Born into a pile of wealth and nobility, Jiang Yinyue had seen all sorts of scheming vixens, but she never imagined there would be a silent traitor in her own nest.
If not for concern over his injuries…
The young lady, unable to move, grumbled in dissatisfaction. The hand at the back of her neck controlled her completely. Where their skin touched, it felt itchy and tingling, numbing her limbs and leaving her legs weak and powerless.
When Wei Qin released his hand, his eyes were slightly closed, his lips pressed together, still pretending to doze.
Pretending to doze!
Jiang Yinyue rubbed the wetness from her lips with the back of her hand and reached out indignantly to pinch the man’s neck. Fierce in appearance but weak inside, her bluffing amounted to no more than tickling his skin.
“Considering your injury, This Lady won’t hold it against you.”
“My thanks for your understanding.”
Jiang Yinyue huffed but did not forget the important matter at hand. She scooped up a spoonful of medicinal broth and stuffed it into his mouth.
One spoonful after another, without spilling a drop. She did not notice the sneaky figure outside the room.
“Woof!”
“Oh my goodness!”
The Old Physician, caught by Qi Bao, patted his chest and pulled a fluff ball from his bosom, tossing it with a flick of his hand.
Qi Bao darted off after it.
“So easily fooled. Not at all like one raised at Your Highness the Crown Prince’s side.”
The Old Physician sighed and continued wandering the small courtyard. He found a suitable spot and tinkered away with clinks and clanks, planting several seeds in a ring of fragrant bricks.
Wei Zhongchun limped out and asked in confusion, “What are you doing, sir?”
“This Old Man shares a fated bond with your Wei Family. Here are ten medicinal seeds. They will sprout and grow come spring and can be added to your daughter’s medicine jar.”
Wei Zhongchun tucked his sleeves and smiled his thanks, assuming it was the benevolence of a healer.
Early in the morning, the Wei brothers went together to take up their duties.
Wei Zhongchun asked about his niece Wei Huan’s marriage prospects. “Has Sister-in-Law and Big Brother found a good match for Huan’er?”
Compared to Wei Ying, who was constantly plagued by medicine jars, Wei Huan had borrowed her cousin Wei Qin’s light and become a hot commodity among the matchmakers.
Wei Bochun knew well the favor they owed their nephew and smiled reservedly. He and his wife had quietly selected a suitable family for their daughter backstage. They dared not boast about it, fearing it would upset their niece Wei Ying, plant a seed of resentment in her heart, and add further burden to her already frail body like .
“This Brother thinks Saltworks Commissioner Duan Feng is a good match. We’ve already reached a verbal agreement with the Duan Family elders.”
Saltworks Commissioner Duan Feng came from a salt merchant family but was a juren scholar, holding an eighth-rank official post. To the couple, he was young and promising, from a wealthy household—a man worth entrusting their daughter to.
Wei Zhongchun scratched his cheekbone. “Commissioner Duan? He works at the same saltworks as Little Brother here. A real smooth operator, good at schmoozing everyone.”
After bidding his brother farewell, Wei Zhongchun dragged his leg into the saltworks and found Duan Feng chatting idly by the evaporation pans.
Thinking they might become family soon, Wei Zhongchun approached and struck up a casual conversation. He made no mention of his niece, keeping to trivial family matters.
The dashing Duan Feng sized up this ninth-rank subordinate who rarely sought his company and bluntly pierced the veil. “Since Vice Envoy Wei is so eager to get chummy, This Official will have you pass a message to your brother. No matter how lowly This Official may be, he wouldn’t stoop to a girl like Wei Huan. No more wishful thinking.”
Wei Zhongchun could not hide his surprise. “What do you mean by that, Commissioner Duan? What kind of girl is my family’s Huan’er?”
“Nearsighted, shallow in learning—not even a modest beauty from a humble home.”
Would a true gentleman publicly shame and insult a woman like that?
What a sanctimonious hypocrite!
The honest Wei Zhongchun was provoked. He stepped forward to argue but was tripped by a subordinate at Duan Feng’s side.
Duan Feng glanced sideways at the middle-aged man struggling to rise from the ground and mocked, “Even the Wei cripple has a temper? Or has it gotten to you because your family produced a bangyan? To tell you the truth, the salt merchants’ circles are buzzing that Wei Qin won’t earn the Crown Prince Your Highness’s favor. No merit he racks up will matter.”
Wei Zhongchun struggled to his feet, face flushed red as he retorted, “A hypocrite is no gentleman!”
Duan Feng exchanged a glance with his subordinate and burst into laughter.
After hemming and hawing for so long, that was all he could come up with.
They said fathers and sons complemented each other. No wonder the son was so sharp—the father was a useless fool!
That evening, angry cursing from Zhang Shi and Wei Huan’s sobs echoed through the quiet rear courtyard.
Jiang Yinyue pulled Wei Ying aside and asked, “What happened?”
Wei Ying, looking extremely unwell, quietly explained the reason.
“This Duan Feng is all show, no substance—a total phony gentleman!”
Unlike her sister-in-law’s outright condemnation of Duan Feng, Jiang Yinyue sensed something fishy. Duan Feng was at least a man of the world, always putting on airs. Why would he suddenly go back on a marriage deal and hurl baseless insults?
Something was off.
Wei Ying was due for a follow-up at the Zhou Family Clinic that day. Miaodie, who was accompanying her, was now wiping Wei Huan’s tears. Jiang Yinyue whispered a few words to her mother-in-law and left Wei Qin in her and the Old Physician’s care.
The two girls set off for the clinic with Uncle Song. By coincidence, as they passed a waterside path, they encountered Duan Feng out flower-viewing with his cousin.
Wei Ying tugged at Jiang Yinyue’s sleeve. “Sister-in-Law, that’s him.”
Duan Feng watched the two women pass by with their family servant and could not help laughing. “Isn’t this the Wei Family’s second miss? No wonder they call her the medicine jar—even her walk carries the scent of drugs.”
The man’s frivolous tone grated on Wei Ying’s ears. “Lecher!”
“You’re too kind. This Official wouldn’t even glance at your sister, let alone a broken medicine jar.”
“You!”
Uncle Song said angrily, “Mind your words, Commissioner Duan!”
How could the old master and Lady Zhang take a liking to such a scoundrel?
Duan Feng paid no heed, completely ignoring Uncle Song. He smiled as he eyed the pouting Wei Ying. In looks, she far outshone Wei Huan, but alas, she was a sickly little duck—a burden to whichever family took her in.
Jiang Yinyue, who had clashed with highborn young masters since childhood, suddenly smirked, drawing Duan Feng’s attention.
Looking at the striking woman with the unfamiliar face, Duan Feng raised his brows, vaguely guessing her identity. “What lesson do you have for me?”
“Has Commissioner Duan’s sudden change toward the Wei Family got something to do with salt merchants or salt officials in your family tied to Yan Hongchang?”
Duan Feng’s gaze turned icy. “Don’t spout nonsense. The Duan Family, from top to bottom, is upright and aboveboard.”
“The Yan Hongchang case implicates many. Honest folk crave justice; only the guilty jump at shadows.” Jiang Yinyue smiled innocently, feigning worldly ignorance. “Commissioner Duan acts like a clown, which can’t help but make me suspicious.”
“No need for more words when minds don’t meet!”
Duan Feng flung his sleeve and stormed off, not even waiting for his flower-viewing cousin.
Wei Ying recalled something. “Sister-in-Law, after placing in the provincial exams, this man went to the capital for the metropolitan exam but failed. He even wrote a letter of submission trying to join my father-in-law’s sect.”
“With character like that, he’s not fit to polish my father’s shoes.”
Their conversation landed word-for-word in Duan Feng’s ears. The man clenched his fists, his face as black as a pot bottom.
Wei Ying nodded. The sting of Duan Feng’s earlier humiliation eased under her sister-in-law’s counterattack, but the “medicine jar” label still weighed her down.
The young girl followed her sister-in-law into the clinic with her head down and spotted a silver-robed man leaning against the medicine shelves.
“Master Xie.”
“What a coincidence.”
Xie Jingcheng, who somehow knew Doctor Zhou, was about to make a jest when he happened to glimpse the girl’s reddened eyes.
“What happened?”
Wei Ying sniffled. “Nothing.”
“Nothing’s fine too—we can chat.”
Wei Ying hung her head glumly. Few understood her melancholy; even neighbors mostly saw her as overly sensitive and fragile.
Over time, she dared not easily share her inner woes with others.
Emotions arose from the heart. This frail medicine jar was dominated by “fear” and “sorrow” among the seven emotions, always worrying she’d drag others down. Her way of easing sorrow was to sit by the window year-round, gazing out for a glimpse of light.
Xie Jingcheng propped his elbow on the medicine cabinet, cradling his chin in his palm, and drawled lazily, “Lady’s sorrow is written all over her face. May Lady have her every wish granted.”
As lamps were lit at dusk, Wei Ying carried her medicine packet toward Jiang Yinyue. The silver-robed figure was nowhere in her peripheral vision.
Jiang Yinyue pointed to the counter, where a painting lay unfurled: a persimmon tree lush with branches, heavy with fruit.
Atop it, four large characters: Persimmons Bring Good Wishes.
Duan Feng stormed home in a rage, brows furrowed. The moment he entered, the atmosphere felt off.
The Duan Family was no great clan but comfortably well-off, with three or five guards standing sword-drawn outside the guest hall, tense and ready.
The family head and matron sat in the seats for honored guests.
The uninvited interloper who had seized the host’s seat lounged in the main position, with a wrinkled Old Physician at his side—those creases etched deep by the passage of years.
Bewildered, Duan Feng strode into the guest hall and pointed at the usurper. “Wei Qin, did illness make you lose your way? Think this is the Humble Wei Family?!”
Wei Qin’s ink-black hair hung half-loose without a hat, secured only by a single jade hairpin. He wore a deep gray round-collared robe with a black outer layer over his shoulders. Pale and haggard in appearance, his aura had broken free of some restraint—icy yet thick with baleful depth.
Hearing Duan Feng’s challenge, Wei Qin, who had been resting his cheek with eyes closed, lifted his thin eyelids. The narrow corners of his eyes flared like a phoenix spreading fiery wings.
“Getting the wrong door isn’t scary. What’s scary is dragging your family down with you.”
Duan Feng stared in horror at the man in the main seat, struck by an illusion. This was neither the taciturn scholar from a humble family nor the inscrutable sixth-rank transport judge who had uprooted Yan Hongchang’s lair in one stroke, but a high-status figure with bared fangs.
“Don’t scare me with empty threats here. Speak plainly!”
Duan Feng advanced aggressively, reaching to yank Wei Qin from the seat. Sudden pain stabbed his right knee, buckling it uncontrollably to the ground.
His left knee throbbed next, and by the time he reacted, both knees were planted before Wei Qin, forcing him to crane his neck upward.
Two pills rolled one after another to the toes of Wei Qin’s black boots.
Wei Qin stepped on one and slowly crushed it.
At his side, the Old Physician withdrew his flicking fingers into a habitual pose as if wielding a Gold Silk Whisk.
The Gold Silk Whisk swept away dust barriers.
Yet the Old Physician’s hands were empty. He lowered his sleeves and eyed the kneeling Duan Feng with disdain. When he spoke, his voice was shrill yet his momentum profound. “Mere nobody, jumping the gun already. Impatient and hot-tempered—won’t achieve anything great!”
Duan Feng tried to stand, but his knees ached and numbed him. “Who are you?!”
“A nameless nobody, just a traveling physician.”
“Then what right have you to be so arrogant!”
As Duan Feng opened his mouth to curse, a stack of papers fluttered down from overhead.
Light as drifting snow.
Duan Feng’s heart froze amid the flurry.
He looked down at the writing: irrefutable evidence of corruption.
Not just his own, but that of his Duan Family uncles and elders too.
A black boot pressed onto Duan Feng’s shoulder, applying pressure bit by bit.
Duan Feng’s spine bent accordingly. Abandoning his arrogance, he tremblingly raised his hand and slapped his own face.
The crisp smacks only stopped after Wei Qin and the other departed.
Duan Feng collapsed to the floor, all his bluster gone.
The Duan Family guards watched the old and young pair exit the hall. They retreated repeatedly in wary caution, their morale crumbling with their master’s. Even the Duan Family dog wagged its tail at the two.
On the way back, Wei Qin paused at a rouge shop midway.
The Old Physician yawned and followed the young man inside.
The cosmetics lady greeted them with a beaming smile. “What would the young master like to select?”
“Face powder.”
She led them to a cabinet stocked with various powders, intending to introduce each, but Wei Qin cut straight to it. “The best.”
“Our shop’s most precious powder is ground from Eastern Pearls. We only stock one box a year as the treasure of the store. Hard to find buyers. Young master, perhaps choose something more reasonably priced.”
“The best.”
The cosmetics lady held up three fingers and smiled awkwardly.
The Old Physician asked, “Three thousand taels?”
“…Three hundred taels.”
“Didn’t think it’d be that pricey.”
“…”
Three hundred taels for a box of powder wasn’t pricey?? The cosmetics lady thought the old man was showing off, but he slapped down a silver note—exactly three hundred taels, no more, no less.
Shocked yet fluttering with delight, she exclaimed, “No wonder they say a great hermit dwells in the city—the old saying holds true!”
The Old Physician pocketed his hands and chuckled. “Great hermit dwelling in the city isn’t used that way, but this Old Man likes it.”
When the old and young pair returned to the Wei Residence, they were blocked at the gourd gate by Jiang Yinyue, her face stern and cold.
“Where did you go?”
Wei Qin handed over the makeup box. “Went to buy face powder.”
For a box of face powder, ignoring his injuries? Anger rushed straight to her head, and Jiang Yinyue looked toward the Old Physician, who had his eyes closed and lips pursed. “Didn’t you say that Wei Qin wasn’t allowed to go out? How are you aiding the wicked?”
“Some people get so forceful that this old man can only bow his head and yield.”
Jiang Yinyue snatched the makeup box from Wei Qin’s hand and made as if to throw it away.
The Old Physician grimaced. “Wait, wait! Hold on!”
Three hundred taels!
Seeing how much the old man treasured it, Jiang Yinyue lowered her head and examined the exquisite makeup box. “Must have cost quite a bit of silver, right?”
Wei Qin said indifferently, “Three taels of silver.”
The Old Physician ground his teeth, then smiled and chimed in. “Yeah, awfully expensive.”
Jiang Yinyue was still fuming and had no interest in opening the box to inspect the quality of the face powder. Her little face was full of resentment.
The young couple, with the door closed behind them, walked one after the other to the side of the couch.
Jiang Yinyue tilted her chin.
Understanding her intent, Wei Qin undressed right in front of her.
Fortunately, the wound wasn’t oozing blood.
Jiang Yinyue belatedly averted her eyes and urged him to hurry up and put his clothes back on.
“Lord Wei can move about freely now. No need for me to feed you the medicine by hand, right?” She pointed at the bowl of medicinal soup on the table. “Drink it while it’s hot.”
Wei Qin sat down on the small couch and pressed his forehead. “My head feels a bit dizzy. Let me rest for a moment.”
Jiang Yinyue crossed her arms and stared at the man lying on his side on the couch. She was both angry and amused. However, Wei Qin’s body temperature was unusual, and his physique was equally extraordinary. He had actually recovered his energy in such a short time.
Even the swordsman Han Jian couldn’t do that; he was still recuperating.
The Old Physician, sitting in front of the stove simmering medicinal cuisine, stroked the thin, cicada-wing-like mask on his face. Taking advantage of the moment when no one was watching, he added a millennium ginseng and a Tianshan snow lotus to the porcelain pot.
In the Capital City, within the palace halls.
The Shunren Emperor, whose shoulder blades had been rubbed sore by the eunuchs attending him, set down his imperial brush and lightly spat out one word: “Scram.”
Jiang Song, standing by his side, smiled. “Shall this subject attend to Your Majesty?”
“No need. None of your techniques are as skillful as This Emperor’s Grand Steward. If not for his seeing a bow’s shadow as a snake, This Emperor wouldn’t have allowed him to retire to his hometown.”
Cao Angui, the Seal-Holding Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Rites, had reached seventy years old that late spring and submitted a petition to retire. The Shunren Emperor rejected it several times.
Everyone in the court knew that the Seal-Holding Grand Eunuch had a worry on his mind. He often spoke to others about how his adopted son, who had jumped into a well to commit suicide, had become a malevolent ghost in the palace, making it impossible for him to eat or sleep in peace.
Malevolent ghosts would come to claim lives, so the old eunuch’s reason for retiring was to get away from that well in the palace, live a few more years, travel the world, and let go of a regret he could never make up for.
It just so happened that the Shunren Emperor also feared his own son coming back as a ghost to claim his life. Annoyed by the old eunuch’s nagging, he approved the resignation.
“No idea where Cao Angui has wandered off to on his travels!”
Jiang Song didn’t forget to crack a few jokes, letting his imagination run wild.
The Shunren Emperor laughed and cursed him lightly, then waved his hand. “Go back to your Ministry of Justice.”
“This subject takes his leave.”
As Jiang Song descended the jade steps in front of the hall, he ran into the zhuangyuan scholar and the Tanhua Scholar, who had placed alongside his son-in-law.
“This lowly official pays respects to the Minister.”
The two spoke in unison, and Jiang Song smiled and nodded.
Returning to his residence at midnight, Jiang Song took up his brush to write a family letter. Midway through, he summoned his daughter’s personal maidservant, Hong Mei.
The woman wore a set of tight-fitting clothes with a sword at her waist. Unlike the little county lord Cui Shihan, who also favored such attire, she had a tall and graceful figure, with curvaceous curves and a pair of long, elegant legs.
“Fetch Miss back to the Capital City?”
Jiang Song nodded. “It’s about time for Niannian to return to the Capital City.”
“The young master is about to return to the Capital City as well, to take up the post of Cabinet Grand Scholar. Wouldn’t it be redundant for this servant to go fetch Miss at this time?”
Jiang Song smiled without replying.
Only those who had been through it understood the nuances.
By his calculations, the young couple should have developed feelings after spending time together. Right now was the lovey-dovey phase; a short parting was better than a honeymoon, and the dry firewood would blaze even more fiercely.