away as if nothing had happened, looking out over the snowy landscape.

The magnolia‑painted umbrella was small, barely enough for two people.

Their bodies were pressed close beneath it, brushing lightly together as they walked.

A faint smile curved Xie Bufeng’s lips.

The sharp, cold aura he usually carried seemed to melt away.

He was tall and long‑legged, normally striding quickly —
but today, he slowed his pace… and slowed again…

Although she sometimes feared her brother, Xie Fuyin was still a child, unburdened by adult restraint.

Seeing Xie Bufeng smile, she couldn’t resist reaching out from under the umbrella, scooping a handful of snow from its surface, and smearing it across his cheek.

Xie Bufeng’s face instantly turned white, as if someone had smashed a cake against it.

He froze on the spot.

Snowflakes drifted down like goose feathers, blurring the world into white mist.

Xie Bufeng frowned instinctively and raised a hand to wipe the snow away.

—Would this ridiculous appearance ruin the image he had in Wen Qingci’s heart?

He turned toward Wen Qingci without thinking.

Seeing his serious expression, Xie Fuyin suddenly remembered her brother’s status.
She stiffened, withdrawing her hand nervously.

“Uh… Your Majesty, I—I…”

Was she in trouble?

Just as she was about to apologize, Wen Qingci, standing to the side, suddenly laughed.

He reached up, scooped a bit of snow from the umbrella just as she had, and smeared it onto the other side of Xie Bufeng’s face.

As Wen Qingci prepared to repeat the attack, Xie Bufeng suddenly reached out and gently caught his wrist.

His gaze deepened instantly —
as if he meant to swallow Wen Qingci whole.

“…Y‑Your Majesty?”
Sensing danger, Wen Qingci instinctively stepped back half a step, slipping outside the umbrella.

At that moment, Xie Bufeng’s fingers slowly slid across Wen Qingci’s palm.

A faint, delicate tingling shot from his palm through his entire body.

Wen Qingci shivered lightly at the sensation.

“Oh my!”  Xie Fuyin, still in Xie Bufeng’s arms, covered her eyes.

And in the next moment, Xie Bufeng gently wiped the snow he had taken from Wen Qingci’s palm onto the tip of Wen Qingci’s nose.

Then he pulled him back under the umbrella, leaned close to his ear, and whispered:

“Be careful not to catch a cold… gege.”

Along with the crisp chime of the frightened-bird bell under the eaves, it fell straight into Xie Bufeng’s heart.

…Qingci was willing to stay here?

Xie Bufeng had grown used to being abandoned.

Yet at the very moment he had stopped hoping, Wen Qingci… gently held his hand.

In that instant, the thin layer of frost over those amber eyes suddenly shattered.

His long‑numb heart began to beat again.

The calm composure he usually wore fell away.

Right now, Xie Bufeng’s eyes even held a trace of confusion.

He stood there, like a child who didn’t know what to do.

He even forgot to keep holding Wen Qingci in his arms.

Another gust of night wind blew past, and Wen Qingci couldn’t help coughing softly twice.

He patted the back of Xie Bufeng’s hand and said gently, “Your Majesty, let’s go.”

Before Xie Bufeng could react, Wen Qingci slowly turned around, picked up the lantern placed beneath the eaves, and bent down to light it, heading toward the back courtyard.

The faint flame rose beneath his hand.

Like a fallen star resting in his palm.

Seeing Xie Bufeng still standing frozen in place, Wen Qingci finally couldn’t help smiling a little. He turned and asked softly, “Your Majesty, are you not coming?”

Wen Qingci had already reached the courtyard gate.

Just as he was about to step out, footsteps sounded behind him.

Xie Bufeng hurried after him, and as they stepped out of the courtyard, he carefully took Wen Qingci’s lowered left hand into his own.

His movements were cautious, not daring to use any strength, afraid of startling the person beside him.

Wen Qingci’s fingers trembled slightly.

But this time, he did not pull away.

Instead, he slowly tightened his grip, returning Xie Bufeng’s hold.

The lantern light illuminated the long palace path of the Medical Bureau.

It lit up Xie Bufeng’s cheek, and the faint smile that had not left the corner of his lips.

* * *

After Wen Qingci’s “death,” Xie Bufeng had moved the political center of Taishu Palace into the small Medical Bureau.

The original Medical Bureau had been forced to relocate.

The new one was larger, but far less convenient than the old.

On the second day after Wen Qingci confirmed he would stay in Taishu Palace, the always stubborn and willful Xie Bufeng actually listened to him…he moved the memorials and documents out of the front courtyard, returning the space to the physicians.

After nearly two years of silence, the courtyard finally became lively again.

Eunuchs and palace maids moved in and out, carrying items back to their original places and arranging them neatly.

They no longer trembled with fear as before, barely daring to breathe.

The camphor‑pine medicine cabinets were filled to the brim.

As they stored herbs, the physicians couldn’t help glancing toward the doorway.

Their eyes held both excitement they couldn’t hide, and a faint trace of fear.

Wen Qingci had arrived.

He was standing beneath a tree, speaking softly with Yu Guanlin.

Without the veil, his elegant and ethereal face was fully revealed.

Skin long untouched by sunlight had grown paler, making his dark eyes deeper, the cinnabar mark brighter.

The faint weariness and lingering illness in his appearance only made his presence more otherworldly, as if he might ascend into immortality at any moment…

Last night, only a few dozen people were present.

But what happened spread through Taishu Palace in an instant.

Was Wen Qingci truly alive, or… resurrected?

Looking closely, many people in the Medical Bureau had dark circles under their eyes.

Clearly, they had spent the entire night thinking about this question.

And still hadn’t figured it out.

Especially the young physician who had been delivering medicine daily — he was completely out of sorts.

He never imagined that the colleague from Songxiu Prefecture was actually Wen Qingci!

While sneaking glances at him, the young physician in blue official robes nearly tripped over the threshold.

He barely regained his balance, but the item in his hands fell heavily to the ground.

Clang—

The bronze incense burner rolled down the steps.

It spun several times before finally stopping at Wen Qingci’s feet.

Dressed in moon‑white, Wen Qingci paused, then slowly bent down to pick it up.

At that moment, the young physician finally snapped out of his daze and hurried over.

“S‑sorry, Lord Wen.”

Wen Qingci gave a gentle smile and handed the incense burner back. “Why so formal?”

His warm, clear voice pulled the young physician’s thoughts back into place.

He froze for a moment, then quickly wiped his hands twice on his robe, and solemnly accepted the burner. Finally, he bowed deeply and said, “This humble official, Huo Yike, greets Lord Hanlin!”

To serve in the Medical Bureau required skill and dedication.

When he didn’t know Wen Qingci well, he had mostly felt fear.

But after spending time with him without knowing his identity, what he felt now was respect and admiration.

After a brief pause, Huo Yike took a deep breath and said in one go, head lowered, “Please don’t hold my past words against me. Everything I said before… uh, please don’t mind it. I was joking, truly, all jokes!”

His face was full of regret, and he looked like he wanted to kneel and knock his head on the ground.

He shouldn’t have brought it up…because it reminded Wen Qingci of all the rumors about him and Xie Bufeng…

For example, Huo Yike had only recently told him that after Wen Qingci “died,” Xie Bufeng had once locked himself in a room with Wen Qingci’s body for an entire night.

Huo Yike’s description had been… ambiguous.

When Wen Qingci tried to deny it, Huo Yike had insisted it was a well‑known secret in Taishu Palace.

Having grown used to hiding behind a veil, Wen Qingci’s ability to keep a straight face was not as strong as before.

A faint blush rose on his cheeks. He quickly changed the subject. “It’s fine. No need to be formal with me. If you have questions in the future, you may bring them to me as before.”

“No, no,” Huo Yike shook his head vigorously, excited. “It’s not discussion…it should be you guiding us!”

They hadn’t lowered their voices.

Hearing this, several nearby physicians hurried over.

They introduced themselves and exchanged greetings with Wen Qingci, eager to get closer.

Especially those who had gone to Lianhe — they seized the chance to speak with him.

The plague in Lianhe had been solved through corpse dissection.

As beneficiaries, they had gradually let go of their old prejudices.

The Empress Dowager’s conversation with Wen Qingci had already spread.

Knowing he would stay in the Medical Bureau, they naturally assumed he planned to take disciples.

“…Would Lord Wen be willing to take apprentices?”

“It would be a great loss if your medical knowledge had no successor!”

Yu Guanlin stroked his beard and smiled. “Indeed. Since Lord Wen has decided to stay, why not take a disciple and pass on your medical teachings?”

The others nodded immediately.

Wen Qingci smiled faintly and let his gaze sweep across the crowd.

The Medical Bureau had strict ranks…everyone present today was at least a seventh‑rank physician.

Ninety percent of them were older than Wen Qingci.

Being stared at with such reverence made him a little uncomfortable…

He looked to the side.

After a pause, he said, “I have no intention of taking disciples.”

“This…”

Not taking disciples?

The smiles on the surrounding faces suddenly froze.

Even Yu Guanlin couldn’t help giving Wen Qingci a slightly puzzled look.

In this era, medicine…like all crafts…was passed down through a master‑apprentice system.

After formally becoming a disciple, the master would teach everything personally, hand‑to‑hand.

But to Wen Qingci… this system was too closed‑off and fragile.

The Divine Medicine Valley, by contrast, used a private‑academy style of teaching.

If one wanted medical knowledge to spread widely, that was the best method.

Wen Qingci slowly smiled and said softly, “To be honest, I plan to open a school here in the Medical Bureau.”

“Open a school!” Huo Yike couldn’t help repeating his words.

A second later, he realized he shouldn’t speak to Wen Qingci in that tone.

Fortunately, Wen Qingci didn’t seem to mind.

At that moment, all the physicians around them stopped what they were doing and turned toward Wen Qingci in unison.

Their already excited hearts surged even more.

“Yes,” Wen Qingci nodded lightly. He slowly explained his plan. “Master‑apprentice transmission is too slow, too small in scale, and easily becomes stagnant. Opening a school, dividing subjects and teaching systematically, is far more effective.”

Memories of his previous life studying in medical school resurfaced clearly in his mind.

In just a few sentences, he had already sketched out the entire structure in his thoughts.

Wen Qingci’s idea did not fit tradition.

But in an instant, it ignited everyone’s passion.

After a few seconds of silence, the Medical Bureau erupted:

“Good! Good!”

“When does Lord Wen plan to begin?”

“Will the academy be set up here?”

The physicians were so enthusiastic they practically wished classes could start today.

Hearing the chatter around him, Wen Qingci suddenly realized that although he had planned everything out, he had forgotten one crucial thing — reporting it to the emperor.

The Medical Bureau was the empire’s core medical institution.

What he was proposing was, in essence, a reform.

“…This matter is not yet settled,” Wen Qingci quickly added, remembering the oversight. “I must report it to His Majesty before a decision can be made.”

“No need for such trouble.”

“No, no…this is a serious matter. His Majesty must be informed before we proceed.”

Wen Qingci said this instinctively, and only afterward realized that the voice responding to him sounded familiar…

He turned around in a daze…and saw Xie Bufeng, just returned from court, walking into the courtyard in a black dragon robe, smiling as he stood behind him.

Then, in front of all the physicians, Xie Bufeng openly removed the black embroidered robe and draped it gently over Wen Qingci’s shoulders.

“From now on, for such small matters, my beloved minister need not ask me,” Xie Bufeng said softly as he carefully straightened Wen Qingci’s collar. “Autumn is coming. Wear more layers…don’t catch a cold.”

The familiar scent of dragon‑musk wrapped around Wen Qingci.

A faint blush rose on his cheeks.

The surrounding physicians immediately looked away, gossiping internally but not daring to stare.

Only the elderly Yu Guanlin, whose legs were not very steady, overheard their wise and mighty emperor…the man who held countless lives in his hands…lowering his voice like a spoiled child to whisper:

“Since you’ve decided to open a school, then you must teach without discrimination… This past year, I’ve read through the medical texts you left behind and developed an interest in medicine. When the academy opens, I will attend as well. Would my beloved minister refuse me?”

Yu Guanlin did not hear Wen Qingci’s reply.

But after a lifetime in the Medical Bureau, he understood one thing clearly — Xie Bufeng was not interested in medicine.

He was interested in the one teaching it.

Otherwise, why had he never once come to discuss medical theory with Yu Guanlin in the past year?

Hiss… perhaps he was overthinking it.

But the way His Majesty said “my beloved minister”… sounded rather suspicious.

* * *

Although Xie Bufeng still had traces of poison left in his body, as emperor, handling state affairs was still his duty.

That afternoon, Wen Qingci reluctantly forced him to go review memorials.

After some bargaining, Xie Bufeng used the excuse “the imperial study is not yet repaired” to stay in the Medical Bureau courtyard and squeeze beside Wen Qingci to handle government work.

Meanwhile, Yu Guanlin also came to discuss the academy plans with Wen Qingci.

The wooden window was propped open with a rod.

Xie Bufeng sat at the desk reviewing memorials.

Late summer turning to early autumn…the sky high, the air cool.

Wen Qingci had a table set up in the courtyard and sat across from Yu Guanlin.

The air carried a faint scent of osmanthus.

Steam curled from the hot tea like fine threads drifting through the air.

Until a eunuch’s voice sounded from outside the courtyard, Wen Qingci finally shifted his attention.

“—His Highness Prince Heng arrives, Her Highness the Eldest Princess arrives.”

Hearing the unfamiliar titles, Wen Qingci paused before realizing the eunuch meant Xie Guanzhi and Xie Fuyin.

He stood and looked toward the courtyard entrance.

Before seeing them, he heard them.

A moment later, the sound of light footsteps pattered along the palace path.

Before Wen Qingci and Yu Guanlin could salute, Xie Fuyin appeared at the gate carrying a small basket.

Wen Qingci saw that the basket held not rabbit feed, but several peaches.

“Wen Xiansheng! I picked these — try them!”

She hopped over the threshold, lifted a peach from the basket, and held it out to him.

Then, proudly, she said, “I picked it myself! Try it, Wen Xiansheng — it’s really delicious!”

Xie Fuyin was still a child.

Wearing palace robes, she nearly tripped over a stone again.

“Careful!”

Fortunately, Wen Qingci reacted quickly. He stepped forward, gently caught her, and took the peach from her hands.

There were still droplets of water on it…freshly washed.

Children’s priorities were always different from adults’.

Wen Qingci’s return had spread across Yongdu in a single day.

Everyone wondered whether he had survived through Divine Medicine Valley’s secret arts, or whether the emperor had truly prayed for a miracle from the gods.

But Xie Fuyin only knew one thing…the Wen Xiansheng who played with her had come back.

She wasn’t frightened by nearly falling. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Wen Qingci’s neck and laughed.

“Great! Great!” Her face was full of joy. She blinked her amber eyes and said, “Wen Xiansheng, try it!”

Then she hugged him tightly again, repeating happily, “Wen Xiansheng really came back!”

Seeing her like this, Wen Qingci couldn’t help smiling.

He gently hugged her back before setting her down.

“All right. Thank you, Your Highness.” Wen Qingci obediently took a bite.

Sweet juice filled his mouth instantly.

At that moment, Xie Guanzhi entered the courtyard behind her.

The investiture ceremony was approaching, and there was much to prepare.

Just like when Xie Bufeng ascended the throne, the ceremonial robes were being arranged by the Empress Dowager.

After court, Xie Guanzhi had gone to Huixin Palace to discuss the matter with her.

When they finished, the Empress Dowager asked if he had plans.

He casually said, “I’m going to see Lord Wen,” and Xie Fuyin had followed him like a little shadow.

Unlike the excited Xie Fuyin, Xie Guanzhi’s eyes reddened the moment he stepped into the courtyard.

He sniffed and walked forward.

The confinement at the imperial temple had indeed made him more mature.

As a youth, he would have thrown a tantrum…demanding to know why Wen Qingci, if alive, had hidden from everyone under a veil.

But now, though he still didn’t know how Wen Qingci had “returned from the dead,” he vaguely understood why Wen Qingci had worn the veil.

— Wen Qingci’s identity as a “medicine person” had spread through Yongdu.

Staying here openly was dangerous.

So when he approached, the first thing Xie Guanzhi said was:

“This past year, His Majesty has dealt with many people. Now everyone in Yongdu knows your identity and His Majesty’s methods. No one will dare covet your blood again.”

Before his death‑feint, Wen Qingci hadn’t known Xie Bufeng could read the evil thoughts in people’s hearts, so he had indeed been afraid.

It was one of the reasons he had to leave Taishu Palace.

But now that he remembered everything, he no longer feared it.

After saying this, Xie Guanzhi sniffed again and said, “So… so you can stay here without worry…”

Wen Qingci paused, then slowly smiled. “All right.”

Hearing that, the always‑trying‑to‑act‑mature Xie Guanzhi stepped forward and lightly patted Wen Qingci’s shoulder, then opened his arms, wanting to hug him like Xie Fuyin had.

—In Wei Dynasty etiquette, it was normal for men to embrace after a long separation.

But before Xie Guanzhi’s hands could touch Wen Qingci, another hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

Then pushed him aside.

“…Your Majesty?!”

Xie Guanzhi froze, finally realizing Xie Bufeng was also here.

Xie Bufeng narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice, “As Prince Heng, such casual behavior is improper.”

“Huh? But…”

Xie Guanzhi wanted to say, “But isn’t Princess Fuyin even more improper?”

Before he could speak, Xie Bufeng shot him a glare sharp enough to cut.

And only then did Xie Guanzhi realize, Xie Bufeng, of all people, was lecturing someone about propriety?

What kind of logic was that?

Little Xie Fuyin, unaware of the strange tension, brightened when she saw her brother appear.

“Brother, try one too! I picked these peaches myself! They’re super sweet!”

At the same time, he grabbed a peach from the basket and held it high.

“Okay,” Xie Bufeng nodded in reply.

However, he did not take the peach from Xie Fuyin’s hand as she had expected.

Instead, she grasped Wen Qingci’s wrist, brought his hand to her lips, and gently bit it.

Xie Bufeng’s movements were extremely natural, even Xie Fuyin noticed something amiss: “Huh?”

Wen Qingci: “!!!”

At this moment, Yu Guanlin, who had been trying to keep a low profile, finally cleared his throat and asked Xie Fuyin with a smile, “Your Highness, would you be willing to give this old minister one?”

“Alright!” Xie Fuyin immediately realized.

She took a peach from the basket and handed it to Yu Guanlin.

Xie Guanzhi stood still the whole time, his gaze shifting between Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng in shock.

At the same time, he silently recalled those rumors he had heard before but had never believed…

*

The Imperial Study was simply a common name for the place where the emperor worked.

In fact, it wasn’t just one room, but an entire palace.

Besides handling government affairs, it was also the emperor’s daily residence.

As night fell, Xie Bufeng once again stayed, citing the same reason that “the renovations are not yet finished.”

Wen Qingci, who was already used to being roommates with Xie Bufeng, didn’t think much of it.

Until night…

The bedroom door was gently pushed open.

With a soft creak, Wen Qingci, who was already a light sleeper, couldn’t help but frown.

Xie Bufeng, still damp from his shower, entered the house.

He did not sleep on the tatami mat outside as he usually did.

Instead, they paused for a few seconds, walked around the screen, and went behind it.

Then he slowly sat down beside Wen Qingci’s bed.

Hearing footsteps, Wen Qingci groggily opened his eyes.

“……Your Majesty?”

Seeing who was beside his by the faint starlight, Wen Qingci tried to get up while asking, “Is there something you need?”

Xie Bufeng stood with his back to the light, so his expression was not visible.

Wen Qingci, who was fast asleep just now, sounded muffled.

His gaze was somewhat lost and weary, and he appeared completely unguarded.

His long hair slid down from his neck.

It went over his shoulders and hung down to his chest.

Xie Bufeng did not answer Wen Qingci’s question, but suddenly leaned down and gently brushed his long hair behind Wen Qingci’s back.

His movements were exceptionally gentle.

But Wen Qingci finally sensed Xie Bufeng’s danger through the darkness of the night.

He fully regained consciousness.

At this moment, he was nestled in Xie Bufeng’s arms.

Through Xie Bufeng’s inner garment, Wen Qingci could not only smell the ambergris on his body, but also clearly feel his body temperature and the contours of his muscles.

“No need to get up.” Xie Bufeng pulled Wen Qingci into his arms.

Then, with unbridled abandon, he placed a kiss on the corner of his lips.

Xie Bufeng’s voice carried a hint of amusement: “What should I do, my beloved minister?”

…What? What should we do?

The next moment, the scenery in front of Wen Qingci suddenly changed.

By the time he realized what was happening, Xie Bufeng had already wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him to lie down on the inside of the bed.

The starlight was blocked behind Xie Bufeng.

All that remained between them was each other’s presence.

Xie Bufeng seemed to read Wen Qingci’s doubts. He whispered in the ear of the person beside him, “I want to push my luck and share a bed with you, my beloved minister. What should I do?”

He held Wen Qingci in his arms, entwining him like a python.

At this moment, Xie Bufeng was unwilling… unwilling to sleep on the other side of the screen as usual.

In the darkness, breathing, heartbeat, and all other changes are magnified infinitely.

Xie Bufeng gazed intently at the person in his arms.

The faint starlight fell on Wen Qingci.

His skin was so white it was almost translucent.

A touch of cinnabar seems to invite someone to kiss it.

Wen Qingci’s breathing became disordered.

He instinctively wanted to push the other person away, but in the end he gripped Xie Bufeng’s chest fabric tightly, took a deep breath, and slowly closed his eyes.

Wen Qingci’s heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

He slowly moved his body, making room for the other half of the pillow.

It seems he really intends to share a pillow with Xie Bufeng.

Xie Bufeng’s fingers paused involuntarily.

Under the starlight, Wen Qingci’s cheeks flushed slightly.

But the trembling eyelashes, like butterfly wings, betrayed the owner’s nervousness.

Wen Qingci couldn’t possibly be unaware of the phrase “sharing a bed and pillow”; he was just pretending to be stupid.

But Xie Bufeng showed no displeasure whatsoever.

On the contrary, even his eyes were overflowing with laughter.

Taking advantage of Wen Qingci’s indulgence, he lowered the bed curtains.

Wen Qingci and he were trapped in this small world.

Xie Bufeng’s fingers were still restless, slowly sliding down from the waist of the person in his arms.

The light-colored figure trembled uncontrollably.

Xie Bufeng seemed to be showing Wen Qingci what “taking an inch and then a mile” meant through his actions.

A note from the author:

Wen Qingci: Feigning Ignorance

Xie Bufeng: Unruly

He held his breath, afraid to disturb Xie Bufeng.

In the silence, his senses became painfully sharp.

His body felt as if a faint current had passed through it, instantly draining all strength.

Wen Qingci instinctively let his gaze fall aimlessly into the darkness.

In contrast to Wen Qingci, who barely dared to move, Xie Bufeng’s movements suddenly grew reckless.

Wen Qingci’s outer robe had slipped off his shoulder at some point.

As Xie Bufeng kissed his forehead, he gently untied the ribbon and let it fall down.

The moon‑white brocade, faintly shimmering with cool light, slipped from his shoulders in an instant.

Like moonlight melting onto the floor.

At this moment, Wen Qingci’s outer robe had fallen, his long hair was loose, and his eyes showed rare tension.

Every faint sound near his ear was magnified endlessly.

Wen Qingci saw that the side hall’s main door was only half‑closed.

A thin crack allowed light from the courtyard to spill in—  

someone could push the door open at any moment…

Wen Qingci’s mind went blank. He clenched the fabric at Xie Bufeng’s chest, trying to push him away.

But his resistance was so light it was negligible to Xie Bufeng.

Just when Wen Qingci thought he would ignore his struggle, Xie Bufeng unexpectedly went against instinct—  

while struggling to steady his breath, he slowly loosened his hold.

After a few seconds, he buried his face in Wen Qingci’s loose hair, greedily inhaling that faint bitter scent.

“Go out…” Xie Bufeng said in a muffled voice, suppressing his desire as he whispered in Wen Qingci’s ear.

Wen Qingci didn’t react at first.

Then a soft laugh sounded beside his ear. Xie Bufeng’s low voice, tinged with restraint and helplessness, drifted to him:  

“If you don’t leave now, my beloved minister… you are trusting me far too much.”

Wen Qingci: “……!”

The flush on his face spread across his entire body.

As an adult, Wen Qingci naturally understood what Xie Bufeng meant.

He immediately stood, grabbed his medicine box, and prepared to leave.

But the next moment, twenty years of medical instinct made him pause—  

he almost reminded the still‑poisoned patient of something. “Then Your Majesty…”

He stopped mid‑sentence, snapping out of his daze as his mind finally began functioning again.

He must be out of his mind—how could he speak so casually at a time like this!

In all his years of living, this was the first time Wen Qingci wanted to call himself stupid.

“No—nothing. This minister will leave now.”

Wen Qingci practically fled.

Just as he was about to exit the side hall, Xie Bufeng’s voice sounded again.

“Zhen will handle it myself.”

“Beloved minister need not worry.”

The echo of the hall blurred his tone.

But in Wen Qingci’s ears, the words sounded… pitiful.

The hall doors slowly closed, and everything inside…along with the scent of dragon musk…temporarily vanished from Wen Qingci’s world.

He had left in such a hurry that he hadn’t picked up his outer robe.

Now he wore only a thin summer garment; the breeze chilled him instantly.

Wen Qingci bit his lip and hurried toward the small courtyard with his medicine box.

But even after returning to his room, he remained unsettled.

His mind kept circling back to Xie Bufeng’s final words—  

wondering exactly how he intended to “handle it himself.”

* * *

Song Junran had already guessed that Wen Qingci being discovered by Xie Bufeng was likely connected to Eunuch Zhao.

But having learned from his mother how powerless palace servants were, he did not blame Eunuch Zhao. Instead, he simply added this grievance to the account he kept against Xie Bufeng.

Though not related by blood, Eunuch Zhao was like an uncle to Song Junran.

After the ancestral visit, Eunuch Zhao invited him to stay at his residence.

Song Junran did not refuse.

“Please try this, young master. I imagine nothing like it grows near Songxiu Prefecture.”

Eunuch Zhao smiled as he took the fruit plate from a servant and set it on the table.

Song Junran followed his gaze downward.

On the white porcelain plate lay a cluster of small, jewel‑like fruits, washed clean and glistening like amethyst.

Eunuch Zhao was right…he had never seen such a thing.

Curious, Song Junran picked one up. “What is this?”

Eunuch Zhao did not answer directly. “Taste it first.”

As a man of the jianghu, Song Junran had no habit of false modesty.

“In that case, I won’t hold back.”

Already curious, he placed the fruit in his mouth and bit down.

A burst of sweet‑tart flavor filled his mouth instantly.

His eyes lit up. “Is this a Yongdu specialty?”

“Not quite,” Eunuch Zhao shook his head. “This is an imperial gift. At present, only the palace has them. Hardly a ‘local specialty.’”

…So it was something Xie Bufeng had sent.

Suddenly, the fruit in Song Junran’s mouth no longer tasted sweet.

Having lived in the palace most of his life, Eunuch Zhao immediately noticed the disdain in Song Junran’s eyes.

He sighed and finally got to the point.

“I know what troubles you, young master.”

“So Eunuch Zhao is here today as a mediator?” Song Junran said bluntly, showing no mercy. “I suppose even the ancestral visit was part of your plan.”

His junior brother was skilled in medicine, but when it came to human relationships—especially matters of the heart—he was utterly clueless.

How could he possibly be a match for Xie Bufeng?

“No, no,” Eunuch Zhao waved his hands quickly. “His Highness did not send me. What I said earlier was entirely my own intention.”

“Very well. Then I won’t be coy.” Song Junran took a sip of cold tea. “You may not know my junior brother well, but I grew up with him. I know exactly how stubborn he is.”

Eunuch Zhao nodded.

“Xie Bufeng is the emperor. If he grows tired, he can walk away at any time. But Qingci cannot. And… you know better than I how foul the palace can be.”

At this, Song Junran gritted his teeth. “Besides, the things he’s done—no normal person would do such things!”

The scene at the Yin River Canal was carved into his memory, a lifelong shadow.

Eunuch Zhao slowly shook his head. “…His Majesty does think differently from ordinary people. But that is understandable. He grew up in the imperial mausoleum, without the restraints of ritual or propriety. He has always acted according to his heart.”

Song Junran remained silent.

Eunuch Zhao picked up a grape and chewed thoughtfully.

He closed his eyes and said softly, “In my view, His Majesty has never regarded himself as emperor in front of Mister Wen.”

Song Junran finally looked up. “What do you mean? Then what does Xie Bufeng see himself as?”

“…In His Majesty’s eyes, he is still that boy whom Mister Wen once took in at the Medical Bureau.”

In front of Wen Qingci, he seemed to forget entirely that he possessed overwhelming power.

And he could never be as cold as an emperor—  

never someone who could simply walk away.

“They lived together for so long, and from the very beginning they were mortal enemies,” Eunuch Zhao’s cloudy dark‑brown eyes slowly turned toward Song Junran. In his slightly hoarse voice, he asked, “Young master, do you think Mister Wen wouldn’t know who His Majesty is, or how dangerous he can be?”

After a moment of silence, Song Junran suddenly lowered his gaze with a faint smile and popped another grape into his mouth.

Although Xie Bufeng refused to let him see Wen Qingci…afraid he would “steal” Wen Qingci out of Taishu Palace again like before…he had not sealed off information.

Thus, Song Junran naturally heard about what had happened in the Medical Bureau.

The sweet‑tart juice filled his mouth.

He swallowed it, remained silent for a long time, and finally said:

“Life is short.”

“…I haven’t even figured out my own life. How could I make decisions for someone else?”

Song Junran tossed another grape into his mouth. As he slowly chewed, his gaze drifted toward the courtyard outside.

“No one can stop my junior brother from doing what he wants. If he chooses to stay, not even the gods could change his mind.” He paused for a few seconds, then added, “If he doesn’t want to stay here, I can take him home. And no one will ever find him again.”

His words immediately reminded Eunuch Zhao of Wen Qingci’s revenge.

“All right, all right,” Eunuch Zhao blinked in surprise, then slowly nodded. “Young master is right. All he needs now is time. From what I’ve seen, His Majesty toward Mister Wen—”

He stopped mid‑sentence and glanced uncertainly at Song Junran.

“That’s enough,” Song Junran grabbed a handful of grapes, giving Eunuch Zhao a half‑smile. “If you want to speak well of Xie Bufeng, you don’t need to beat around the bush.”

“For him to make you willingly defend him… that’s quite a skill.”

Although palace eunuchs interacted with nobles daily, their salaries barely allowed them to survive in Yongdu.

Eunuch Zhao’s residence on the outskirts of the capital was small but newly renovated.

This was not something he could have afforded on his own.

And it wasn’t just Eunuch Zhao’s residence.

Only in the past few days…when he revisited old places on a whim…did Song Junran discover:

After he closed his medical clinic in Yongdu, Xie Bufeng took it over.

He hadn’t changed a single thing inside.

Instead, he carefully maintained it, preserving its original appearance.

Song Junran also knew… Xie Bufeng was using imperial authority to spread word of Wen Qingci’s deeds in Lianhe, subtly guiding the public to accept them.

Under the push of the most powerful hands in the world—

Many people had begun to take interest in Wen Qingci’s theories.

This was indeed what his junior brother desired most.

Anything related to Wen Qingci was always held close to Xie Bufeng’s heart.

As emperor, he was doing everything possible to keep Wen Qingci.

Yet he didn’t dare say it aloud, afraid of startling him—

“…Why aren’t you speaking? How is the medicine?”

“Did something go wrong?”

Seeing Wen Qingci staring blankly at the decocted medicine without saying a word, the young physician delivering it grew uneasy.

Unable to hold back, he reached out and gently tapped Wen Qingci’s shoulder.

“…Hm?”

Wen Qingci finally returned to himself.

Because of the veil, the physician couldn’t see his expression.

So he asked again, “You’ve been staring at the medicine without speaking. Was it not prepared properly today?”

“No, I was just distracted… thinking about something else.” As he spoke, Wen Qingci took the bowl from the food box and set it on the tray.

His sleeve slid down with the movement.

The next second, both he and the young physician saw it—  

the tips of his fingers were faintly red.

“Ahem.” Wen Qingci coughed lightly and hid his hand in his sleeve.

“All right, as long as the medicine is fine.” After a pause, the young physician packed up the empty food box and added meaningfully, “You’ve been distracted quite often lately.”

“Is it because of His Majesty?” he suddenly leaned closer, asking with a hint of gossip.

Yesterday, when he delivered medicine, he happened to run into Xie Bufeng.

The emperor was not wearing his usual wide‑sleeved robe, but a dark narrow‑sleeved round‑collared one.

The clean, off‑white wool bracelet stood out sharply against the dark fabric.

Impossible to ignore.

…The old, worn bracelet had held extraordinary meaning for Xie Bufeng.

And now, he has replaced it.

Did this mean His Majesty no longer saw this colleague from Songxiu Prefecture as a mere “substitute,” but had developed genuine feelings?

The side room fell silent.

Wen Qingci’s heart trembled slightly at the physician’s words.

He lifted the tray and…almost involuntarily…nodded.

The next moment, he froze completely.

Wait! What did he just do?

But unlike Wen Qingci, the young physician didn’t seem surprised at all.

“I knew it!” he said, sounding excited.

Though he had worked with “Physician Wen Qingci” for a long time, they had only been acquaintances.

Back then, perhaps only Yu Guanlin and Wen Qingci were familiar with each other.

But he and the colleague before him had survived life‑and‑death together.

Naturally, his loyalties leaned toward someone he knew.

Realizing this, the physician couldn’t help feeling happy for him.

But he also couldn’t help worrying.

After hesitating, he whispered, “I know His Majesty treats you well, and it’s understandable you’d fall for him. But… as someone who’s been in Taishu Palace for years, I must remind you.”

Wen Qingci turned, puzzled.

Remind him?

“His Majesty’s feelings for the former Physician Wen are deep—everyone knows it. Now he meets you, and after only a few days he treats you so well. At first glance, it looks like genuine affection, which is good. But if you think carefully, you should still stay calm.” The young physician clearly regarded Wen Qingci as one of his own; his words were heartfelt.

Wen Qingci instinctively asked, “How do you know His Majesty has… genuine feelings for me?”

His voice grew softer as he spoke.

The physician asked, “Did you also give His Majesty a bracelet?”

“Yes.”

The physician’s tone immediately lifted, and he clapped his hands. “Then that explains it! Yesterday I saw His Majesty wearing a narrow‑sleeved robe for the first time. And he wore the bracelet over the sleeve. If that’s not showing off, what is?”

So Xie Bufeng changed clothes… because of that?

Wen Qingci realized he truly was slow when it came to social matters.

And instead of calming him, the young physician’s words only made his cheeks burn hotter.

Growing excited, the physician forgot to lower his voice.

The next second, his words echoed through the courtyard—  

and he suddenly broke into a cold sweat.

“…Tell me, was I speaking too loudly just now?”

“It was indeed not quiet.”

A low voice came from outside the courtyard.

This time, the one answering him was not Wen Qingci—

but Xie Bufeng, dressed in a dark narrow‑sleeved robe.

The physician instantly turned pale as death.

How much had His Majesty heard?

Had he only caught the last sentence, or had he heard everything?

It was over. His Majesty’s change of affection might have been fast, but toward Physician Wen…and toward this colleague…his feelings were absolutely genuine.

No matter how much he heard, what he had just said was enough to offend the emperor.

Xie Bufeng’s expression was blank, his tone calm, scaring the young physician half to death.

But Wen Qingci saw… a hint of amusement in Xie Bufeng’s eyes.

The side room was small, and once Xie Bufeng entered, the space felt even more cramped.

The young physician didn’t dare breathe loudly.

He clutched the food box handle, wishing he could bury his face in the ground.

After an unknown amount of time, Xie Bufeng finally spoke again:  

“Standing here…are you waiting for a reward?”

His tone was icy, clearly not directed at Wen Qingci.

“Ah—!” The young physician froze, then couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Xie Bufeng.

In that instant, he finally realized…His Majesty did not intend to punish him.

“Y‑yes, this minister will take his leave—!”

Still unsure how he had survived this disaster, the young physician fled as fast as he could.

Only two people remained in the room.

Wen Qingci was about to lift the medicine from the tray to hand it to Xie Bufeng, but the emperor’s movement interrupted him.

Xie Bufeng slowly reached out and removed Wen Qingci’s veil.

Looking into his eyes, he lowered his voice:  

“I was showing off.”

As the emperor of a nation, Xie Bufeng’s voice carried a hint of childishness that appeared only before Wen Qingci:  

“If my beloved minister would give me more gifts, so I could show off even more… that would be wonderful.”

He lifted Wen Qingci’s long hair and tucked it gently behind his ear.

Xie Bufeng’s tone was serious—he was not joking.

…Even with the wealth of the world, he still wanted something from Wen Qingci’s hands.

Xie Bufeng lacked nothing.

He simply wanted more ties…more connections…to Wen Qingci.

…

Wen Qingci never learned how much of the conversation Xie Bufeng had overheard.

Nor did he know whether Xie Bufeng had heard the earlier part about him “being distracted.”

Wen Qingci couldn’t help replaying the conversation in his mind over and over.

He never found an answer.

The only thing that became clearer with each recollection was this—  

he had been distracted because of Xie Bufeng.

*

The front courtyard of the Medical Bureau wasn’t exactly bustling, but people still came and went regularly.

At some point, rumors about “the physician from Songxiu Prefecture” and the emperor had spread throughout Taishu Palace and even all of Yongdu.

In Huixin Palace, the Empress Dowager sat behind a table, sipping tea.

Beside her sat several rare visitors.

“I heard His Majesty’s health is poor, so I brought a Buddha statue from the temple. I came today to pay my respects…”  

The speaker was the former Consort Hui.

Though now a Dowager Consort, she dressed as brightly as ever—perhaps even more so. Clearly, her life had been comfortable.

The official day of appointment had not yet arrived, but the news that Xie Bufeng intended to name Xie Guanzhi as Imperial Younger Brother was already widely known.

Dowager Consort Hui had always been adaptable. Now, her words were full of sincere concern and respect.

The Empress Dowager believed she wasn’t pretending.

Xie Guanzhi had not yet been formally appointed, and Dowager Consort Hui was likely the person most afraid of Xie Bufeng suddenly meeting with misfortune.

Xie Guanzhi, who had come with her, also nodded.

But his purpose differed slightly from his mother’s.

He had heard many rumors about Xie Bufeng and the physician.

He believed that if Xie Bufeng had the energy to stir up so many stories, his health couldn’t be too bad.

Thus, Xie Guanzhi’s real reason for entering the palace was to see for himself who this physician was.

Thinking of this, his expression darkened.

…Wen Qingci had been dead for barely a year, and Xie Bufeng had already fallen for someone else?

Had all that devotion before been nothing but an act?

The thought made Xie Guanzhi feel indignant on Wen Qingci’s behalf.

Hearing Dowager Consort Hui’s words, the Empress Dowager paused, slowly setting down her teacup.

Her expression was slightly strange.

Unlike the mother and son who knew nothing, the Empress Dowager had already guessed who the physician was—and sensed that the emperor’s “illness” was anything but ordinary.

That was why she had not visited the “ailing” Xie Bufeng.

Sitting beside her, little Princess Xie Fuyin tugged at her sleeve. “Mother, I want to see my brother too.”

The Empress Dowager sighed softly.

Xie Bufeng bringing back an empty coffin had been far too extreme.

She feared he might do something even more reckless, endangering the realm—or worse, use imperial power to dig up the Divine Medicine Valley.

After much struggle, she had chosen to tell him about Eunuch Zhao.

But that didn’t erase her private guilt.

…The Empress Dowager had always felt remorse toward Wen Qingci.

That guilt gnawed at her heart day by day, leaving her sleepless.

“Mother?” Xie Fuyin tugged again.

“All right.” The Empress Dowager gently took her hand and smiled. “Let us go see His Majesty.”

At the same time, she clenched her other hand tightly.

Though Xie Bufeng was her son, there was a thirteen‑year gulf between them.

She could not be sure she truly understood him.

There were no rumors in the palace, but she had seen firsthand how frighteningly extreme he could be.

She couldn’t help worrying…

Would His Majesty do something harmful to Wen Qingci?

If he did, then even at the cost of her life, she would stop him.

The Empress Dowager bit her lip, making up her mind.

“All right!”  

Unlike her troubled mother, Xie Fuyin’s eyes lit up.

Her mother had forbidden her from disturbing her brother these past days, so she hadn’t seen the rabbit at the Medical Bureau for a long time.

Children didn’t fully understand what “illness” meant.

Hearing she could visit Xie Bufeng, she was excited to see her brother—and eager to feed the rabbit.

“Sister Mingliu,” Xie Fuyin tugged the Empress Dowager’s hand and turned to the maid, “can you prepare some hay for me?”

Xie Guanzhi, as the future heir, naturally had serious matters to discuss with Xie Bufeng.

And if Xie Bufeng truly did something to Wen Qingci, such a scene should not be witnessed by Xie Fuyin…

Better to let her play with the rabbit in the courtyard.

The Empress Dowager nodded to Mingliu. “Prepare some for the princess.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The palace road leading to the Medical Bureau had never been so lively.

As daylight faded, dozens of palace lanterns lit up one by one, forming a long fiery dragon that illuminated the evening.

After the time of one incense stick—

A eunuch’s sharp voice pierced the quiet of the Medical Bureau, carrying clearly to everyone present, including Wen Qingci:

“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager arrives—  

His Highness Prince Heng arrives—  

Dowager Consort Hui arrives—”

Ever since that day, whenever the poison acted up, Xie Bufeng would cling to him, holding him as if he were an antidote and refusing to let go.

There was not a trace of imperial dignity left in him.

Though it was late summer, the heat had not eased at all.

Xie Bufeng was tall and broad enough to wrap Wen Qingci completely in his arms, and his embrace was scorching.

Even Wen Qingci, whose unusual constitution kept his body temperature lower than most, felt uncomfortably warm.

Yet he did not push Xie Bufeng away.

He applied the same rigor and seriousness he used in medicine to this situation.

He treated the embrace as an experiment, and after several trials finally confirmed… he did not seem to dislike being held by Xie Bufeng.

* * *

The imperial physician arrived on time with the freshly decocted medicine.

The prescriptions Wen Qingci sent each day were always different.

It was the same physician as before, but today he finally refrained from chatting about irrelevant things.

After setting the medicine down, he couldn’t help asking, “The prescriptions you write are all heavy doses. May I ask who taught you? This style… I’ve never seen it before.”

Wen Qingci removed the lid of the food container and replied, “The heavy doses were not taught by my master.”

“I see.” The young physician’s eyes lit up. “So you developed them yourself.”

Wen Qingci gave a soft smile. “Something like that.”

Without the white veil covering his face, his voice sounded clear and smooth, like jade beads falling onto a plate.

…What an extraordinary presence.

The young physician’s mind blanked for a moment, his ears turning red.

He cleared his throat hastily. “To be honest, many people in the Medical Bureau are very interested in your prescriptions and in what happened in Lianhe. They want to learn from you.”

“Learn from me?” Wen Qingci paused, his hands stilling.

His reputation as the “Rakshasa” had been too notorious. Even within the Medical Bureau, colleagues had always kept their distance.

He had never imagined that one day someone would be interested in his methods.

Realizing his tone had been too sharp, he added, “You are an imperial physician. Why would you learn from me?”

Though no one said it aloud, palace physicians always looked down on those without formal lineage.

The young man smiled. “Your methods in Lianhe have already been spread by His Majesty across the provinces. This is the kind of thing that founds a school.”

Plague outbreaks occurred almost every year in different places and in different forms.

Before this year, the common people could only accept death when plague struck.

Until Wen Qingci appeared, and for the first time, there was an answer.

Unlike the past, when he fought alone and was misunderstood, everything he did in Lianhe was backed by the authorities, even by the emperor himself.

Xie Bufeng was using imperial power to make the world accept Wen Qingci’s medical concepts.

So the young physician’s words were not exaggerated.

What Wen Qingci did in Lianhe had already spread widely.

Because of its success, some people no longer resisted dissection.

After all, compared to dying whole, they preferred to live.

The entire Wei dynasty’s understanding of medicine was quietly shifting because of this.

From this perspective, Wen Qingci truly had founded a new path.

The young physician looked at him with eager anticipation.

After a moment of thought, Wen Qingci finally said slowly, “When the ingredients are too many, the treatment becomes chaotic. A prescription should avoid such excess.”

He had never encountered someone interested in his formulas.

Seeing the physician’s curiosity, he began analyzing each ingredient one by one.

“…Makes sense.” The young physician could only nod repeatedly.

Wen Qingci glanced at the bowl of medicine and added, “If I’m not mistaken, though the decoction is good, the soaking time was still a bit short.”

In the Wei dynasty, few people paid attention to this.

“You mean I should soak it longer?”

Wen Qingci nodded. “Yes. A longer soak allows the components to dissolve properly.”

“I understand, I understand.” The physician nodded quickly, then said with some embarrassment, “It seems today’s medicine still isn’t up to your standards. I’ll improve it tomorrow.”

His decoction was already excellent. It was simply that Wen Qingci’s standards were too sharp.

But seeing how eager he was for tomorrow’s prescription, Wen Qingci smiled lightly. “All right.”

Having endured hardship together in Lianhe, the two had some camaraderie. After discussing the prescription, the physician asked cautiously, “How long do you plan to stay in Yongdu this time?”

Then he suddenly remembered something. “Ah… why am I asking you? It’s not up to you. It depends on when His Majesty is willing to let you go.”

He clearly still believed Wen Qingci was the substitute Xie Bufeng had brought in.

“Ah…” The physician sighed softly. “But that might actually be a good thing.”

“How so?” Wen Qingci asked.

“Not just me. Many colleagues are interested in your medical skills. If His Majesty… grows tired of you someday, or stops keeping such a close eye on you, you can come talk with us and teach us.”

Wen Qingci’s fingers twitched.

Ignoring the words “keeping an eye on,” he realized he was genuinely interested.

…His childhood memories had been a lifelong nightmare.

He did not want another Shanyujian to exist in the world.

To prevent that, he could not rely on himself alone.

Though he had only studied until his second year of university in his previous life, he still benefited from a more advanced way of thinking.

Letting that vanish with his death would be a waste.

Passing it on would be far better.

The Medical Bureau housed the best physicians of this era.

If he could exchange knowledge with them, it would be ideal.

But that also meant he would have to stay here… stay by Xie Bufeng’s side.

At that thought, Wen Qingci’s heartbeat quickened.

Seeing his hesitation, the young physician naturally placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well? Think about it.”

Wen Qingci had mild cleanliness habits and disliked close contact.

He instinctively moved to avoid the touch.

But before he could, a familiar voice sounded behind them.

Xie Bufeng, dressed in black brocade, walked out from the side hall.

“…Y, Your Majesty?”

“Long live the emperor, long live, long live, long live…”

The young physician’s vision went dark. He had just gossiped about the emperor’s scandal right in front of him.

Xie Bufeng didn’t spare him a glance. He simply pulled Wen Qingci into his arms and murmured, “…Tired of you?”

His voice was slow, as if savoring the words.

Then, right in front of the physician, he whispered into Wen Qingci’s ear, “I will never tire of you. I… only fear that one day you will tire of me.”

His tone was full of anxious longing.

As he spoke, he tightened his arms, holding Wen Qingci even closer.

Every movement revealed his unease.

The young physician, kneeling on the ground, stared wide‑eyed.

His Majesty… afraid of being disliked?

…Was this a joke?

Xie Bufeng lowered his voice, brushing his lips against Wen Qingci’s. Only the two of them could hear him. “Will you?”

“W… what?” Wen Qingci’s body had gone weak and numb.

He could barely stand, his mind blank.

He heard Xie Bufeng whisper, “Will you tire of me?”

Wen Qingci had once feared him, once avoided him, but now he realized… he had never truly disliked him.

In that instant, the scalpel in his heart seemed to sink deeper.

He understood clearly that he had never been tired of Xie Bufeng.

“No.”

Wen Qingci lifted his gaze, meeting those pale amber eyes.

His voice was utterly sincere.

The next moment, Xie Bufeng lost control. One arm wrapped around Wen Qingci’s waist, the other lifted his veil, and he pressed a gentle, emotionless kiss to Wen Qingci’s eyes.

Wen Qingci did not know how important his answer was to Xie Bufeng.

Nor how deeply the emperor feared hearing the word “tired” from him.

Even poisoned, his physical condition was still far better than Wen Qingci’s.

Xie Bufeng lowered his gaze and shook his head lightly. “That is because I once drank your blood.”

When Wen Qingci moved to stand, Xie Bufeng suddenly took his left hand gently.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked softly.

His eyes were filled with guilt and tenderness.

Back then, Wen Qingci’s bleeding would not stop no matter what they tried. They had been forced to seal the acupoints with silver needles.

Xie Bufeng had watched with his own eyes as the cold, half‑hand‑long needles pierced into Wen Qingci’s arm, as if they would go straight through him.

As he spoke, Xie Bufeng lifted Wen Qingci’s sleeve.

His left arm was covered in scars.

On the pale skin, aside from the snake bite marks, the wounds left by the silver needles were still faintly visible.

“It stopped hurting long ago.” Wen Qingci pressed down on Xie Bufeng’s restless hand. He did not want those scars exposed. “My arm is scarred. It looks unsightly.”

“Not unsightly.” Xie Bufeng shook his head stubbornly. He looked into Wen Qingci’s eyes. “Qingci has never had anything to do with the word ‘ugly’.”

His tone was so earnest, without a trace of teasing or flirtation.

Yet it was precisely that sincerity that caught Wen Qingci off guard.

Especially the way he said “Qingci”… like a feather brushing lightly across his heart.

He did not even know when Xie Bufeng had begun calling him that.

Wen Qingci pulled his hand back with a small effort. “Your Majesty, there should be distinction between ruler and subject. You should call me…” Physician Wen.

But Xie Bufeng was faster.

The moment the words “distinction between ruler and subject” left Wen Qingci’s lips, Xie Bufeng naturally added two more. “My beloved minister.”

His voice was quiet, falling against Wen Qingci’s ear like a whisper.

Beloved minister?

It was a standard imperial address. Nothing strange about it.

But coming from Xie Bufeng now, it carried a subtle, indescribable intimacy.

In an instant, Wen Qingci was pulled back to the day Xie Bufeng had said “Beloved minister, rise.”

Wen Qingci: “…”

Even the dullest person would notice that Xie Bufeng was teasing him.

If his tone had been playful, it might have been easier to ignore. But Xie Bufeng’s expression was serious, almost solemn.

The combination made it even more devastating.

The air around them seemed to heat up.

Wen Qingci instinctively wanted to escape.

He had just risen from the stool by the bed and had not yet picked up his medicine box when footsteps suddenly sounded outside the hall.

“Reporting to Your Majesty, the Chiye King and Ahe King of the Northern Di request an audience.”

Though still recovering, Xie Bufeng could not delay state affairs.

He still had to attend court, review memorials, and meet those who needed to be seen.

“Let them in,” Xie Bufeng said calmly.

Seeing this, Wen Qingci immediately lifted his medicine box, ready to leave the side hall.

But in the next moment, Xie Bufeng raised a hand to stop him. “Beloved minister, no need to avoid them.”

Before Wen Qingci could react, Xie Bufeng wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him onto the bed.

As Wen Qingci lost balance, Xie Bufeng brushed a fingertip across his lips, blocking the startled sound that almost escaped.

The side hall had once been part of the Medical Bureau, but its furnishings were anything but simple.

The priceless huanghuali bed glowed under the lamplight.

The carved five‑clawed dragon on the frame was a constant reminder of the owner’s identity… the reigning emperor.

It was a dragon bed. Only the emperor was allowed to use it.

The footsteps outside grew louder as the two Northern Di Kings approached under the eunuch’s guidance.

Wen Qingci was startled by Xie Bufeng’s actions and whispered urgently, “Your Majesty, let me go. This is far too improper.”

If not for Xie Bufeng’s hand still holding his waist, he would have fled already.

“All of Wei knows that Physician Wen Qingci is mine,” Xie Bufeng whispered back, lowering his voice to match Wen Qingci’s. “With you sitting here, what impropriety is there?”

Wen Qingci tried to struggle.

But Xie Bufeng’s strength was not something he could resist.

The beaded curtain, heavy with gems, rattled sharply with Wen Qingci’s movements, completely scattering his composure.

At that moment, the Chiye King and Ahe King entered the hall.

They were representatives of the Northern Di nobles who had submitted to Wei, here for their routine audience.

As subjects, they could not raise their heads without permission.

Having already submitted to Wei, they heard the constant rattling of the beads but did not dare look up to see that two people were sitting on the dragon bed.

They bowed with hands over their chests, saluting Xie Bufeng.

Seeing them arrive, Wen Qingci immediately froze, even holding his breath, terrified of being discovered.

“We greet Your Majesty. Long live the emperor, long live, long live…”

The Northern Di nobles had learned to use the official language to greet him.

“Rise.”

Xie Bufeng’s hand brushed Wen Qingci’s waist.

He pulled the man who kept trying to slip away closer, preventing him from falling off the edge of the bed.

He whispered, “Beloved minister, lean closer. You might fall.”

Then he lifted his gaze and asked calmly, “How are the pastures in the Northern Di this summer? Are the grasses abundant?”

His tone shifted instantly into formal authority, as if he had not been whispering into Wen Qingci’s ear a moment ago.

He went straight to the point. The two kings dared not delay and immediately delivered their prepared report.

Their accents were heavy, but Wen Qingci, forced to remain here, soon understood their meaning. It was also the first time he learned how Xie Bufeng controlled the Northern Di.

In the past, the tribes wandered aimlessly across the land, following water and grass.

After conquering them, Xie Bufeng divided the territory into hundreds of districts.

Each district had a fixed population and could not cross borders at will.

If one district suffered a disaster, the court would transport grass from other districts. This was the policy of “moving grass, not people.”

Over time, interaction between districts weakened, preventing the formation of a unified, powerful force like in the past.

The two kings were here to report the summer conditions and await the court’s allocation.

It was land he had conquered himself.

Xie Bufeng knew every blade of grass in the Northern Di.

He did not even look at a map before accurately planning the transport routes.

His low voice echoed through the side hall.

Unhurried and steady, carrying the natural authority of an emperor.

Through the gently swaying beaded curtain, Wen Qingci saw that even the Chiye King and Ahe King looked at Xie Bufeng with unconcealed admiration.

And whenever Xie Bufeng paused, a flicker of fear crossed their faces.

Wen Qingci had to admit that although Xie Bufeng was reckless in private, he was exceptionally competent as a ruler.

He was a true sovereign who held real power over the world.

Only… these two kings likely never imagined that the emperor of Wei was not nearly as proper as they thought.

The Chiye King continued, “This summer’s vegetables have already been shipped from Changyuan. They should arrive in Molu County within seven days.”

The moment the word “Changyuan” left his mouth, Xie Bufeng’s hand tightened instinctively around Wen Qingci’s waist.

Wen Qingci’s waist was sensitive. His body reacted before he could think, trembling slightly at the pressure.

His elbow bumped the beaded curtain, sending another sharp cascade of rattling sounds through the hall.

The two men standing below the steps instinctively lifted their heads.

And saw…

Behind the curtain studded with gems and coral, two blurred figures sitting together.

“!!”

They exchanged a look, both seeing shock and something ambiguous in the other’s eyes.

If they were not mistaken, the person sitting beside the emperor was a man.

Even in the distant Northern Di, they had heard the rumors that the emperor of Wei favored men.

It was said his beloved had already passed away.

Could the one behind the curtain be his new favorite?

While his companion spoke, Ahe King could not resist lifting his eyes for a quick glance.

As the beaded curtain stilled, he clearly saw a pale, slender figure seated beside Xie Bufeng on the dragon bed.

His features were cool and refined, with a touch of cinnabar between his brows, resembling the statues in Wei’s temple murals.

Ahe King had long since been beaten into submission by Xie Bufeng and sincerely acknowledged him as his ruler.

But that did not mean he was willing to bow to a male favorite.

He thought with disdain, “Just a bed companion… how did he get to sit there? And even receive my salute. When His Majesty grows tired of him, I will take him back to the North.”

Xie Bufeng narrowed his eyes.

A sharp crack sounded.

A porcelain bowl flew out from behind the beaded curtain.

The thin porcelain shattered into blades, slicing through a strand of beads.

Jewels scattered across the floor, clattering in every direction.

The bowl struck Ahe King squarely on the forehead and shattered into pieces.

“Ah—”

The porcelain edge cut his brow, and blood streamed down his face in an instant.

“My empress… is not someone your eyes may look upon.”
Xie Bufeng spoke in the Northern Di.

E… empress?

Ahe King froze, then immediately dropped to his knees, knocking his head against the floor in panic.

His hands trembled violently.

There was a hint of amusement in Xie Bufeng’s voice, but Ahe King, who had once been his enemy, knew well that the more casual and smiling the emperor sounded, the more dangerous he was.

He feared the next words would be an order to gouge out his eyes.

Within seconds, a pool of blood formed on the floor.

“What is he doing?” Wen Qingci was startled by Ahe King’s frantic kowtowing.

“Nothing.” Xie Bufeng did not want Wen Qingci to know what the man had been thinking.

By now, the Chiye King had finished his report, and Xie Bufeng had issued his instructions.

Seeing the blood on the floor, he finally said in the Northern Di with faint disgust, “Leave. My empress does not like this smell.”

“Yes, yes!”

Ahe King scrambled up and retreated with the Chiye King, even wiping the blood from the floor with his sleeve before leaving.

Incense burned in the hall, and within moments the scent of blood faded.

Wen Qingci finally let out a quiet breath.

They were gone.

He was about to stand and leave as well.

But Xie Bufeng leaned close and murmured in his ear, “The Northern summer is not like Yongdu. Even at noon, there is a chill in the air. When the rains are good, the grass grows to a man’s waist, and the meltwater from the snow mountains runs through the pastures… Next year, I will take you there.”

As he finished speaking, he could not resist gently biting Wen Qingci’s earlobe. His breath faltered. “We can return to Changyuan as well… back to the city lord’s manor.”

Changyuan. The city lord’s manor.

Everything that had happened there was still carved clearly into Wen Qingci’s memory.

After that confession, Xie Bufeng had stopped hiding the darker thoughts he harbored toward Wen Qingci.

Everything reminded Wen Qingci that he could no longer treat Xie Bufeng as a child.

He no longer needed pity.

He was an adult. A dangerous adult with desire and obsession.

A man who had walked the battlefield and knew better than anyone how to conquer.

He did not know what Wen Qingci had been thinking when he returned to Yongdu, but everything he did was pushing Wen Qingci to face his own heart… and testing his limits.

The memories of Changyuan surged up again.

And Xie Bufeng reluctantly released his earlobe.

Wen Qingci shot to his feet, stepping back half a pace.

He turned away and said coldly, “Your Majesty… how can you do such things in a place like this?”

He tried to sound stern, but the words came out with a faint tremor.

His cheeks flushed.

Realizing his state was wrong, Wen Qingci immediately turned and walked toward the exit with his medicine box.

Xie Bufeng understood perfectly well what he meant, but deliberately twisted the meaning. “So my beloved minister thinks this place is not formal enough?”

His face remained cold, his voice low and calm, as if discussing official matters.

Wen Qingci had already reached the doorway when his steps faltered.

He found himself thinking, almost reflexively… what would count as formal?

Realizing what he had just been imagining, his face burned hot.

Only Wen Qingci knew just how tangled his feelings were at this moment.

The hall was utterly silent.

Xie Bufeng lowered his gaze, staring deeply into Wen Qingci’s eyes, waiting for his answer.

Time seemed to freeze within the dim candlelight.

After an unknown stretch of silence, Wen Qingci slowly lowered his eyes.

Xie Bufeng’s breath halted.

…He was waiting for that answer.

But before he could react, Wen Qingci suddenly turned away.

Xie Bufeng’s jaw tightened instantly, a dull ache spreading through his chest.

Was Qingci still going to leave?

The thought had barely formed when he realized—

Wen Qingci wasn’t walking toward the door.

…He had turned toward another candle stand at the side of the hall, picked up a fire striker, and lit the candles.

Flames bloomed at once, spiraling up the dragon‑shaped stand.

In the blink of an eye, the entire side hall brightened.

Eyes accustomed to darkness narrowed slightly.

That slender, pale figure seemed to gain warmth in the sudden light.

His clear voice followed, drifting to Xie Bufeng’s ears as Wen Qingci said calmly, “The four steps of diagnosis—inspection, listening, inquiry, and pulse—none can be omitted. I need proper light to examine you.”

With that, he turned and lifted the medicine box he had set aside earlier.

His movements were as elegant as Xie Bufeng remembered.

A faint, familiar bitterness of herbs spread in the air.

In an instant, overwhelming joy washed away the ache in Xie Bufeng’s chest.

…Wen Qingci wasn’t leaving.

At least not tonight.

* * *

The dosage of the pills Xie Bufeng had taken was no small matter. Even if Wen Qingci wanted to help, as a “half‑made” medicinal body, his blood alone was far from enough to detoxify Xie Bufeng.

In every sense, the young emperor had left himself no retreat.

With poison still in his system, Xie Bufeng’s condition was poor…fatigue struck him often.

Once Wen Qingci got his answer, he immediately ordered Xie Bufeng to rest, slipping back into his role as imperial physician.

This time, Xie Bufeng actually listened.

When everything was finally settled, Wen Qingci walked alone down the familiar corridors of the Imperial Medical Bureau, heading toward the small courtyard.

He knew what pills Xie Bufeng had taken, but to detoxify him quickly, he needed to determine the exact proportions.

Even Wen Qingci couldn’t keep every formula perfectly memorized.

If he remembered correctly, the medical texts he brought to Yongdu should contain the records.

They should still be in his old residence…

His footsteps echoed through the empty palace path, sounding especially lonely.

But the rhythmic echoes gradually calmed his heart.

After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Wen Qingci stopped before a familiar gate and looked up at the tall magnolia tree inside.

After becoming a Hanlin scholar, he had his own residence outside the palace.

But to him, this small courtyard in the Medical Bureau had been his “home” for those years.

After a brief pause to steady himself, he carefully pushed open the gate.

…Everything remained as it had been.

The late‑summer sun was still harsh, the air dry.

A bamboo basket in the corner held herbs laid out to dry—

and judging by the arrangement, someone had turned them not long ago.

Wen Qingci hesitated. Instead of going to his bedroom first, he walked toward the side room.

The clay stove and the purple clay pot he once used to cook magnolia porridge were still there, neatly placed.

Even the porcelain jar beside them still held dried magnolia petals.

He reached out and brushed the stove with his fingertips—

not a speck of dust clung to his skin.

For a moment, he felt an illusion—

as if the warmth on the stove had not yet faded.

Stop thinking nonsense. Focus on the task!

Realizing he was drifting, Wen Qingci forced his thoughts back on track.

He stepped out of the side room and headed to the bedroom.

With a soft scrape, the wooden door opened.

Just like the courtyard, everything inside remained unchanged…

The bedding was neatly folded, the tables and chairs spotless.

As if the owner had only stepped out briefly and would return any moment.

Wen Qingci stood inside, dazed.

Had Xie Bufeng been the one maintaining all this?

Impossible. He was the emperor, how could he have time to tidy this place every day?

—The thought barely formed before Wen Qingci dismissed it himself.

His gaze swept the room and finally landed on the desk.

Remembering his purpose, he quickly walked over and began searching.

There was no ready‑made antidote for these poisons—only detoxification methods.

If Xie Bufeng had taken only one, it would be simple.

But with so many mixed together, he had to consider interactions and taboos carefully.

The candlelight illuminated the small room, softening Wen Qingci’s features.

Whenever he read medical texts, he became completely absorbed.

After finding the book that recorded the pills, Wen Qingci began writing notes, analyzing possible antidotes.

By the time he looked up, the moon was already high.

He set down his brush and stretched his wrist.

It was late—he should rest soon.

Just then, a cool late‑summer breeze drifted through the window, brushing his uncovered cheek and stirring his dark hair.

His gaze drifted outside—

He had only meant to glance casually, but instead he saw—

Xie Bufeng, dressed in dark robes, carrying a lantern, walking slowly into the courtyard.

Their eyes met.

“…Your Majesty?” Wen Qingci blurted out, quickly looking away.

Wait…what was Xie Bufeng doing here in the middle of the night?

The courtyard wasn’t large. With his long stride, Xie Bufeng crossed it in a few steps.

Before Wen Qingci could think, Xie Bufeng extinguished the lantern and hung it outside the door.

Only then did Wen Qingci remember what the young physician in Lianhe had told him—

Xie Bufeng still lived in his old residence.

So… he came here to sleep!

They had been roommates for quite some time before.

But that was nothing like today.

Back then, Xie Bufeng had been a boy.

Now he was grown—

and had said those things to him.

Once his attention left the medical texts, Xie Bufeng’s whispered confession echoed again in Wen Qingci’s heart.

Like a stone sinking into a cold lake.

The quiet night magnified the tension in the room.

He had lived here for years.

Yet only now did Wen Qingci realize—

this bedroom was very small.

He instinctively stepped back half a pace, forcing himself to sound calm as he said, “Your Majesty isn’t returning to the palace tonight?”

His mind was a storm, but he kept his face composed.

Unlike him, Xie Bufeng’s tone was steady, as if simply answering a question.

“This has been my residence for the past year.”

He paused, then added, “…I did not move into Yiguang Hall. And Yuguang Palace has long been uninhabited—still in ruins.”

His voice was low, slightly hoarse.

It carried a quiet, convincing weight.

Yiguang Hall was the traditional sleeping quarters of emperors.

The deposed emperor Xie Zhao had lived there before his death, and the coup had erupted outside its doors—

an ill‑omened place.

It made sense Xie Bufeng avoided it.

And Yuguang Palace had been dilapidated for years….barely suitable for a prince, let alone an emperor.

Wen Qingci nodded, a faint heaviness settling in his chest.

How had he not known that His Majesty the Emperor lived such a “miserable” life?

Everyone in Taishu Palace knew that Xie Bufeng had turned the former Imperial Medical Bureau into his residence.

For the moment, Wen Qingci truly had no grounds to righteously “evict” the emperor from here.

As for himself—

As a “dead man,” he certainly couldn’t wander around Taishu Palace in the middle of the night looking for a place to sleep.

Seeing Xie Bufeng standing here with perfect confidence, pretending not to understand anything—

Wen Qingci simply decided to pretend nothing had happened and give up resisting.

It was just being roommates, wasn’t it?

What was there to be afraid of.

“All right,” Wen Qingci forced himself to smile politely, “Your Majesty, please make yourself comfortable.”

With that, he immediately slipped behind the screen.

Because of this, he didn’t see the faint smile that tugged at Xie Bufeng’s lips the moment those words fell.

The carriage had been slow during the day.

But after several days of travel, Wen Qingci…despite his unease…fell asleep quickly.

Xie Bufeng, who had just rested earlier, was the complete opposite.

The wooden window was slightly open, letting in a cool summer breeze.

It thinned the faint bitterness of herbs lingering in the room.

Wen Qingci always slept quietly, never making a sound.

Even after exhausting travel, once asleep he was so still that even his breathing was hard to detect.

Now, with the herbal scent fading—

And no cicadas in the summer night—

The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Just like the hundreds of nights before.

A sudden unease rose in Xie Bufeng’s chest…

Was Wen Qingci truly here beside him?

The moment the thought surfaced, his heart thudded violently, as if ready to burst from his chest.

He had seen Wen Qingci just hours ago—

had even held him in his arms.

Yet now, Xie Bufeng couldn’t help but doubt—

Perhaps everything earlier had been a dream.

Perhaps Wen Qingci had never returned to Yongdu.

Or perhaps, after hearing those words, he had left again.

The man on the bed slowly opened his eyes.

His amber gaze looked especially cold.

Holding his breath, Xie Bufeng rose carefully and walked toward the screen.

…Moonlight slipped through the window, falling through the bed curtains onto Wen Qingci’s face.

It illuminated his skin, pale to the point of translucence.

Only after confirming it wasn’t a dream did Xie Bufeng’s heart finally settle.

* * *

By now, the Imperial Medical Bureau had long been relocated.

For nearly a year, Xie Bufeng had handled state affairs here.

Thus, the surrounding halls no longer held herbs, and all decoction tools had been moved away.

The next morning, Wen Qingci prepared the first prescription and immediately sent someone to deliver it to the new Medical Bureau.

Two hours later, a physician arrived with the decocted medicine.

By coincidence, it was someone Wen Qingci knew.

He was the one who had told Wen Qingci about Xie Bufeng and that “old acquaintance” back in Lianhe.

Seeing Wen Qingci, the young physician’s eyes widened.

He set the medicine on the table, then glanced nervously toward the servants outside before whispering, “H‑how did you get into the palace?”

When he saw the prescription earlier, he had already suspected something.

The heavy dosage and dangerous formula—

it looked exactly like the work of that colleague from Songxiu Prefecture.

Now, seeing the familiar figure and the veiled hat, countless thoughts exploded in his mind.

But in the end, he could only ask indirectly, “So… you know the inspector’s true identity now, right?”

Herbal decoction was complex. As he spoke, Wen Qingci lifted the bowl, examining the color to judge the quality.

At the question, his hand paused. “I know.”

It was the only answer he could give.

He immediately changed the subject: “Today’s decoction is slightly under‑reduced. Tomorrow, simmer it for an extra cup of tea’s time. Thank you.”

“Y‑yes, yes, I’ll remember!”

But instead of leaving, the young physician leaned closer and whispered, “Then you must know who I meant by ‘late wife,’ right?”

The story of Xie Bufeng and “Physician Wen Qingci” had spread across the entire capital.

If he said he didn’t know, no one would believe him.

With no choice, Wen Qingci deflected, “…If I recall correctly, you said that person was a man?”

He was trying to correct the term “late wife.”

But the young physician misunderstood completely.

“Yes, yes,” he nodded vigorously, lowering his voice. “You both know medicine, your builds are similar, and even your temperaments feel alike.”

Seeing Wen Qingci appear in Taishu Palace, he finally took a deep breath and said what he hadn’t dared say before:

“To be honest, I think His Majesty must see that person’s shadow in you.”

His tone rose and fell dramatically—

he was one step away from outright saying Xie Bufeng treated Wen Qingci as a substitute.

“His Majesty loved that physician more deeply than anyone,” he warned earnestly, “You must remember that.”

Wen Qingci: “…”

How was he supposed to respond to that?

Seeing him silent, the young physician grew anxious. “I’m not joking!”

“I heard that after people learned His Majesty’s beloved was a man, some young nobles tried approaching him. Not only did they fail, they nearly lost their lives—and dragged their families down with them. His Majesty already has someone in his heart. If he treats you differently, it’s only because of that physician.”

He leaned in again. “Do you understand?”

Hidden by the veil, he didn’t see Wen Qingci’s expression shift dramatically.

Afraid the man would keep rambling, Wen Qingci gritted out, “…I understand.”

“Good, good! Then I’ll return to the Medical Bureau. I’ll decoct tomorrow’s medicine as you instructed.”

With that, he fled.

The freshly brewed medicine was still steaming.

Heat seeped through the porcelain, burning Wen Qingci’s fingertips.

Only when his skin reddened did he snap out of his daze and set the bowl down.

Even then, the tips of his ears remained faintly red.

* * *

After returning to the palace, Xie Bufeng…who had been exhausted for days…finally handed the memorials back to Xie Guanzhi.

Though still ill, he had to handle numerous affairs daily.

From what Wen Qingci knew, Xie Bufeng had been working in the side hall of the Medical Bureau.

But once Wen Qingci returned, the emperor moved all his work into the bedroom.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The decocted medicine sat cooling on the table.

The faint bitterness drifted through the room like a thin ribbon.

Wen Qingci sat at the desk reading medical texts, while Xie Bufeng reviewed memorials on the bed.

Then, a suppressed cough sounded beside him.

Wen Qingci’s brush paused. He turned instinctively toward the bed.

Xie Bufeng’s hand was clenched tightly over his chest, brows furrowed—

the poison was acting up.

Wen Qingci wanted to say he had brought this upon himself, but seeing his expression, his heart tightened.

He hurried over and lifted the bowl.

“Your Majesty, the medicine has cooled. You should drink it now.”

As he spoke, he suddenly remembered something and glanced toward his medicine box.

If he wasn’t mistaken, he still had some honey left.

Wen Qingci had never drunk a single dose of medicine himself.

But he knew the herbs he prescribed were unbearably bitter—

nearly impossible to swallow.

“Wait a moment. This medicine is bitter — I’ll get something to help.”

Wen Qingci turned, intending to fetch sugar from his medicine box.

But before he could move, Xie Bufeng suddenly reached out and closed his fingers tightly around Wen Qingci’s wrist.

His body temperature was slightly high from the poison.

The moment his fingertips touched Wen Qingci’s skin, Wen Qingci’s hand trembled as if burned.

The porcelain bowl shook, rippling the surface of the medicine.

“No need,” Xie Bufeng said quietly.

And as he spoke, he lifted Wen Qingci’s wrist — and drank the entire bowl of medicine in one motion.

He didn’t even frown, as if he couldn’t taste the bitterness at all.

A few seconds passed.

Wen Qingci tugged lightly, trying to free his wrist. “Your Majesty, please let go. I need to set the bowl down.”

Xie Bufeng didn’t answer.

He simply took the bowl with his other hand and placed it on the small table piled with memorials beside the bed.

“What happened to your palm?” he asked suddenly, his expression turning serious.

My palm?

Wen Qingci froze, then followed Xie Bufeng’s gaze.

Not only his fingertips…even the skin between his thumb and forefinger was reddened.

“…The bowl was hot. I didn’t notice when I picked it up.”

For some reason, Wen Qingci’s voice had gone slightly hoarse.

Xie Bufeng said nothing.

It was unclear whether he had heard the explanation.

He simply lowered his head—

And pressed a gentle kiss to Wen Qingci’s reddened fingertips.

His movements were careful.

Almost reverent.

A faint breath brushed across Wen Qingci’s skin.

It was a kiss without any improper intent—

Yet Wen Qingci’s body trembled.

—A faint current seemed to spark at his fingertips, running through his nerves and down to his bones.

Xie Bufeng’s long hair fell forward with the motion, hiding his cold eyes.

Only after kissing each of Wen Qingci’s fingers did he finally release his wrist.

But before Wen Qingci could retreat, Xie Bufeng’s face suddenly drained of color.

His brows tightened sharply.

Wen Qingci’s prescription used heavy ingredients and all medicine carried some poison.

Not long after drinking it, Xie Bufeng’s heart seized with pain again.

“Your Majesty, how do you feel?” Wen Qingci asked quickly. “I’ll get you something for the pain.”

Xie Bufeng had never felt pain before. Wen Qingci wasn’t sure whether he experienced it like ordinary people or whether he had adapted to a world where pain existed.

“No need. It’s not serious.”

His low voice brushed past Wen Qingci’s ear.

Seeing he was still pretending, Wen Qingci’s tone cooled. “So His Majesty truly isn’t afraid of poison. In that case, I won’t hold back with the next dose.”

He had already made this one a “milder version” to avoid severe reactions.

But seeing Xie Bufeng like this…

Perhaps he should let him taste the full bitterness.

“Qingci… are you angry?”

Before Wen Qingci could react, Xie Bufeng suddenly rose and pulled him into his arms.

Even sick, he held Wen Qingci effortlessly, leaving him unable to move.

His slightly curled hair brushed Wen Qingci’s cheek.

A faint tickle followed.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Wen Qingci said stiffly, bracing a hand against Xie Bufeng’s arm, trying to push him away.

But his strength was no match for the man behind him — taller by more than a head.

His tone was sharp.

No one in court had ever spoken to Xie Bufeng like this.

Yet hearing it, Xie Bufeng only let out a soft laugh.

A storm had passed recently.

The cicadas had gone silent.

The room was utterly still.

In Wen Qingci’s ears, only Xie Bufeng’s strained breathing remained.

After a long silence, Xie Bufeng finally leaned close and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Only then did Wen Qingci realize…Xie Bufeng’s arms were trembling from the pain.

Slowly, Xie Bufeng loosened his grip, then wrapped his arms around Wen Qingci from behind.

His voice was a quiet plea: “Don’t go. Let me hold you for a while… please?”

Every word was cautious.

Then he closed his eyes.

Wen Qingci’s hand…the one pushing against Xie Bufeng’s arm…paused.

And slowly lowered.

To Xie Bufeng, the antidote wasn’t the bowl he had just swallowed.

It was the person in his arms.

His nose brushed lightly against Wen Qingci’s neck.

He took the silence as permission.

And finally, without restraint, breathed in the bitter scent he had longed for.

Several ornate, double‑canopied carriages rolled slowly into Yongdu.

The bronze bells hanging from the carriage corners swayed with each bump, chiming in crisp, pleasant notes.

Hearing the sound from afar, the common folk scattered to either side of the street.

Late‑summer heat still clung to the air, the shrill cicadas and the clamor of the alleys dragged one relentlessly back into the mortal world.

The carriages passed through the palace gates without pause. By the time Wen Qingci realized it, the familiar entrance of the Imperial Medical Bureau was already before him.

What differed from his memory was the palace road outside—now lined with guards.

“His Majesty is currently residing here. Please, this way.”

A servant set down the footstool and bowed deeply toward the carriage.

A few breaths later, pale slender fingers lifted the curtain.

After a brief pause, Wen Qingci raised his gaze past the servant, looking toward the familiar buildings in the distance.

In the late‑summer season, the century‑old magnolia stood tall in the courtyard, lush and vividly green.

The red pillars and carved beams beneath the tree exuded delicate craftsmanship.

A breeze brushed past, stirring the bird‑fright bells, ringing with a sound long engraved in his heart.

Wen Qingci drifted into a momentary daze.

…Everything reminded him that he had, in the end, returned to Yongdu.

Though he had steeled himself long ago, the moment he stepped into the palace, Song Junran couldn’t help recalling his parents… and Wen Qingci drenched in blood last year.

This palace had been tied to every nightmare he ever had.

Before the carriage even stopped, Song Junran leapt down and strode quickly toward Wen Qingci.

But a servant raised a hand, blocking his path.

Looking troubled, the servant bowed apologetically. “Forgive us. His Majesty specifically requested the veiled physician. We will escort you to another residence shortly. We ask for your understanding.”

Song Junran frowned.

At that moment, Wen Qingci stepped down from the carriage.

He turned back and said gently to his worried senior brother, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.”

His voice was soft yet steady—he had clearly made up his mind.

…His junior was easygoing most of the time, but once he decided on something, no one could stop him.

Just like when he insisted on entering the palace for revenge.

Song Junran let out a quiet sigh.

“…Fine. Then remember what I told you.” He gave Wen Qingci a few more reminders before finally following the servant away.

The carriage departed with the soft jingling of bells.

Without the carriage blocking his view, the palace road suddenly felt wide and open.

“Sir, this way—”

Seeing Song Junran leave, the waiting servant finally exhaled in relief and hurried forward to lead Wen Qingci inside.

“All right.”

The warm late‑summer breeze lifted the white veil of his hat, brushing softly past his cheek.

Like a gentle caress.

The moment he stepped through the gates of the Imperial Medical Bureau—

Wen Qingci instinctively looked up toward the plaque.

Where the wooden sign reading “Medicine Gives Life” once hung, there was now only emptiness.

Clearly, the place had indeed been repurposed, just as the rumors claimed.

Wen Qingci unconsciously held his breath.

For the first twenty years of his life, he lived solely for revenge.

Healing the sick and plotting his way into the palace had been his entire world.

After regaining his memories, he had thrown himself into fighting the plague, with no time to think of anything else.

The more mature he was in medicine,  

the more clueless he was in matters of the heart.

Only during the quiet days on the carriage back to Yongdu did he finally have time to calm down and think clearly—

His return to Yongdu was not merely to treat Xie Bufeng.

As a physician, Wen Qingci always sought the root of every illness.

Not only to save lives, but to honor every soul who had died, so none would perish without understanding.

To him, clarity was more important than anything.

Thus, the only thing he was certain of now was this: he refused to muddle through life in confusion.

At the thought, he clenched his jaw.

Avoidance solved nothing.

Wen Qingci had realized that Xie Bufeng… might be different to him.

But what exactly was this “difference”?

Twenty years of medical instinct urged him to stay clear‑headed and seek the truth.

Having died once, he understood deeply how fragile and unpredictable life was.

This time, Wen Qingci wanted to give himself a chance to understand—what exactly did he feel for Xie Bufeng?

* * *

“This palace complex used to be the Imperial Medical Bureau,” the servant explained as he led Wen Qingci inside. “So it’s divided into a front and rear courtyard… His Majesty handles state affairs in the front.”

“He’s been recuperating in the side hall recently.”

Wen Qingci nodded slowly.

Though not large, the Imperial Medical Bureau was intricately designed, unlike most of the symmetrical palace complexes.

As they walked, they reached a fork in the path.

The servant lifted his hand to point the way—

But Wen Qingci naturally turned toward the direction of the side hall.

The servant froze for a moment.

Why did it feel like this physician already knew the layout?

Before he could think further, they had reached the side hall.

The servant paused, then bowed again. “Sir, His Majesty is waiting inside. You may enter and take his pulse directly.”

“Directly upon entering?” Wen Qingci asked.

Was Xie Bufeng’s condition that serious?

The servant nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He placed his hand on the carved wooden door.

The moment his words fell, the door creaked open.

A faint incense scent mixed with heavy medicinal fragrance drifted out.

Don’t panic. It’s just a pulse check.

Wen Qingci hesitated, steadied himself, tightened his grip on the medicine box, and stepped inside.

The servant withdrew at some point, closing the carved door behind him.

Darkness swallowed the hall.

Though he had been here countless times, standing in it now, Wen Qingci felt strangely unfamiliar.

His steps faltered. Only after his eyes adjusted did he move forward again.

The empty hall echoed with his footsteps.

His heartbeat seemed to echo just as loudly.

Guided by memory, he walked deeper inside.

The dragon‑musk incense had grown stronger.

The side hall wasn’t large.

But with the doors and windows shut, each step forward dimmed his vision further.

With the veil blocking his sight, he was nearly walking blind.

He sensed a long platform ahead.

Remembering the servant’s instructions, Wen Qingci hesitated, then gathered his courage and stepped up.

Fear came from the unknown.

He had prepared himself mentally before coming.

But stripped of sight, swallowed by darkness, Wen Qingci couldn’t help tensing—fear creeping in despite himself.

At that moment, he felt something cold brush his forehead.

His nerves snapped.

“Ah—!”

He jerked violently, stumbling back down the steps.

A sharp rustling crackled beside his ears, like sudden rain.

His breath hitched uncontrollably.

Once he steadied himself, he realized he had bumped into a beaded curtain.

“…Your… Your Majesty?” he called, trying to steady his breathing.

His voice drifted through the hall, unanswered.

After a pause, he tried again. “Your Majesty, are you here?”

Silence.

Was Xie Bufeng truly unconscious?

What should he do?

With no response, Wen Qingci inhaled deeply, lifted the medicine box, and stepped forward again.

The wooden steps creaked beneath him.

The dragon‑musk grew heavier.

He climbed the steps once more, stopping near the beaded curtain. Setting the medicine box aside, he reached out to find the lamp stand.

But then—

A soft sound stirred beside his ear.

The beaded curtain was pushed aside.

Wen Qingci instinctively tried to retreat.

He bit down hard, swallowing the cry rising in his throat.

But it was too late.

The dragon‑musk surged toward him like a storm.

Before he could dodge, the supposedly bedridden emperor reached through the curtain.

Like a serpent lurking in the shadows, his fingers hooked the white veil of Wen Qingci’s hat.

Wen Qingci’s breath shattered.

His right hand clenched his sleeve.

He could only vaguely sense the cold, serpent‑like fingertips brushing the veil.

Wen Qingci shut his eyes.

After a few moments, the serpent reluctantly withdrew its caress.

Slowly, he lifted his hand and unwound the veil.

The white gauze brushed Wen Qingci’s cheek as it slid down, falling softly to the floor.

His face was completely exposed.

Long, dark lashes trembled with his uneven breaths.

His straight nose, his lightly flushed lips—

And the vermilion mark on his forehead, still as vivid as ever.

From behind the curtain, eyes accustomed to the darkness traced every line of his face with greedy precision.

The next moment, Wen Qingci’s powerless left hand was gently lifted.

Their fingers intertwined.

“—Let go, Xie Bufeng!”

Wen Qingci finally couldn’t hold back and called his name.

But before he could pull away, the man behind the curtain suddenly tugged.

Wen Qingci lost his balance and fell forward—

Straight into a cold embrace.

It happened in an instant.

A broad palm pressed firmly against his lower back, cutting off any retreat.

Their chests pressed together.

Wen Qingci not only smelled the dragon‑musk—  

through the thin layers of cloth, he could feel the rise and fall of the man’s chest, unmistakably close.

And the cold temperature of his body, paired with a heartbeat far too fast to be normal.

Everything was in disarray.

In Wen Qingci’s ears, only chaotic breathing remained.

For a moment, he couldn’t even tell whether the breaths belonged to himself or to Xie Bufeng.

Silence stretched on.

At last, as if answering him, Xie Bufeng murmured his name with unrestrained longing.

“Wen Qingci.”

“Qingci… Qingci…”

Wen Qingci’s long lashes trembled like butterfly wings.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Once his vision adjusted to the darkness, he finally saw—Xie Bufeng was seated just behind the beaded curtain.

Everything that had happened earlier… had taken place within the span of a single breath.

Xie Bufeng had watched him walk forward.

Watched him fall into his arms.

The next moment, Xie Bufeng released Wen Qingci’s left hand.

Before he could steady himself, Xie Bufeng’s arm slid beneath his knees and lifted him.

By the time Wen Qingci realized what was happening, he was already seated sideways on Xie Bufeng’s lap.

“…”

A ringing hum filled Wen Qingci’s ears.

His mind went blank.

All the plans he had made before coming here scattered instantly.

In a daze, he realized—he was nearly six years older than Xie Bufeng, yet was being held as effortlessly as a child.

Xie Bufeng’s arms were strong and steady.

…He was no longer the youth Wen Qingci had first met.

He was an adult now.

An adult with desires.

“Your Majesty, let me go!” Wen Qingci forced out through clenched teeth.

But because of the strange posture, even he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice.

As expected, Xie Bufeng didn’t obey.

No longer the boy he once was, he rested his chin lightly on Wen Qingci’s shoulder.

He shook his head, whispering near Wen Qingci’s ear, “No. If I let you go, you’ll leave.”

His low voice brushed through Wen Qingci’s chest like a strand of silk.

As he spoke, his forehead brushed past Wen Qingci’s ear.

Wen Qingci shivered.

Only then did he realize—unlike the coldness of his body, Xie Bufeng’s forehead was burning with heat.

He had a fever?

Wen Qingci’s voice softened despite himself. “Your Majesty, release me first.”

“…I returned to Yongdu to treat Your Majesty. If you don’t let go, how am I supposed to take your pulse?”

“Please rest assured—I will not… disappear without a word.” Wen Qingci said through gritted teeth.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Only after receiving the promise he wanted did Xie Bufeng reluctantly loosen his hold.

He leaned close to Wen Qingci’s ear and whispered, “All right.”

Wen Qingci exhaled in relief.

Once free, his eyes…now adjusted to the dark…glanced to the side.

He quickly moved to the candle stand and lit a flame.

The small, wavering glow wasn’t enough to illuminate the entire hall.

But it added a faint, ambiguous warmth to the room.

Even one’s thoughts seemed to sway with the candlelight.

Xie Bufeng sat on the couch and slowly lifted his wrist.

Wen Qingci hesitated, then placed his fingers on it, focusing entirely on the pulse.

He never once looked up at Xie Bufeng.

Twenty years of medical practice had carved the technique into his bones.

The moment his fingers touched the skin, his mind calmed.

Within seconds, Wen Qingci knew something was wrong.

But the pulse was so chaotic that it took him a long time to discern any pattern.

The pulse stopped and started, like a sparrow pecking grain…then shifted, restless like a shrimp darting through water.

It was a complete mess.

Wen Qingci’s brows drew together.

With his memory restored, he was not someone easily deceived.

Judging by experience, Xie Bufeng wasn’t ill…he was poisoned.

And judging from the wildly disordered pulse, it wasn’t just one poison.

Xie Bufeng had always been able to hear the darkest thoughts in people’s hearts.

Poisoning him was nearly impossible.

…Let alone poisoning him with so many different toxins.

A sudden, absurd thought flashed through Wen Qingci’s mind:

Xie Bufeng poisoned himself.

“Your Majesty is not sick. You’ve been poisoned.”

His cold voice echoed through the hall.

After a moment of silence, he finally lifted his gaze and looked directly at Xie Bufeng. “Where did the poison come from?”

His expression was grave.

He did not tolerate anyone treating their own life as a joke.

But now was not the time to dwell on that.

He forced the thought aside.

His dark eyes were like a still, icy lake.

Reflecting Xie Bufeng completely.

Faced with such eyes, Xie Bufeng could not lie.

And besides… he would never lie to Wen Qingci.

A faint smile curved his lips, and the cold amber of his eyes warmed.

“Didn’t Qingci already guess?” he said softly. “I took it myself.”

His tone was calm, as if it were nothing at all.

Wen Qingci gritted his teeth. “I’m asking where the poison came from.”

“This is not a trivial matter. To detoxify, I must know exactly what you took.”

He stood before the couch, hands hanging helplessly at his sides.

Xie Bufeng didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Wen Qingci’s waist.

Wen Qingci’s waist was slender, almost too easy to hold.

Now it was completely trapped in Xie Bufeng’s grasp.

With that motion, Xie Bufeng rested his cheek lightly against Wen Qingci’s abdomen.

He let out a quiet breath, then finally answered, “It came from what you left in the Imperial Medical Bureau.”

Wen Qingci: “…”

He froze, stunned. “Your Majesty, do you even know what those medicines are? Do you know the consequences? You are the ruler of a nation, how can you treat your own body like this!”

Xie Bufeng shook his head gently.

His dark hair brushed against Wen Qingci’s waist, sending a shiver through him—nearly making his knees weaken.

Wen Qingci braced a hand against Xie Bufeng’s shoulder, trying to push him away.

But Xie Bufeng clung to him as if rooted in place.

“Xuan Yue Pill, Red Flame Pill, Li Yun Pill…” Xie Bufeng murmured, as if answering his question. “I know. If I hadn’t once tasted your blood, I would have died countless times.”

His voice vibrated softly against Wen Qingci’s abdomen.

Wen Qingci suddenly recalled the medical text Xie Bufeng had brought to Lianhe, The Physician’s Guide to Calamity.

…During the year he was gone, Xie Bufeng had apparently read through everything he left behind.

He wasn’t ignorant.

He had done it knowingly.

Wen Qingci’s voice turned colder than ever. “Your Majesty, have you lost your mind?”

Unlike the poison “Heaven’s Mercy,” the other toxins from the Valley of Divine Medicine were not incurable.

But mixing so many together, did he not fear something irreversible?

In an instant, Wen Qingci’s mind raced through possible antidotes.

And the consequences of combining these poisons.

Xie Bufeng let out a low laugh.

From Wen Qingci’s expression, he saw worry—real, raw worry.

He knew he was unwell.

He knew something in his heart had twisted.

—And in this moment, he was asking Wen Qingci to save him.

The thick palace walls kept all sound sealed outside.

In the silence, it felt as if only the two of them existed in the world.

Seeing Xie Bufeng remain silent, Wen Qingci finally couldn’t hold back. “Your Majesty, you—”

But at that exact moment, Xie Bufeng lifted his head and pressed a finger gently to Wen Qingci’s lips, stopping his words.

“Qingci. Listen to me.”

“…My greatest regret is that before leaving for the north, and after returning to Yongdu, I didn’t tell you my heart the moment I should have.”

His gaze turned unbearably fragile.

Wen Qingci’s heart hollowed out.

The young emperor in black brocade slowly rose and pulled Wen Qingci tightly into his arms.

This embrace held no hint of desire.

“I fell for someone.”

“…For a man named Wen Qingci.”

He had said these words once as a youth.

But spoken now…by a man taller than him by more than a head, a man who could lift him effortlessly…the words carried a weight impossible to ignore.

Xie Bufeng spoke his name clearly.

Wen Qingci could no longer pretend not to understand.

After a long pause, Xie Bufeng lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Wen Qingci’s hair.

He finally stopped pretending.

He laid bare the heart that pulsed with tangled, turbulent emotions.

“I have desire for you. Greed. And even some… shameful thoughts.”

Cold fingers brushed along Wen Qingci’s slightly numb left arm.

He said, “I remembered that night in Changyuan.”

“…And afterward, I wanted to do even more excessive things to you.”

Wen Qingci’s body trembled. He instinctively turned away, trying to avoid him.

But Xie Bufeng didn’t give him the chance.

He was utterly unrestrained today. He leaned in again, his lips brushing Wen Qingci’s ear, whispering words he had never dared say before—words he once feared would frighten him, stain him.

His voice was soft as a murmur.

But the side hall was far too quiet. Every word landed clearly and heavily in Wen Qingci’s heart.

Wen Qingci tried to speak, desperate to change the subject.

But as if predicting him, Xie Bufeng covered his lips with his palm.

“Song Junran must not have told you why we were at each other’s throats that day in the courtyard.”

He let out a faint laugh, closed his eyes, and recounted everything that had happened.

In an instant, Wen Qingci’s left arm…already tingling…flared with heat, as if scorched.

Xie Bufeng… truly was a madman.

Wen Qingci’s eyes widened involuntarily.

His thoughts scattered into chaos.

When Xie Bufeng finally finished speaking, silence fell.

Only shallow breaths lingered in Wen Qingci’s ears.

After a long pause, Xie Bufeng lowered his hand.

He looked at Wen Qingci with a strange sense of relief, and at last revealed the true purpose of everything he had done today:

“So now… will you hate me?”

The faint candlelight flickered in his eyes. He looked cautious, tense.

Xie Bufeng slowly released him.

“What are you trying to achieve by telling me all this?” Wen Qingci asked, struggling to steady his breath.

Those dark eyes…usually unreadable…now clearly revealed their owner’s emotions.

Unease. Tension. Confusion.

…If Xie Bufeng wanted to force him to save him, he could have kept all of this hidden.

Why say it?

Why tell him everything?

“I only wanted you to know what kind of person you were trying to save… I’m dangerous. I have many unworthy thoughts. Unless I die, I can’t let go of my obsession.”

“I’m afraid I’ll do something you’ll despise.”

For example, marching to Songxiu Prefecture and sending troops into the mountains to find the Valley of Divine Medicine.

He feared he would truly lose control.

Feared that the cage of reason could no longer restrain the wild beast in his heart.

At that thought, a sharp pain struck Xie Bufeng’s chest.

Just imagining Wen Qingci despising him made him unbearably anxious—terrified.

Xie Bufeng met Wen Qingci’s gaze and spoke slowly, each word deliberate:

“If you hate me… if you never want to see me again… you may leave Yongdu today, even at this very moment. I won’t stop you. I won’t interfere. Once the poison takes its course and I suffer the consequences, no one will ever bind your freedom again.”

“As for everything today… just think of it as my selfishness.”

Wen Qingci’s voice was dry. “Why call it selfishness?”

Xie Bufeng’s gaze drifted northward.

“When I fought the northern tribes, I nearly died on the battlefield countless times.”

“I wasn’t afraid then. Only… regretful.”

Wen Qingci finally looked up at him.

He heard Xie Bufeng say, “Regretful that I might die without seeing you one last time. Without saying a proper farewell.”

As he spoke, the young emperor’s eyes were filled with longing.

“So if you truly despise me… if you never want to see me again…”

“Then don’t hide. And don’t disappear without a word.”

“Just today—say a proper goodbye.”

In that instant, Wen Qingci forgot how to breathe.

His body trembled uncontrollably, and his eyes reddened in an instant.

He had lived his life surrounded by death.

He had never feared it.

He thought he could face it calmly.

He thought he could accept the death of anyone—including himself.

But in this moment—

In the instant Xie Bufeng finished speaking—

Wen Qingci suddenly understood the first question of the day.

—He did not want Xie Bufeng to die.

Even after everything he said, he still did not want him to die.

“Let go of my hand!”

“Qingci’s hand, is it yours to hold?”

“In broad daylight, with so many people watching, he dared to hold Qingci’s hand and not let go. Who knows what crazy things he will do behind his back?”

Although he couldn’t hear their conversation, the scene of Xie Bufeng holding Wen Qingci on the bed once again intruded into Song Junran’s mind.

Thinking of this, he wished he could grind his teeth to dust.

Every word Song Junran thought was clearly heard by Xie Bufeng.

But the other party still didn’t let go.

Xie Bufeng’s fingers were long, strong, and as firm as cast iron, effortlessly restraining Wen Qingci’s hands with one hand.

The young emperor, dressed in black, slowly raised his other hand, brushing it over the veil hanging from the hat.

His movements were extremely gentle, cautious.

As if caressing Wen Qingci’s cheek through the veil, filled with endless longing.

Wen Qingci couldn’t help but hold his breath.

The two were so close that Wen Qingci couldn’t see Xie Bufeng’s face, only his black robe and broad shoulders, and hear his shallow breathing.

The dragon musk on the fabric was like a fine chain.

Binding the two together tightly.

Xie Bufeng chuckled softly.

His slender fingers suddenly stopped in front of Wen Qingci’s eyes, as if about to pull away the white veil.

And the person under the veil instinctively closed his eyes at that moment.

…Was Xie Bufeng planning to expose his disguise at this moment?

Wen Qingci’s heart felt like it was being tightly gripped, making it difficult and heavy to beat.

His hands and feet were cold at this moment.

However, what Wen Qingci feared did not happen.

Xie Bufeng’s fingers reluctantly brushed past the veil.

After a pause, he finally turned to the crowd and said, “No need for formalities, rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty—”

Phew…

Under the veil, Wen Qingci slowly exhaled.

The thin veil fluttered gently with his uneven breathing.

Wen Qingci’s heart finally pumped blood forcefully to his limbs again.

Song Junran clenched his fists and stood up.

Standing beside Wen Qingci, he had seen the whole scene just now, and his face was already livid.

“If you don’t leave now, you’ll be in danger of falling into the tiger’s mouth.”

“Tonight, no matter how heavy the rain, we can’t delay!”

Just as he thought of this, a chilling killing intent suddenly arose behind Song Junran.

The storm was approaching, and the air in Lianhe was hot and humid to the extreme.

But… in that instant, Song Junran felt as if he had returned to winter.

He instinctively looked to his side, only to see Xie Bufeng slowly turning around, walking away.

…Was that an illusion just now?

“I never knew the governor was interested in sulfur.”

Xie Bufeng’s tone was so casual, it was impossible to discern his emotions.

—Just now, Xie Bufeng had already heard the governor’s intentions from the hearts of the surrounding people.

The governor of Heliang was still kneeling on the ground, not daring to get up. Hearing Xie Bufeng’s words, he trembled like a sieve.

Although he was not in Yongdu, he had heard many rumors about Xie Bufeng…

After ascending the throne, this young emperor had swiftly cleared the court of stubborn forces, consolidating power.

His methods of dealing with the deposed emperor and the Hengxin Guard were particularly ruthless.

The governor’s son was already lying in a pool of blood.

Xie Bufeng frowned in extreme disgust.

Then he suddenly chuckled lightly, “Since that’s the case, I should fulfill the governor’s wish. Let the governor and his son make a good contribution.”

“I, I dare not, I dare not…” The governor of Heliang couldn’t even form a complete sentence.

“Guards—”

As Xie Bufeng’s words fell, the guards stepped forward and knelt.

“Take the governor of Heliang and his son to the open ground outside Lianhe County,” Xie Bufeng said with a faint smile, “Since they like it, let them enjoy the same treatment as the pests outside the city.”

“The fumigation for the next few days will be entirely up to them.”

Xie Bufeng’s tone was not cold, but after his words fell, the governor of Heliang collapsed completely.

As for his son, he was already sitting there in a daze, clearly scared out of his wits by Xie Bufeng.

—Although no one had used sulfur fumigation to kill rats before, everyone knew that prolonged close contact and inhalation of sulfur gas would be highly toxic.

Previous sulfur fumigations were carried out by the people of Lianhe in shifts. After setting up the materials, they would stay away from the open ground, and each time they would cover their noses and mouths with thick white gauze.

But this time, Xie Bufeng wanted the governor of Heliang and his son to enjoy the same treatment as the pests.

As soon as his words fell, the distant people couldn’t help but cheer.

The sound of “Long live the emperor” echoed endlessly throughout Lianhe, making the rain outside the city seem even louder.

—At this moment, they were more excited than anyone else.

The emperor’s reputation had already reached this small town.

However, the people of Lianhe, far from the emperor, never dreamed that one day the emperor would appear here in person to handle the plague!

The distant mountains had long been shrouded in mist, and the sky was getting darker.

The strong wind carried the rain-filled clouds towards Lianhe.

The sound of “Long live the emperor” was deafening.

Xie Bufeng’s thoughts were inadvertently pulled back to the northern lands a few years ago.

Amidst the cheers, he rewarded all the imperial physicians on this trip, and the county magistrate of Lianhe was promoted two ranks and transferred to Yongting Prefecture.

For a moment, the people’s morale was greatly boosted.

…Xie Bufeng had been on the throne for more than a year, but today was the first time Wen Qingci had witnessed how he wielded his power up close.

Xie Bufeng stood facing south, the majesty and anger of the emperor had long been integrated into his blood and bones.

He was the sole master of everyone’s fate in the world.

The storm finally swept through the small town.

The people on the open ground reluctantly returned home.

In the blink of an eye, only a hundred or so people remained.

The young emperor in black looked up at the sky, then slowly turned and walked to Wen Qingci’s side, saying softly, “You should go back to your residence and rest well today.”

Before the other could react, he turned and instructed the attendants to take good care of Wen Qingci and Song Junran, then mounted his horse.

“To the outskirts of the city, to handle the grain.”

“Yes!”

All the grain in Lianhe had been destroyed.

The people were eating grain transported from nearby prefectures.

Lianhe did not have large granaries, so the grain for the past few days had been stored directly in courtyards.

Today’s rain looked heavy.

They had to find suitable houses to store the grain properly before the storm soaked it.

To ensure that the newly transported grain did not spoil or attract pests again.

—Xie Bufeng had come to Lianhe with only a few guards.

Although they were very obedient to the emperor, they lacked experience in this area.

To ensure there were no problems with Lianhe’s grain, Xie Bufeng chose to handle it personally, as he would in the army.

“Take care? You mean to say guard, don’t you?”

Hearing his words, Song Junran thought with slight disdain.

…He had practiced hidden weapons and light skills for many years. Although his martial arts were not very strong, avoiding these people was more than enough.

Unless Xie Bufeng himself stood outside the house, no one could trap them.

As he turned to walk into the courtyard, Wen Qingci did not see Xie Bufeng suddenly tighten his grip on the reins.

At the same time, he pressed his thin lips together and looked deeply at his back.

Xie Bufeng’s heart was not as calm as he appeared.

The storm that swept through Lianhe also pierced his heart at that moment.

The wind and rain cut like blades on his heart.

Xie Bufeng slowly closed his eyes.

“Hyah—”

He whipped his horse and charged into the rain.

The heavy rain poured down, the cold raindrops like tiny stones constantly hitting Xie Bufeng.

Impenetrable.

The cold instantly pulled his memory back to that year.

…Back then, after parting on the Yin River Grand Canal, Xie Bufeng also braved such heavy rain, crossing half of Wei Chao to the northern lands.

Although he had not yet left, the time spent in Lianhe suddenly felt more distant than a dream.

Xie Bufeng knew that when he returned to the courtyard, Song Junran would definitely try to take Wen Qingci away.

He was deliberately betting this time.

“Please don’t go…”

The rain poured down like the Milky Way, drowning Xie Bufeng’s voice.

His tone was like a plea.

If Wen Qingci didn’t leave this time, he swore to disguise himself for a lifetime by his side.

To blend in with the majority of people in this world.

Even if it meant retracting his claws, dulling his teeth, transforming from a lion to a dog, as long as Wen Qingci stayed by his side, Xie Bufeng was willing.

He could even learn to be gentle and courteous, becoming whatever Wen Qing liked.

Not only will it never scare him again.

He even treated his senior brother as a guest of honor.

But if Wen Qingci really left…

Thinking of this, Xie Bufeng suddenly opened his eyes.

The amber eyes slowly narrowed, and his gaze fell into the rain and fog.

Like a sharp sword, it cut through the rain curtain in an instant.

He will never let go again.

He even wanted Wen Qingci to fall in love with his true self.

A true self who is no longer pretending.

A smile suddenly appeared on Xie Bufeng’s lips.

When he left the county yamen office just now, he did not say “goodbye” to Wen Qingci.

Because Xie Bufeng knew that they would never be separated again in the future——

Inside the Lianhe County Office.

“Let’s go!” Song Junran pushed Wen Qingci back into the house, then turned around and closed the door tightly.

The emperor went on a private tour to Lianhe this time and did not bring many people with him.

But the damn Heliang County Magistrate just now brought a bunch of servants with him!

Xie Bufeng did not take them to the outskirts of the city, but instead asked them to stay here.

The county government office was not very big to begin with, and now it was completely packed with people.

“How to get there?” Wen Qingci asked subconsciously.

As if answering his question, Wen Qingci’s voice had just fallen when a “creak” sound came from behind him.

Song Junran pushed open the window at the back of the cabin.

Then he turned around and said to Wen Qingci quickly, “Although there are many servants outside, their martial arts skills are only mediocre. First, use Qinggong to leave the house, and then go to the people in the suburbs to buy a raincoat for a fast horse. Just grit your teeth and bear it, and we will reach Yongting tonight.”

Thinking of his junior brother’s physical condition, Song Junran couldn’t help but hesitate.

But the hesitation only lasted for a few seconds before he threw it out of his mind.

——He can’t be entangled with him anymore. If he continue to be entangled with him, who knows what Xie Bufeng will do to Wen Qingci!

“But……”

Wen Qingci’s heart was in chaos.

Countless thoughts swirled in his mind, but in the blink of an eye they became a tangled mess.

He instinctively wanted to reject Song Junran.

But reason told me that it was right to stay away from Xie Bufeng and treat the person he met in Lianhe this time as just an ordinary inspector.

The Lianhe incident was just a small episode in life.

It’s time to get back on track and return to the valley.

“No buts.”

Song Junran sighed softly, he turned around and looked deeply at Wen Qingci: “…The thing that Father regrets most in his life is getting involved in the affairs of Yongdu. Qingci, you have to know…no matter how famous the name of ‘Valley of Divine Physicians’ is, we are just wandering physicians. We never belong to the same world as those nobles in Yongdu.”

“I know you may feel a little sorry for him. But you have to remember that when you met Xie Bufeng, he was just the unpopular eldest prince, but now he… I’m afraid he is no longer the same as before.” Song Junran said, almost gritting his teeth.

“His Majesty the Emperor controls the world, and no one in the world is qualified to pity him.”

Song Junran and Wen Qingci have known each other since childhood, and Song Junran knows his fellow apprentice well.

He saw the confusion in Wen Qingci’s eyes and guessed what Wen Qingci was thinking.

The strong wind brought heavy rain into the house.

But in the blink of an eye, the hems of their clothes were wet.

The long-lost chill seeped into the skin.

…Is his feeling towards Xie Bufeng “pitiful”?

The image of the young man kneeling alone in the snow appeared in Wen Qingci’s mind again.

He thought himself pitiful for not being able to meet Xie Bufeng earlier.

But that feeling…is it just pity?

The heavy rain forced Wen Qingqi to think about this question that he had never thought about before.

The next moment, Wen Qingci’s heart suddenly felt empty.

“…I know.” He muttered to himself.

Under the cover of the heavy rain outside the window, Song Junran couldn’t help but raise his voice a few notches: “…Besides, besides, the way he has been acting recently is actually all fake, can’t you see that?”

“Qingci, you’ve never even seen his true nature.”

“…… Aren’t you afraid that all of this, is just YegongTranslator's Note:This refers to the fact that the ancient man Ye Gong was famous for his love of dragons, but when the real dragon came down to his house, he was so scared that his face became colorless. It is a metaphor for the discrepancy between what is on the surface and what is on the inside, and there is no reality in the name..”

No, Xie Bufeng’s kindness to the people these days was not fake—Wen Qingci instinctively wanted to refute.

But before he opened his mouth, he suddenly remembered that Xie Bufeng and his senior brother had acted a little strange since he woke up from his coma last time.

There were even fragments of porcelain bowls in the room.

Combined with what Brother just said…he seems to know something?

Wen Qingci couldn’t help but feel scared for a moment.

Before his senior brother said this, he almost forgot how dangerous Xie Bufeng was.

If Xie Bufeng reveals his true nature one day, will he still be able to get along well with him?

Is he really like Ye Gong who loves dragons as Song Junran said?

Wen Qingci didn’t know.

…He hasn’t had enough time to think this problem through.

“Okay, there’s no time—” Without waiting for Wen Qingci to figure it out, Song Junran immediately dragged his fellow apprentice out of the window.

Although his other martial arts except for hidden weapons and light skills are average, he is much stronger than Wen Qingci after all.

Song Junran pulled Wen Qingci out without much effort.

The heavy rain washed away Wen Qingci’s chaotic thoughts and forced him to calm down.

There were no servants guarding the backyard, and the rainy night masked all sounds.

Before anyone could react, two pale figures, like stars, flew over the roof and headed towards the other side of Lianhe.

The two men went all the way out of the city and spent a lot of money to buy a straw raincoat and a low-quality horse from a farmer’s house on the edge of Lianhe.

Then he continued to walk through the mountains and forests, heading towards Yongting Prefecture in the dark.

Little by little, they left the town where Xie Bufeng was.

…

At the hour of ChouTranslator's Note:from 1 to 3 a.m., Xie Bufeng and his group finally arranged for food and fodder and returned to the county government office.

The rainstorm has not stopped yet, as if someone has poked a hole in the sky.

Xie Bufeng dismounted from his horse, ignored the servants who were saluting him in the yard, and walked quickly into the room.

The black clothes had already been completely soaked by the heavy rain and were tightly wrapped around Xie Bufeng’s body.

He walked quickly to the eaves, then suddenly stopped and slowly raised his hand.

——Through the window, you can see that the room is dark and there is no light.

Xie Bufeng took a deep breath.

Maybe… Wen Qingci just fell asleep.

It was already midnight, and it would be unusual if the lights were on in his room.

The cold raindrops slid across Xie Bufeng’s cheeks and hit the mud under the eaves.

He finally mustered up the courage and lowered his hand.

“Knock knock.”

The gentle knock on the door was swallowed up by the heavy rain.

“…Wen Qingci?” Xie Bufeng couldn’t help holding his breath, waiting for a response, “Qingci, have you rested?”

There was endless tenderness in his tone.

The room was silent.

Xie Bufeng’s heart also calmed down a little bit.

After pausing for a few seconds, he couldn’t help but increase the intensity of his hand movements.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The knocking on the door grew louder and louder.

Waves of sound echoed in the rainy night.

Even the entire door frame began to shake with Xie Bufeng’s movements.

No one in the room responded.

And the expectations in his heart were extinguished along with the silence at this moment.

Xie Bufeng slowly lowered his eyes and smiled, murmuring over and over again: “I knew it, I knew it…”

Song Junran tricked Wen Qingci away again.

But this time, Xie Bufeng was well prepared.

The muscles in his arms suddenly tensed up, and with a loud bang, the already rotten wooden door could no longer hold on and opened completely.

“Really.”

The room was empty, there was nothing in it.

But Xie Bufeng was not angry. He suddenly lowered his head and laughed softly in the quiet and empty room.

“Qingci, I have tried my best.”

I have tried my best to hide my claws and disguise myself as you like.

But I seem to have failed.

The only audience member has left, and there is no need to continue the play.

“…see you in a few days.”

The crazy magma in Xie Bufeng’s heart did not cool down or disappear despite him gritting his teeth to suppress it day after day.

Instead, they are piled up in one place, waiting for the moment of eruption.

At this time, the volcano was rumbling, and the magma was surging towards the mountain pass.

Xie Bufeng looked around and quickly walked out of the room.

“Someone——”

A row of attendants dressed in black knelt before him.

Xie Bufeng looked up at the rain curtain, closed his eyes, and said heavily, “My old illness has relapsed, and the imperial physicians are at a loss. Unfortunately, the Physician has already left without saying goodbye, leaving this place overnight.”

“…I need you to ‘invite’ them back.” Xie Bufeng’s voice was as light as a whisper.

Dressed in black, Xie Bufeng blended into the night.

His voice was shattered by the rain, becoming indistinct.

It was hard to discern his emotions.

The emperor is ill?!

But… but wasn’t he just fine?

The attendants couldn’t help but steal a glance at Xie Bufeng.

Just then, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, and in the cold light, the attendant saw a hint of blood on Xie Bufeng’s lips…

There was no time to ponder Xie Bufeng’s words further. The attendants immediately kowtowed and hurriedly gathered their men to head out of the city.

However, just as they were about to leave the courtyard, Xie Bufeng suddenly spoke again, “Once you find them, don’t rush. Make sure to take good care of the Physician.”

“Remember to be polite, do not force him,” he said.

Do not force him?

What if he refuses to come?

Despite their doubts, the attendants immediately obeyed and kept Xie Bufeng’s words in mind: “Yes, Your Majesty!”

The sound of hooves drowned out the heavy rain, waking Lianhe from his sleep.

The attendants did not dare to slack off and immediately began searching along the way.

At the same time, a few others braved the rain to the county magistrate’s private residence to fetch the imperial physician who was temporarily staying there.

*

Xie Bufeng slowly walked back to his room.

He had not rested for almost a day, and the fatigue hit him like a mountain.

But Xie Bufeng did not rest immediately.

He took a small wooden box from the wardrobe.

This box, like the “Xinglin Jie’e,” was brought by Xie Bufeng from Yongdu.

His fingers gently stroked the surface of the box.

After a few seconds, Xie Bufeng opened it.

If Wen Qingci were here, he would recognize that the box contained old items he had left at the Yongdu Imperial Medical Bureau when he faked his death.

Most were prepared prescriptions.

Reviving the yang, promoting blood circulation, calming the mind.

Though few in number, the variety was complete.

These were likely made during his boredom while being confined at the Imperial Medical Bureau.

There were also a few pills.

Wen Qingci did not like pills, so there were not many left.

Xie Bufeng casually poured out a few and examined them closely.

On the day of the Fengshan ceremony, he was poisoned by a sword, and it was Wen Qingci’s blood that saved him.

That day, Wen Qingci almost drained his blood.

So even now, Xie Bufeng’s constitution remained special.

Although he was not immune to all poisons, ordinary poisons would not take his life quickly.

Over the past year, Xie Bufeng had read Wen Qingci’s books over and over again.

Although he did not understand medical principles, he recognized the names of these pills.

Without exception, they were all poisonous.

There were no candles lit in the room, only a bit of moonlight struggling to penetrate the clouds and rain, illuminating the room.

Without hesitation, Xie Bufeng poured all the pills into his mouth.

He swallowed them with the cold tea on the table.

The bitterness spread in Xie Bufeng’s throat in an instant.

But sitting alone, he smiled softly.

His eyes were full of anticipation.

“…Come back and save me, will you?” he whispered.

Xie Bufeng’s voice echoed lonely in the room.

You see, I didn’t lie to you, I am really sick.

—he said softly in his heart—

Before dawn, Wen Qingci and Song Junran had already arrived at Yongting Prefecture.

But this time, they did not stay in the city’s medical hall as usual. Instead, they went directly past Yongting Prefecture to a nearby small town called “Futao.”

Only then did Song Junran feel slightly relieved and temporarily settled in an inconspicuous inn with his junior brother.

They left in a hurry, bringing nothing but a medicine box and some silver.

After settling Wen Qingci, Song Junran immediately went out to buy supplies.

By this time, it was already the evening of the next day.

Summer rain storms come and go quickly.

Apart from the faint traces of water on the bluestone slabs of the street, there was no sign of the heavy rain.

Futao was small, with only a few streets.

Song Junran bought a few clean clothes and returned to the inn without delay.

Although he had a raincoat, Wen Qingci’s clothes were still mostly wet.

After a night of travel, his head was a bit dizzy and numb.

Wen Qingci took a hot bath in the inn, changed his clothes, and fell into a deep sleep.

He did not know how long he slept.

In his dream, he returned to Yongdu.

Sometimes he saw the young Xie Bufeng being pressed down by guards, waiting for him to feed him medicine.

Sometimes he saw him riding a warhorse, accompanied by cheers, passing through the streets of Northern Di Changyuan Town, heading towards the Gobi Desert.

Then he saw the red marks on his own arm…

The dream was chaotic.

…

“What do you want to do—”

“I have booked this entire floor, how can there be uninvited guests?”

“…Officials? Oh, so officials can be unreasonable?”

Song Junran’s voice penetrated the wooden door, faintly reaching Wen Qingci’s ears.

At first, Wen Qingci thought he was still dreaming, but as he struggled to open his eyes, the voice became clearer.

“I’ll say it again, there’s no one you’re looking for here.” Song Junran’s tone was already impatient, as if he was starting to drive people away.

Who is the Senior Brother talking to?

Wen Qingci thought groggily.

He struggled to open his eyes and looked out through the gap in the bed curtain.

There were several unfamiliar figures reflected on the flower window.

The light outside was somewhat dazzling.

…It seemed he had slept through the night, and it was now the next morning.

Hesitating for a moment, Wen Qingci slowly got up, changed his clothes, and put on the veil hat that was placed by the bed.

More and more people gathered outside the door, judging by the shadows, there seemed to be more than a dozen.

After checking other places, the officers all gathered here, where the door had not been opened.

Song Junran was still arguing loudly with them.

…Senior Brother never speaks so loudly.

What happened today?

Wen Qingci paused and immediately realized that the people outside were here for him!

Song Junran was speaking so loudly to wake him up.

At this moment, he was fully awake.

Wen Qingci immediately turned and walked towards the window.

As soon as he pushed open the wooden window, he found that the street was already full of guards, making it difficult for even a fly to escape.

This formation was too large.

Wen Qingci’s heart suddenly tightened.

“…We are just following orders, please cooperate.” The voice outside the door was already somewhat impatient.

After the words fell, he directly gestured to the shopkeeper, “No need to say more, just open the door.”

“Yes, yes…”

Then, there was a crisp sound of metal clashing outside the door.

It should be the shopkeeper looking for the key.

At this moment, footsteps finally sounded in the room.

Forget it, life and death are fated.

Wen Qingci took a deep breath and simply said, “No need to trouble yourself.”

Leaving in a hurry, Wen Qingci remembered halfway: Xie Bufeng could hear the evil thoughts in people’s hearts…

No need to guess, the Senior Brother must have a bad impression of Xie Bufeng.

Song Junran had long been planning to escape, and Xie Bufeng might have heard all the plans from his heart and knew where they planned to stay.

As a Emperor, it would be easy for him to find two people.

Wen Qingci’s voice was clear but slightly hoarse.

Before the people outside the guest room could react, the door was slowly pushed open from the inside.

A figure dressed in white, wearing a veiled hat, appeared before them.

The people outside were stunned.

…This person’s attire seems to match the description?

Why did the junior brother come out!

Song Junran instantly clenched his sleeves, his face turning extremely ugly.

It’s okay, it’s okay…

He repeatedly told himself that this group of attendants had very average martial arts skills. Although they had found this place, with just their lightness skills, he and his junior brother could escape them.

At this moment, an attendant dressed in dark blue, carrying a long knife, suddenly walked quickly from the other side of the corridor.

His footsteps sounded somewhat flustered.

Unlike the local officials and soldiers of Futao, this person was one of the attendants who had traveled from Yongdu to Lianhe with Xie Bufeng.

After spending so many days together, he recognized the two at a glance.

The newcomer was stunned for a moment, then suddenly stepped forward quickly, knelt down with a thud, and said in a trembling voice, “Gentlemen, I have been looking for you for a long time!”

Before the other party could react, he immediately gritted his teeth and raised his head, saying with difficulty, “To be honest, His Majesty… His Majesty’s old illness has relapsed, and the situation is probably not good.”

Xie Bufeng, old illness? He looks ten thousand times healthier than my junior brother!

He can’t even come up with a good excuse.

“Huh?” After hearing his words, Song Junran immediately sneered, “Don’t lie to me, I can tell…”

However, before he could finish his sentence, Wen Qingci interrupted him, “What happened to His Majesty?”

Wen Qingci’s heart suddenly tightened.

The left hand that had just been raised to the door frame fell heavily at this moment.

He saw that the tension on the attendant’s face was not feigned.

Seeing Wen Qingci ask, the attendant recalled his colleague’s description and said, “His Majesty suddenly vomited blood at night. The imperial physicians in the palace have no solution. His Majesty said his illness… can only be cured by you.”

Worried that Wen Qingci would refuse, he couldn’t help but add, “A servant saw it with his own eyes! There was black and red blood coming out of His Majesty’s lips.”

After speaking, the attendant carefully raised his eyes and looked at Wen Qingci.

The slightly trembling veil revealed the owner’s mood.

His mood didn’t seem to be relaxed either.

“So the emperor asked you to bring him back?” Song Junran, who thought he had seen through Xie Bufeng’s tricks, sneered, “Pretending to be sick, playing the victim? When did His Majesty start using such lowly tactics?”

Unexpectedly, the attendant’s answer was different from what Song Junran had imagined.

“No,” he gritted his teeth and answered truthfully, “His Majesty said not to force him.”

Song Junran was choked back: “…Fine.” He admitted defeat.

While the two were debating the truth, Wen Qingci spoke again:

“Besides vomiting blood, what other symptoms are there?”

“Did the imperial physicians take his pulse? If so, what did they say?”

“What is His Majesty’s current condition? Is he still in Lianhe?”

Wen Qingci’s tone was somewhat anxious, asking many questions in one breath. However, after hearing his words, the attendant looked confused.

After thinking for a moment, the other party could only shake his head truthfully: “I did not inquire about these.”

“…I only know that His Majesty is seriously ill, and there is no medicine in Lianhe that can help. Therefore, he has returned to Yongdu for treatment.”

Lianhe is just a small county surrounded by mountains, with only the most basic and common herbs in the city, mostly for treating the plague, which cannot alleviate Xie Bufeng’s symptoms at all.

The plague had just subsided, and it was unclear if there were any residual infections.

Moreover, Xie Bufeng’s identity had already been exposed, making it too dangerous to stay there.

After some deliberation, everyone had followed the imperial physician’s suggestion and left the place early, rushing back to Yongdu.

After speaking, the attendant gritted his teeth and kowtowed heavily three times to Wen Qingci: “I hope you won’t make things difficult for us, Sir.”

His voice was extremely difficult.

In the eyes of these attendants, vomiting blood was a serious illness.

The emperor coughing up blood should shock the court.

After the incident in Lianhe, they naturally respected Wen Qingci.

And the emperor did indeed instruct “not to force him.”

But in comparison, the emperor’s health was obviously the most important.

…If the Physician refused, they would have to resort to force.

In short, no matter what, they had to bring the Physician to Yongdu!

Wen Qingci and Song Junran both saw his intentions.

The two exchanged a glance.

After a moment, Song Junran coldly said:

“We kindly went to Lianhe to help the court solve the plague, but you people from Yongdu repay kindness with enmity?”

“Pretending to be sick, Only he can come up with that.”

His words were full of sarcasm.

The guard remained silent.

For a moment, the inn was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

“Good.”

In the silence, this sound was particularly abrupt.

“W-what?” The attendant was stunned for a moment, thinking he had misheard, and looked up dumbfounded.

Wen Qingci, who had unknowingly clenched his fist, no longer wore the white veil after leaving Lianhe, and his voice was no longer as muffled as before: “We will go back to Yongdu with you.”

“Junior brother! Are you crazy?” Song Junran’s eyes widened instantly.

Wen Qingci lowered his eyes and said softly, “He has never lied to me.”

“But—”

Wen Qingci gently shook his head, lowered his voice, and said in a volume only Song Junran could hear: “Don’t worry, senior brother, if Xie Bufeng is not sick and this is all a scam, I will leave the palace immediately, not staying a moment longer.”

His voice was still clear and gentle.

But Song Junran could hear that his junior brother’s tone was firm, definitely not joking.

“…Fine,” thinking of this, Song Junran was no longer anxious, “I will go to Yongdu with you.”

Wen Qingci always responded better to gentleness than force.

The more he tried to stop him, the more he wouldn’t listen.

Song Junran was convinced that Xie Bufeng was definitely pretending.

Once his junior brother took his pulse, he would understand this person’s deceitful nature.

The lightness skills of the Valley of Divine Physicians were not just for show.

If Wen Qingci couldn’t escape from the Tai Shu Palace, he would find a way to get him out!

The carriage traveled along the official road, heading north.

Inside the carriage, Wen Qingci couldn’t help but lower his eyes and grip the medicine box tightly.

Outside the carriage, an attendant rode a fast horse, heading towards Yongdu ahead of the carriage.

…

A few days later, in Yongdu.

The dark blue-clad attendant knelt at the long steps beside the Imperial Physician’s Bureau, covered in dust.

The wind blew through the beaded curtain, making a crackling sound.

The emperor, dressed in black, was hidden behind the swaying beaded curtain and the smoke from the incense burner.

The hall was filled with the bitter scent of medicinal herbs.

The attendant kneeling below could only see a vague dark figure.

“What else did the Physician say?”

The low voice echoed repeatedly in the empty hall.

Xie Bufeng’s tone was calm, but each pause was full of pressure.

The attendant’s clothes were unknowingly soaked with cold sweat.

Kneeling on one knee, his knees were trembling, almost collapsing to the ground.

The attendant racked his brains: “He… he didn’t say much, but… upon hearing that you were ill, he seemed a bit panicked.”

After speaking, realizing that he was answering off-topic, he subconsciously wanted to slap himself.

Unexpectedly, the beaded curtain crackled again.

—The emperor hidden in the smoke suddenly sat up straight.

“How flustered?” Xie Bufeng’s tone suddenly became urgent, “What did he say? How do you know he was panicking?”

Huh?

The attendant was stunned for a moment, half scared out of his wits by Xie Bufeng, and stammered, “He… his hand was originally on the door frame, but after hearing that you were ill, it suddenly fell heavily.”

In a life-and-death moment, the memory from a few days ago became clear.

The attendant continued, “He kept asking about your Majesty’s symptoms and whether the imperial physicians had diagnosed your Majesty.”

…Wen Qingci was always gentle, calm, and composed.

But he actually panicked because of him?

Xie Bufeng couldn’t believe it for a moment: “Is this true?”

“True!”

“…Good, good.”

Xie Bufeng, like a drowning man, grabbed the last straw.

Wen Qingci cared about him.

Xie Bufeng’s heart, numbed by waiting, came alive again at this moment.

“How did he ask about the symptoms?”

The attendant’s neatly trimmed nails dug deeply into his palm.

He answered while trying to recall.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

Xie Bufeng suddenly started coughing at this moment. Although he wouldn’t easily be killed by poison, after a few days, the drug had gradually taken effect.

A thin stream of blood flowed out from Xie Bufeng’s lips.

The attendant stopped immediately.

“Go on.” Xie Bufeng just casually wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with his finger.

“Yes, yes…”

The pain in his chest and lungs hasn’t gone away yet.

As the servant described, Xie Bufeng slowly closed his eyes and laughed.

Although separated by thousands of miles of mountains and rivers.

But he seemed to have smelled the bitter fragrance at this moment.

The children who recovered from their illness finally left home.

The plague was subsiding, if not for the faint smell of sulfur in the air and the soul-recalling banners at the street corners.

Even those who lived through it might momentarily forget that this place was recently a hell on earth.

A black warhorse, escorting grain, trotted down the long street.

An arrow flew past the horse, startling it into a neigh.

The street fell silent.

The rider gently pulled the reins, lowering his gaze to the child standing frozen in the distance.

The woman beside the child turned pale, shaking the child’s shoulder and whispering, “Why are you shooting arrows here? Quick! Apologize to the Inspector!”

“Y-yes…” The child was completely terrified.

Xie Bufeng’s gaze slowly swept across the street.

On either side of the street, five or six children stood, each holding an arrow, with a palm-sized target on the haystack.

They seemed to be competing.

Realizing they had inadvertently disturbed an important person, the children stood motionless, frozen in place.

At that moment, Xie Bufeng dismounted from his horse.

Having come from the battlefield, he carried an aura of menace.

It’s over, we’re doomed…

In the midst of despair, Xie Bufeng’s voice suddenly sounded gently in their ears, “Give me the bow.”

“Huh? Oh, okay!” The child, stunned, handed over the bow.

Before he could react, Xie Bufeng spun the wooden bow in his hand, and with a whoosh, a silver arrow shot out like a meteor.

The haystack with the target was instantly shaken apart by the force.

In the blink of an eye, the arrow deeply embedded itself in the target.

The target, made of tough grass, was split into four pieces.

“Here you go.” Xie Bufeng raised an eyebrow slightly, handing the arrow back to the child.

The crowd on the street was stunned for a moment, then erupted into deafening cheers.

“Inspector! Inspector!”

“Your Excellency is so heroic!!!”

…So, the Inspector wasn’t angry?

“Sir!” The child, stunned, suddenly remembered something and ran forward, raising his hand, “This, this is for you…”

In his hand was a small stone bead—the prize for the competition.

The bead was not valuable, simply polished.

After extending his hand, he regretted it… Would the officer disdain this prize?

To his surprise, Xie Bufeng solemnly accepted it, then rode off, holding it in his hand.

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

The surrounding people became even more excited, their cheers louder than before.

The words “Inspector” echoed throughout Lianhe.

Each word was filled with respect, gratitude, and admiration for Xie Bufeng.

In the distance, Wen Qingci, busy in the open space, turned to look at the longstreet upon hearing the cheers.

The scorching sun shone from behind, and at that moment, Xie Bufeng overlapped with the image of him in Wen Qingci’s memory from the north…

His heartbeat quickened with the deafening cheers.

Before Wen Qingci could react, the black warhorse stopped beside him.

Xie Bufeng dismounted with one hand, slowly opened his palm, and carefully placed the stone bead in Wen Qingci’s hand.

In Wei Dynasty, giving someone the prize symbolized sharing honor and disgrace.

The imperial physician beside Wen Qingci widened his eyes in surprise.

At that moment, Wen Qingci saw a hint of expectation and deep-seated anxiety in Xie Bufeng’s amber eyes…

Xie Bufeng’s words from years ago suddenly echoed in Wen Qingci’s ears.

“If I fall in love with a man, what should I do?”

Wen Qingci’s ears buzzed.

*

The plague in Lianhe was subsiding, but to solve it at its root, reforestation was needed.

Xie Bufeng was busy with this every day, traveling between the towns and forests around Lianhe.

He appeared entirely dedicated to the people.

The local people had never seen such a diligent and responsible Inspector.

Seeing Xie Bufeng busy every day, they wished to build a shrine for him and Wen Qingci to express their admiration.

…Xie Bufeng’s initial reason for doing these things was simple, he just treated this place as Shan Yu Stream.

“This fan is beautiful,” the imperial physician, now familiar with Wen Qingci, said as he picked up the folding fan on the table, “The fan is actually made of silk! Is this made in Yongting Prefecture?”

The fan surface was embroidered with green bamboo, shining faintly in the sunlight.

Wen Qingci answered honestly, “I don’t really know.”

“…Don’t know?” The physician’s expression became strange, as if the fan had become heavy.

After a moment of silence, he cautiously asked, “This fan… was it a gift from the inspector?”

Wen Qingci: “…”

It really was.

Recently, Xie Bufeng had been traveling to nearby prefectures, bringing things back for Wen Qingci every day.

He seemed to be patiently waiting for Wen Qingci to take off his veil voluntarily.

Seeing Wen Qingci not answering, the physician realized his guess was correct…

What to do now!

After spending some time together, the physician noticed a familiar feeling in Wen Qingci, reminiscent of the deceased “one.”

It seemed the emperor felt the same.

…He really seemed to have developed some affection for this physician from Songxiu Prefecture.

The story of Xie Bufeng and Wen Qingci had spread throughout the Wei Dynasty.

As imperial physicians in the palace, they had even seen Xie Bufeng with… that body.

He had even crossed half of the Wei Dynasty to bring a coffin back to Yongdu.

The emperor’s obsession with that person was deep.

He didn’t believe Xie Bufeng would transfer his feelings to someone else after a short time together.

So, the emperor might see this physician as a temporary substitute…

The Imperial physician’s mind was in turmoil.

After leaving the palace, the emperor seemed more approachable, but the fear of him was ingrained.

The physician wanted to warn his talented colleague not to get too involved.

But he didn’t know how to say it.

After a long silence, he squeezed out, “To be honest, the inspector once had a deceased, uh… wife. He was deeply in love with him, even though he has been gone for a long time, he still lives in his old house, and even…”

He lowered his voice, mysteriously saying, “He even seemed to have performed a ritual to summon her soul.”

“You do look a bit like him at first glance.” He added meaningfully.

“Cough, cough…” Song Junran, who was organizing medical records, suddenly coughed, his expression becoming strange, “What does your inspector’s family affairs have to do with us?”

Then he turned to Wen Qingci, saying meaningfully, “After we finish these tasks, we’ll be leaving in a few days.”

“Yes, yes!” Hearing this, the imperial physician breathed a sigh of relief, quickly tidying up his things and saying, “Indeed, I won’t say more. You carry on!”

He hurriedly left, closing the door of the yamen hall behind him.

In an instant, only Wen Qingci and Song Junran were left.

Dressed in blue, Song Junran glanced down at the medical case in his hand and slowly reminded, “The last batch of severely ill patients is gradually recovering. At the latest, we should return to the valley the day after tomorrow.”

“We’ve had enough of this madness. Don’t forget you still owe me a thousand gold.”

Without waiting for a response, as if afraid Wen Qingci would change his mind, Song Junran immediately took his things and left.

The room suddenly became quiet.

Wen Qingci slowly picked up his pen but didn’t write anything for a long time.

…Are we leaving?

He realized belatedly that until that moment, he hadn’t thought about leaving.

It seemed he had never considered that all good things must come to an end.

The dead cannot be brought back to life.

“Wen Qingci,” as the imperial physician had said, had become “a deceased person.”

Moreover, on the way to Lianhe, and even before leaving the valley years ago, he had promised his senior brother that he would return to the valley after dealing with worldly matters.

He… really should leave.

But thinking about it made Wen Qingci’s heart feel empty.

Time passed, and the paper remained blank.

The banquet before the palace coup and Xie Bufeng’s dangerous words were still vivid in his mind.

The ending of “Supporting the Ming Hall” was like a never-ending nightmare, constantly reminding him.

Wen Qingci had thought that Xie Bufeng must have resented him…

At least during his “lifetime.”

And Xie Bufeng’s later longing and love might have been mixed with the sentiment of “respecting the dead.”

—The dead are always easily forgiven.

After his death, the little good he did would be magnified, and people would gradually only remember those.

People can never let go of their resentment towards the living.

Only the dead become white moonlight, red roses.

But Xie Bufeng’s reaction was completely different from what he had imagined…

Xie Bufeng seemed to like him more than he had thought.

This thought, like an arrow, came out of nowhere and pierced Wen Qingci’s heart.

It broke through the target and made the haystack tremble.

In an instant, it felt as if something was about to break through its cocoon and become a butterfly—

That evening, the sky over Lianhe was filled with dark clouds.

The heavy clouds felt like a quilt pressing on one’s chest, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s going to rain heavily.” Yu Guanlin looked at the sky and said leisurely.

The past few days of toil had made him look even older.

After speaking, he suddenly turned back and said meaningfully, “Today is not a good day for traveling.”

Song Junran appeared out of nowhere and stood in front of Wen Qingci.

He smiled at Yu Guanlin and said, “Indeed, so I suggest your patrol inspector stay in Yongting Prefecture for a few days until the weather clears up and then return with the grain.”

“…Yes.” Yu Guanlin smiled.

The sky already showed signs of rain, and there were only a few pedestrians left on the road.

Just as a few people were about to return to the yamen office, the sound of horse hooves suddenly echoed from the end of the street.

Xie Bufeng came back so early?

Hearing the commotion on the street, many people who had already gone inside poked their heads out to observe curiously.

Song Junran was puzzled and saw a vermilion-painted carriage appear at the corner.

Then came a group of fully armed attendants, a grand procession.

…These were not Xie Bufeng’s people.

The people of Lianhe County looked at each other in confusion.

The soldiers guarding outside the yamen office hesitated for a moment, then quickly turned and ran back to inform the county magistrate.

“Old physician, who is this?” Song Junran lowered his voice and asked Yu Guanlin.

Yu Guanlin was also puzzled and shook his head, “To be honest, I don’t know either.”

As they spoke, the carriage stopped steadily in the open space.

A slightly overweight man with graying temples, supported by his attendants, slowly got out of the carriage and looked around.

He was dressed in purple, wearing a three-beam crown. Although they didn’t recognize him, his attire indicated he was a third-rank official in the current court.

The county magistrate was stunned for a few seconds, then hurriedly stepped forward to salute, “Minister Ge Zhangtong of Lianhe County greets the prefect—”

The surrounding soldiers and onlookers followed suit.

As a “patrol inspector,” Xie Bufeng was also a third-rank official, but he didn’t like people saluting him.

Therefore, such a grand scene was unprecedented in Lianhe.

“Prefect? What’s he doing here?” Song Junran muttered in confusion.

He was just complaining to himself, but Yu Guanlin, who had seen all kinds of situations in the palace, responded, “What else? He’s here to claim credit.”

Before the incident in Lianhe County, the people had no choice but to wait for death when faced with the plague.

This time, the matter in Lianhe County was handled unprecedentedly well.

It was obvious that the patrol inspector sent by the emperor would report everything to the capital.

Now that Lianhe was no longer in danger, the county governor of Heliang County had finally come to see the patrol inspector.

His purpose was to establish a good relationship with the patrol inspector so that he could be mentioned favorably when the inspector reported to the capital.

Sure enough.

Just as Yu Guanlin said, the county governor of Heliang County asked the county magistrate, “Where is the patrol inspector?”

“Uh, well…” The county magistrate thought for a moment and quickly replied, “The patrol inspector went to Yongting Prefecture to handle the grain.”

“Hmm.” The county governor’s face showed a hint of regret, as if he regretted coming so early.

As they spoke, another carriage arrived.

A young man in a dark green official uniform, with a plump figure, stepped down from the carriage, using a servant’s back as a step.

“What a lousy place,” he said disdainfully, looking around. “Father, you said we should arrive early. But the patrol inspector isn’t even here. What’s the point of coming so early? We should have stayed in Yongting Prefecture as I suggested. We might have met him sooner.”

“Say less.” The county governor impatiently glared at his son.

Then he cleared his throat and said, “Fine, take us around first.”

“Yes, yes!” The county magistrate quickly agreed, bending over to lead them into the yamen office.

The attendants they brought stayed outside, clearly not planning to let anyone else in for the time being.

“Bad luck.” Song Junran muttered.

…The county governor of Heliang County, a third-rank official, would surely recognize Xie Bufeng.

If Xie Bufeng couldn’t keep up the pretense, would he reveal his true identity in front of Wen Qingci? Or even use force?

Song Junran couldn’t help but recall the crazy scene he had accidentally witnessed that day…

If his junior brother fell into Xie Bufeng’s hands, he might be devoured completely!

Song Junran became instantly tense.

No, they have to leave early…

Wen Qingci and Song Junran had only brought a few changes of clothes, with the most important luggage being the medicine box.

At that moment, they were diagnosing patients in the open space, with the medicine box right beside them.

If they wanted to leave, they could do so now.

Thinking of this, Song Junran immediately made up his mind.

He slowly walked over, patted Wen Qingci on the shoulder, and led him to a quiet corner, lowering his voice, “Yu Guanlin is right. It looks like it’s going to rain heavily. We should leave before the rain starts and not delay any longer.”

Song Junran’s tone was calm but exceptionally firm.

He wasn’t discussing with Wen Qingci, he was simply informing his junior brother of his decision.

Wen Qingci’s mind was instantly in turmoil.

He subconsciously clenched his palm…

In the chaos, the creak of the yamen office’s gate in the distance suddenly drew Wen Qingci’s attention.

He instinctively turned his head, looking in that direction as if to escape.

The yamen office in Lianhe was smaller than the Imperial Medical Bureau.

It didn’t take long for the county magistrate to finish showing the two guests around and come out.

As Wen Qingci turned back, the county magistrate saw him.

“Lord Prefect, that Physician over there is the one who prescribed the medicine! Not only that, he stays here every day, treating the severely ill patients, tirelessly diagnosing and treating them!” The county magistrate’s words were full of gratitude and admiration.

“Oh, and… the method of sulfur fumigation outside the city was also proposed by this gentleman. Without him, Lianhe would never have managed to control this plague.”

After speaking, the county magistrate quickly waved to Wen Qingci and Song Junran, saying, “Gentlemen, please come over.”

The county governor’s gaze followed the county magistrate’s words and fell on Wen Qingci.

He frowned, scrutinizing this peculiar Physician.

At this moment, the county governor’s son spoke first, “You say he alone prescribed the medicine? And proposed sulfur fumigation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is he really that capable?” The man in green clothes spoke with a hint of doubt, “How did all the credit fall on him?”

The county magistrate cautiously raised his head, somewhat puzzled by the nobleman’s words, “Uh…” He opened his mouth but didn’t know how to respond.

At this moment, the governor stroked his beard, thought for a moment, and said in a deep voice, “The prescription was indeed his. Credit must be given where it’s due.”

“But I think the sulfur fumigation method need not be attributed to him.”

Unlike the county magistrate who had been in Lianhe all his life and was quite dull in this regard, Yu Guanlin, who was also in the open space, had a look of amusement.

He stepped forward, bowed to the governor, and said meaningfully, “Lord Governor, do you want your son to take this credit?”

The governor recognized Yu Guanlin.

In his impression, Yu Guanlin was a very sensible imperial physician.

Why was he speaking with such obvious sarcasm today?

He even blatantly revealed the true purpose of his visit.

The county governor came to Lianhe not only to seek rewards for himself but also to find some achievements to attribute to his son.

His son knew nothing about medicine, so claiming the prescription as his would be unbelievable. But the sulfur fumigation method was different…

Unlike his father, who had sensed something was wrong, the governor’s son said matter-of-factly to Yu Guanlin, “Am I not worthy of this credit?”

“Hahaha, whether you are worthy or not is not for me to decide,” Yu Guanlin’s murky dark brown eyes scrutinized the young man, “When the inspector returns, the governor can directly ask him. If the inspector agrees, it will be easy.”

The other young imperial physicians, who had long noticed Xie Bufeng’s favor towards Wen Qingci, couldn’t help but look forward to the upcoming drama.

Yu Guanlin managed his expressions, but the young imperial physicians did not.

Their gazes at the governor and his son were increasingly mocking.

The man in green clothes immediately got angry.

He quickly walked to Wen Qingci and Song Junran, looking at them mockingly, “What, don’t you know how to salute?”

Then, he frowned at Wen Qingci’s hat, “Wearing such a hat to meet the governor, how is that respectful? Take it off quickly!”

Clearly, he was venting his anger on Wen Qingci.

The clouds over Lianhe County thickened.

The air was stuffy and oppressive, making it hard to breathe.

Wen Qingci glanced at him indifferently, as if he didn’t see him, and picked up his medicine box to leave.

This disregard completely enraged the man.

“I’m talking to you!” The man in green clothes stepped forward, raising his hand to pull off Wen Qingci’s hat.

Wen Qingci turned to block his hand.

At that moment—

An arrow whistled through the air.

Like a sudden rain, it pierced the oppressive air.

Before anyone could react, it struck the man’s shoulder heavily.

“—Ah!!!”

The governor’s son clutched his wound, staggered a few steps, and screamed, “Who shot the arrow! Catch him—”

Blood gushed out, staining half his body red in an instant.

The arrow was broken and blunt, the kind children play with.

It relied solely on force to pierce the man’s bone.

The sight of the bright red blood made the governor stagger.

If not for the county magistrate supporting him, he would have fallen.

The soldiers guarding the yamen office, following the governor’s son’s order, raised their weapons and looked towards the long street.

The people of Lianhe, who had gone inside, came out to watch the commotion.

At this moment, they also looked in that direction with the soldiers.

—At the end of the long street, hundreds of meters away, Xie Bufeng, dressed in black with his long hair tied up, was holding a wooden bow, looking coldly in this direction.

His eyes were full of killing intent.

His amber eyes swept over the crowd.

The soldiers who had picked up their weapons to arrest him froze in unison.

Xie Bufeng laughed slowly.

He didn’t stop, instead, he raised his bow again.

His gaze was indifferent.

…Xie Bufeng deliberately slowed his movements, like a cat toying with its prey.

“What are you waiting for!” The governor, only concerned with his son’s injury, saw the soldiers standing still and shouted, “Arrest him!”

The hearts of the people of Lianhe County were in their throats.

They didn’t know who had higher authority, the inspector or this man.

…But as the saying goes, a strong dragon cannot suppress a local snake.

Even if the inspector had a higher rank, he might not benefit here.

The governor turned and ordered, “—What are you all standing here for?”

But before he finished speaking, another arrow whistled through the air.

“Ah!”

This arrow struck the same wound from the side.

Everyone near the yamen office heard a “crack.”

This arrow completely shattered the man’s shoulder bone.

“Father, father… save me, save me…”

The governor’s eyes bulged with rage.

“Arrest him!”

“Who—” He struggled to stand, looking towards the long street.

At that moment, the young man on the black horse raised his bow again.

The governor outside the yamen office turned pale.

“This, this… how is this possible…”

Xie Bufeng, dressed in plain black, was followed by four similarly dressed guards.

The soldiers brought by the governor hesitated, then tightened their grip on their weapons and moved forward.

But before they could get close, the governor, who had been furious, tremblingly knelt on the ground with a “thud.”

The area outside the yamen office fell silent.

The governor in purple slowly knelt, his voice trembling with fear, “Your, Your Majesty… Long live, long live, long live…”

After speaking, he kowtowed three times.

When he looked up, his face was covered in blood.

In the silence, a loud thunderclap echoed from the distant sky.

A clap of thunder awakened everyone in the open space.

Long live the emperor?

…Did the governor mistake the inspector for the emperor?

The people of Lianhe County hadn’t reacted yet.

The imperial physicians in the open space also knelt, “Long live the emperor—”

The cries of “Long live” echoed like thunder, awakening all of Lianhe.

The surrounding people, as if waking from a dream, knelt and saluted the young man on the horse.

Wen Qingci was stunned for a moment, realizing he shouldn’t be standing, and quickly followed suit.

But in the next second, Xie Bufeng suddenly rode forward.

Like a black mist, he quickly approached.

Another thunderclap flashed across the sky.

In the distant mountains, heavy rain poured down.

At this moment, Xie Bufeng dismounted, discarded his bow, and walked over.

He gently helped Wen Qingci up.

At this time, thousands of people on the open space were kneeling on the ground and unable to get up.

Only Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng were standing here alone.

Xie Bufeng whispered in Wen Qingci’s ear, “My dearTranslator's Note:ài qīnɡ, the name that the monarch used to address his subjects in ancient times., You may rise.”

The faint bitter fragrance broke through the sandalwood, filling Xie Bufeng’s nostrils.

Their breaths intertwined instantly.

A wandering Physician cannot be called “Dear.”

Only an imperial physician like Wen Qingci deserves this title.

Not far away, Song Junran bit his lip at that moment.

Author’s Note:

Senior Brother: Run, run away immediately.

Through the veil, he couldn’t see Wen Qingci’s expression. But Song Junran could roughly guess that his junior brother probably thought he was a fool.

“Ahem,” Song Junran forced a cough, trying to change the subject, “I’ll keep an eye on the critically ill patients outside. You don’t need to worry about these things.”

Wen Qingci: …

Fine, as long as senior brother is happy.

“Thank you, senior brother,” Wen Qingci responded.

“It’s no trouble,” Song Junran, regretting his words, quickly stood up with his things, pretending to have something to do, “I’ll go get busy. If you need anything, just send someone to find me.”

“Alright.”

After Song Junran left, Wen Qingci finally lowered his gaze to the wooden carving in his hand.

… Lianhe was not known for wood carving, and the craftsmanship of the piece in his hand was not exquisite, with even some small untreated splinters. But the shape of the carving was very lifelike, and Wen Qingci could immediately recognize that the sandalwood carving was of his own hand.

Dealing with the plague was urgent, and although Wen Qingci was not a hasty person, he still quickened his pace.

He spent no more than the time it takes to burn an incense stick with each patient.

Could someone really remember the shape of his hand in such a short time?

…

The small town was surrounded by mountains, with only a few small plots of arable land. Both people and animals in the wild relied on these few plots for survival.

In spring and winter, when there was no food in the nearby mountains, sick rats came down and gathered here, burrowing and breeding underground, even extending their territory into the town.

Before long, the large amount of rat feces and corpses polluted the underground rivers and wells.

Moreover, the rice jars in every household in Lianhe were not spared.

The people knew the rice was contaminated, but if they didn’t eat it, they would starve.

In desperation, the plague spread widely.

After identifying the source of the plague, the first thing Xie Bufeng did was to transport grain from other prefectures.

At the same time, he temporarily abandoned the wells in the west of the town and disinfected the remaining usable wells with large amounts of herbs.

Now, the grain from other places had arrived, and the old grain in Lianhe County was gathered and burned.

At noon, outside the Lianhe yamen office.

In addition to the patients, two large cast iron pots had appeared on the open ground. One pot was cooking soup and rice, and the other was boiling vegetables.

The aroma of the food could be smelled from several streets away.

Even before lunchtime, people were already lining up in front of the open ground.

Lianhe was gradually coming back to life. Patients who had been lying on their deathbeds were showing signs of recovery, and many could even queue up for food themselves.

“Physician, it’s already noon. You should go back and eat, then continue your work,” said an old man lying on a bed, tightly holding Wen Qingci’s hand.

His eyes were cloudy with age, and his speech was unclear, but he no longer had the aura of death about him.

As soon as he finished speaking, his son ran over and added, “Yes, Physician! You need to eat to keep your strength up. You’ve been working so hard, take a break.”

The son’s eyes were full of respect as he looked at Wen Qingci.

The story of the Physician with the veil dissecting corpses on the open ground had spread throughout Lianhe.

At first, people were afraid of him, avoiding and even resenting him. But seeing the effectiveness of his medicine, their attitudes changed significantly.

With the plague under control, Wen Qingci felt much more at ease.

Seeing that the old man seemed to be in good condition, he finally nodded slowly, “Alright, I’ll come back in the afternoon.”

Just as he was about to leave, Wen Qingci suddenly asked, “By the way, how long have you two been staying in front of the yamen office?”

Although he didn’t understand why Wen Qingci was asking, the old man replied, “About eight or nine days…”

“Eight or nine days? Did you see anyone deliver a wooden box to the yamen office during that time?”

Wen Qingci didn’t have much hope when he asked, but the old man’s son paused for a few seconds and then raised his voice, “Yes, I saw it!”

“A carpenter from the south of the city brought something over a few days ago, saying it was for you,” he recalled, “You weren’t here at the time, so the constable took it inside.”

… Could it really have been sent by a patient?

Wen Qingci instinctively asked, “Do you know where that carpenter lives?”

“Of course! Just follow this road south,” the man said, pointing, “Turn left at the end, and you’ll see the sign from a distance. Do you want me to take you there?”

“No need,” Wen Qingci quickly shook his head with a smile, “I have a rough idea. I’ll go by myself.”

“Alright, be careful on the way.”

“Okay.” With that, Wen Qingci followed the direction indicated and quickly walked towards the carpenter’s shop in the south of the city.

The sandalwood ornament was too valuable. Since it was already carved, there was no reason to return it. But Wen Qingci still wanted to find the carpenter to thank him in person or buy something from his shop to ease his conscience.

As the man had said, the carpenter’s shop was easy to find.

After a short walk, Wen Qingci arrived at the shop.

The slightly dilapidated wooden door had white couplets pasted on both sides, and a soul-calling banner stood in one corner, not yet taken down.

… This family must have lost several members to the plague.

Wen Qingci’s mood instantly became heavy.

Before he could knock, he heard an excited voice behind him, “Physician? What brings you here!”

Wen Qingci turned to see a thin middle-aged man holding a rough porcelain bowl and leading a four or five-year-old girl.

They must have just returned from lunch.

Before Wen Qingci could respond, the thin carpenter handed the bowl to the girl and quickly opened the door, “Please come in, please come in.”

“Thank you,” Wen Qingci nodded and followed them inside.

The carpenter’s shop was small, filled with furniture, wood, and various tools, leaving little room to move.

Wen Qingci’s gaze slowly swept across the shop.

If he wasn’t mistaken, most of the wood piled up in the shop was common types like pine or paulownia.

The sandalwood ornament he received was worth more than everything in the shop…

“It’s no trouble!” The carpenter, not even bothering to eat, pulled the little girl over, “This is my daughter, Jiaxi. She had the plague a few days ago. If it weren’t for you… she might have…”

He couldn’t help but cry as he spoke, then tried to kneel before Wen Qingci.

Poor children grow up quickly, especially Jiaxi, who had just survived a brush with death.

Hearing her father’s words, she also teared up and tried to kneel with him.

“Please, get up—”

Wen Qingci was startled by their actions and quickly extended his right hand to help them up.

He had treated so many patients in the past few days that if they hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have remembered that this little girl was one of them.

The carpenter suddenly seemed to remember something and quickly turned to bring a chair for Wen Qingci. “Please, have a seat!”

He then said somewhat awkwardly, “You know, our water here isn’t very clean, so… it’s not good for making tea.”

The little girl also brought a stool and sat beside Wen Qingci.

He quickly waved his hand and said to the carpenter, “No need for such trouble. To be honest, I came here today to… buy something.”

“Buy something?” The carpenter was a bit confused. “Are you here to buy furniture?”

His shop mainly sold large pieces of furniture.

If Wen Qingci wanted to buy something, he would be happy, but why would Wen Qingci come here to buy furniture?

Although this Physician was just a traveling physician, he was always dressed in white and saved people from danger, making him seem like a deity to the common people.

Why would such a person come here to buy furniture?

Wen Qingci himself found the idea strange.

He thought for a moment and quickly said, “I want to commission a new medicine chest.”

Wen Qingci’s voice came through the white gauze, sounding muffled.

When his daughter was sick, the carpenter had stayed by her side and had seen Wen Qingci’s medicine box.

Having been in the trade for so many years, he wouldn’t mistake it. Wen Qingci’s medicine chest was made of top-quality golden nanmu wood.

The wood was dense, hard, and resistant to decay, lasting for hundreds of years.

Why would the Physician, who had a perfectly good golden nanmu medicine chest, come to him?

The carpenter paused and then sighed softly.

He finally guessed why Wen Qingci had come to him today.

“Sir, you came for that sandalwood carving, didn’t you?” The carpenter decided to be direct.

Seeing this, Wen Qingci didn’t beat around the bush either.

He nodded slowly and said, “Yes… this gift is too precious. I really can’t accept it casually.”

Even through the veil, his tone was unmistakably sincere.

“To be honest,” the carpenter sighed, “someone had already paid me for that carving.”

…He had originally promised not to reveal this.

But the carpenter couldn’t bear to profit from the carving any longer.

Under his wide sleeves, Wen Qingci subconsciously clenched his hands. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t realize how anxious he felt at that moment.

The middle-aged carpenter paused and then turned to his daughter. “Jiaxi, go to the room and bring those two carvings to Daddy.”

“Okay!” The little girl nodded quickly and ran into the courtyard.

The room suddenly fell silent. After a moment, the carpenter said in a deep voice, “That day, an official came and asked if I had any good wood for making carvings.”

Almost immediately, Wen Qingci realized that the “official” the carpenter mentioned was Xie Bufeng.

The carpenter’s voice was low and hoarse, with a slight accent from Lianhe.

It was like a wind carrying yellow sand, blowing into Wen Qingci’s heart.

Each word felt like a grain of sand, slowly scraping across his heart.

It didn’t hurt.

It just felt strange.

“…I said I had three pieces of ancestral sandalwood. The official didn’t hesitate and bought all three pieces.”

“Then, he asked me to teach him how to carve.”

“But carving isn’t something you can learn in a day. The official spent two hours here and still couldn’t carve something he was satisfied with. In the end, he gave me the last piece of wood and asked me to carve it according to his instructions.”

As soon as the carpenter finished speaking, the little girl named Jiaxi came running back with two wooden boxes.

“Sir, look, it’s these!”

She carefully handed the items to Wen Qingci.

…The box containing the sandalwood carving was particularly heavy.

For a moment, Wen Qingci didn’t know how to open it—

Holding the box with his right hand, he gently raised his left hand.

Whether due to injury, weakness, or nervousness, his fingers trembled slightly at that moment.

Sunlight streamed in through the window.

The tiny wood shavings floating in the air glowed faintly golden.

At noon, people were lining up outside the yamen office to receive food.

The streets were empty and quiet, with only the sound of cicadas ringing in the air.

After a few seconds, Wen Qingci gathered his courage and, under the little girl’s expectant gaze, slowly opened the box.

—Two rough and simple wooden carvings appeared before his eyes.

The carvings had many knife marks, clearly showing that the carver had repeatedly modified them.

But unfortunately, carving wasn’t something that could be mastered in a day.

These two pieces only vaguely resembled hands and had no aesthetic appeal.

…Wen Qingci slowly reached out and gently touched them with his fingertips.

Through the rough wood grain, Wen Qingci could almost imagine Xie Bufeng carving them.

The middle-aged carpenter said softly, “I thought the official was buying them for himself, but I didn’t expect that after finishing them, he asked me to deliver the carving to the yamen office.”

At this point, he was already choked up.

The next moment, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“He even instructed me to say that it was a gift from the people of Lianhe County, and that you must accept it…”

With that, the carpenter was already sobbing uncontrollably.

Seeing this, the little girl beside him also had red eyes.

She burrowed into her father’s arms and began to sob softly.

Unfortunately, Wen Qingci had been inside the yamen office and did not come out, so Xie Bufeng had to “deliver” the item on his behalf.

Although the carpenter was extremely grateful to Wen Qingci, it was difficult for him to survive in this year of disaster.

He really couldn’t afford to give away the family heirloom sandalwood as a gift.

It wasn’t until Xie Bufeng reminded him that he realized that not only himself but the entire Lianhe had not properly thanked Wen Qingci.

Thinking of this, his heart was half grateful and half ashamed.

“…Why would he do this?” Wen Qingci murmured.

At this moment, his mind was blank.

Hearing Wen Qingci’s voice, the little girl sitting next to him sniffled and said, “That lord, the lord said, said that you have never been properly thanked by your patients, so—so he wanted us to give you a small gift.”

Wen Qingci: “…”

He slowly closed his eyes and clenched the rough wooden carving in his hand.

The girl, who was sobbing softly, spoke with a Lianhe accent and a bit of a nasal tone.

But just from her words, Wen Qingci could imagine how Xie Bufeng looked when he said this.

—The young emperor in black robes, perhaps frowning slightly, gently twirling a piece of wood in his hand.

After a moment’s pause, he spoke these words in a voice devoid of emotion.

Then, with utmost solemnity, he entrusted this task to the carpenter’s family.

There was no need to guess anymore.

…Xie Bufeng definitely knew that he was Wen Qingci.

Never been properly thanked by patients?

Wen Qingci never knew that Xie Bufeng could think of this.

In his previous life, when he was in school, Wen Qingci had also thought that one day, a patient would give him a banner of gratitude.

But unfortunately, he was unexpectedly transported into a book and never got to see that day.

In this life, because of the events in Shan Yu Jian, he had visited countless towns plagued by water epidemics over the years.

But in this era, the practice of dissection was never understood.

Not to mention cooperating with his experiments, even when he finally came up with a prescription, few dared to use it.

Wen Qingci saved many people, but as Xie Bufeng said, he had never been properly thanked.

Instead, he was left with the rumor of being a “Immortal-faced demon.”

As a young man, Wen Qingci had been unwilling and even a bit sad.

But later, he had unconsciously gotten used to it, becoming numb and indifferent.

Until now, finally, someone had quietly sent him a gift behind his back.

…How could the people of Lianhe County carve out his hand just from memory?

Only Xie Bufeng could do it.

Growing up amidst malice, he was particularly sensitive to all this.

And he knew exactly what Wen Qingci needed.

“Physician, please wait a moment!” After saying that, the carpenter seemed to realize something and turned to go inside the house.

After a long while, he finally retrieved the silver wrapped in cloth from before.

Xie Bufeng was very generous; this bag of silver was more than enough to buy three wooden carvings.

It could even support the carpenter’s family for several years.

“I really shouldn’t accept this silver,” the carpenter’s voice came from the main room, “Please return this silver to that lord—”

But when he walked out of the main room, Wen Qingci, who had been sitting there, was already gone.

Only an empty chair remained, quietly placed in the center of the room.

“Jiaxi, where did that Physician go?” the carpenter anxiously asked the little girl.

“He, he just left,” Jiaxi said, wiping her tears, “When he left, he left a hairpin, saying he wanted to buy those two wooden carvings.”

The carpenter looked in the direction the little girl pointed—on a small unfinished table, a jade hairpin lay quietly.

“Oh! This won’t do!” The carpenter immediately picked up the item on the table and ran out the door.

But by then, the long street was already empty, with no one in sight.

*

“…Cough, cough, this smell is really choking, it could kill not just rats but even people.” Outside Lianhe City, a young imperial physician stood beside Wen Qingci, his words full of admiration.

Before this, he had never heard of using sulfur fumigationTranslator's Note:the action or process of disinfecting or purifying an area with the fumes of certain chemicals. to kill rats.

He had to admit, this wandering Physician was quite capable.

A gust of hot wind brought a strong smell of sulfur, and he covered his mouth and nose with a thick white cloth.

“It is indeed dangerous, it’s better to stay away.” After saying this, Wen Qingci led the imperial physician away from the area.

He had casually mentioned using sulfur fumigation to kill rats, and a few days later, Xie Bufeng had actually transported the materials over.

—Although obtaining natural sulfur wasn’t difficult, Lianhe was tens of thousands of miles away from the sulfur-producing area.

Mining and transporting it in a short time was no easy task.

Thinking of this, Wen Qingci couldn’t help but look back at the empty space: “I didn’t expect the sulfur to arrive so quickly.”

“Of course,” hearing Wen Qingci’s words, the young imperial physician’s voice was filled with pride, “Just look at who our… uh, our patrol inspector is.”

Damn it!

The imperial physician felt a chill down his spine, he almost let it slip.

To ease the awkwardness, the imperial physician walked with Wen Qingci towards the city, saying, “The matters in Lianhe County are almost over. When it’s done, why don’t you two come back to Yongdu with us?”

In his professional field, he truly admired this wandering Physician.

And he felt it was a waste for someone of his caliber to stay in the wilderness.

Wen Qingci paused: “I…”

Afraid that Wen Qingci would refuse, the imperial physician quickly said, “I’m sure the patrol inspector will agree. Besides, there have been wandering Physicians in the imperial physician’s office before.”

It was obvious that the “wandering Physician” he mentioned was himself.

Wen Qingci nodded casually.

After spending a few days together, the young imperial physician had noticed that although the person beside him always wore a veil and dressed oddly, he was actually the same age as him and very easy to talk to outside of professional matters.

As they became more familiar, the imperial physician couldn’t help but share stories about Yongdu.

After looking around to make sure no one else was there, he lowered his voice and asked, “Have you heard about the current emperor and a former imperial physician named Wen?”

Then, with genuine emotion, he said, “Our emperor was really good to Imperial Physician Wen.”

“……”

“Of course I’ve heard. By the way…” Wen Qingci, feeling awkward, looked back at the empty space and suddenly sped up his speech, “You go back to the yamen office first, I just remembered I have something to do here.”

“Ah? Alright then, but don’t stay here too long.” The imperial physician, disappointed that he couldn’t share his stories, quickly left the area, unable to stand the smell.

Our emperor was really good to Imperial Physician Wen.

—This sentence, like the thick smoke in the empty space, enveloped Wen Qingci, refusing to dissipate.

It made his heart pound heavily, one beat after another.

Standing alone in the empty space, Wen Qingci paused, finally opening the wooden box in his sleeve once again.

His movements were careful.

In terms of craftsmanship, the two half-finished wooden carvings in the box were indeed crude.

But every knife mark on the carvings was filled with seriousness and patience.

Wen Qingci’s fingers slowly brushed over the wooden carvings, and he couldn’t help but smile gently.

As he placed them back into the box, Wen Qingci softly said, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Even through the thick white cloth, one could hear the endless tenderness in his words at that moment.