"I know you have someone else in your heart, and that your love is unwavering, but you must understand that I feel the same way."
The warmth seeped through the thin paper to her cool fingertips. She wanted to laugh, but her eyes were already blurry with tears.
[Yan Shu's Side Story - About the Half-Year Disappearance]
On the third day of his journey, he made a brief stop at the post station.
Seeing a thin, forlorn "Spring" character pasted on a wooden beam in the station, he realized that today was New Year's Eve.
“Ah Shu, you have a family now. I can finally leave you behind and return to the city to reunite with my family without any guilt.” He remembered that before the autumn sacrifice, Shu Song seemed to be patting his shoulder and saying this to him with a look of relief. Can two people really be called a family? He couldn’t help but smile slightly as the image of that lazy woman who often dozed off flashed through his mind.
He filled his leather bag with water, replenished his provisions, and mounted his horse again, heading north.
Two days later, they finally arrived at the border between Yingmo Kingdom and Misha Kingdom—the small town of Luoyuan.
As a vital transit point for merchants and travelers, border trade here was naturally extremely developed. The morning market seemed to have been open for a long time, yet brown-haired, blue-eyed foreigners and merchants coming and going were still a common sight. He strolled around and found only one stall selling camel tumbleweed and rhinoceros horn.
Although the medicinal herbs weren't exactly rare, they weren't suitable for growing in Yingmo's native lands. Unfortunately, Nie Qingyue's required medicine lacked these two ingredients, and the only way to obtain the highest quality was through merchants from other regions. Therefore, when he heard from a merchant returning home that the border had recently opened for business, he didn't hesitate and spurred his horse towards Luoyuan.
Looking back now, it seems a bit rushed.
There were fewer pharmacy vendors at the morning market this year, and that vendor's offer was significantly higher than expected.
He left in a hurry, carrying little silver, only two bottles of privately prepared wound medicine. Fortunately, although the town was on the frontier, it wasn't without experts. They could assess the value of the medicine just by looking at its scent and color, making bartering relatively easy.
After the medicine was changed, he held the remaining loose silver in his hand and passed a stall selling rouge and face powder on the way.
Various silver carved boxes of different colors were neatly but loosely arranged on the red cloth, their lids still closed yet emitting a fragrant aroma. Among the pile of small boxes, a bright and translucent horn comb stood out. The handle was polished into the smooth shape of a fish tail, and the comb head was exquisitely carved with a fish mouth and eye holes, its surface gleaming warmly in the sunlight.
A thought struck him, and he went over to inquire about the price.
The elderly stall owner, who was leisurely sitting by his stall carving wood, smiled and shook his head: "It's already been reserved by a customer."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a thin, refined scholar rushed over, pulled a folded silk handkerchief from his sleeve, and carefully unwrapped it. Inside were what appeared to be carefully collected copper coins. He poured the coins into the old man's hand, and the gaunt scholar, with a hint of delight, took the comb and walked away.
"Is there only one comb?" he asked, and as expected, the old man nodded with a faint smile.
Still somewhat attached to the scholar, she turned and wandered around some similar cosmetic shops, but couldn't find anything she liked. Just as she was about to go to a tavern to exchange her money for drinks and snacks, she unexpectedly ran into the same scholar again around the corner.
At that moment, the scholar was being beaten black and blue by a servant of a certain household. He was thrown out of the gate and fell to the ground in a few quick moves. He was still clutching the comb that he hadn't had time to give away. His arm hung down stiffly, and he was in so much pain that he couldn't get up.
He helped the man up, and with just a slight exertion, the scholar cried out in pain. Frowning, he pressed his fingers down, already making his judgment: dislocated. "Bear with it." With practiced ease, he lifted, pressed, and turned, repositioning the man. The scholar let out another scream, followed only by hissing breaths.
"Thank you for your help, young master." The scholar tried to raise his still clumsy hand to bow, rambling on, "I have no way to repay you..."
He had no interest in getting bogged down in formalities. A thought vaguely popped into his head, and somehow he blurted out, "A glass of wine will suffice." He was quite baffled by what he said afterward.
Thus, the tavern gained a scholar who drowned his sorrows in wine and poured out his bitterness, and a customer who silently drank and occasionally chimed in.
It's really just a common plot in plays: a poor scholar and a rich girl, a tragic love story of mismatched social status. The scholar, drunk, shakes his hand, looking dejected and confused, his expression one of utter frustration: "What use are fame, fortune, and social standing? Can they guarantee I'll treat her well for a lifetime? Ha, I'm the one who truly loves her..."
He watched as more than half of the wine spilled from the glass in his hand, remaining silent for a long while.
He actually had a vague recollection of that family; they were the most powerful family in Luoyuan Town, and an elder in the family suffered from chronic headaches. A few years ago, when he came to the medicinal market looking for medicine, he was half-asked and half-pushed to have a consultation, but the headaches were a chronic ailment that could not be cured with just one or two doses.
"...A lifetime?" He put down his nearly empty wine glass.
"Hmm. A lifetime!" The scholar was drunk, slumped on the table, hiccuping, and still muttering the young lady's name.
He left the loose silver and walked out of the tavern.
When he knocked on the door, he suddenly realized what he was doing, but his foot was already inside. He had completely forgotten the old saying: "Don't be a matchmaker, or your family will prosper for three generations."
For example, at this moment, as he stood in the hall filled with red silk and wedding candles, watching the lady of the house wiping away her tears in front of him, he suddenly understood what Nie Qingyue meant by "my heart is so tired".
Two months of acupuncture and massage, along with carefully prepared prescriptions, hadn't been for nothing. He was certain he had clearly expressed his desire to play matchmaker, yet the family, with an inexplicable capacity for understanding, had tied the knot with them. Overnight, the town was filled with invitations and celebratory announcements. The woman, heartbroken and devastated, wept, "Gui'er is still a virgin! These invitations have been sent throughout the entire town! Young Master Yan, if you don't marry her, how will she ever face anyone again?"
He raised an eyebrow: "I'm already married."
The woman paused in wiping away her tears with her handkerchief, then wailed with increasing sorrow, "Gui'er's life is so miserable! It's all my fault that I've caused Gui'er to have to become a concubine."
"..." Without saying a word, he turned and walked away, heading straight to find the scholar.
It's really bad to be a scoundrel if they really want him to demonstrate it in person.
The following day, the wedding banquet stretched across half the street.
Many people attending the wedding banquet that day noticed that the handsome groom in red, after toasting everyone, finally circled around to the white-robed scholar sitting quietly drinking alone at the very edge of the room.
The two seemed to know each other. The groom bowed deeply in a toast, a gesture rarely seen among their peers, but the scholar remained unperturbed, simply raising a hand to stop him. The groom seemed a little excited, grasping the scholar's hand and asking him something. The scholar smiled faintly, his ordinary features revealing a relaxed and carefree air. He opened his palm before the groom and uttered a few words.
The groom was taken aback, then reached into his sleeve and rummaged around for a moment.
Two days later, he saw the newlywed couple off as they eloped at the ferry.
The bright and charming woman, arm in arm with the scholar who had reverted to his original form, thanked him with a sweet smile.
He gazed at the young lady's face, as beautiful as a peach blossom, and inexplicably recalled his wedding night long ago, Nie Qingyue's bright, clear eyes and flawless skin. The horn comb he had taken a liking to at first sight now lay quietly in his sleeve, and he still felt a subtle unease about it. Had he taken the initiative to befriend her, act as matchmaker, and help her escape the wedding all for this?
It shouldn't be like this. He waved goodbye to the two of them, turned and left, pondering quietly in his heart.
As soon as the medicine arrived, I had someone deliver it to her. The letter had also been sent back to Fusheng Valley, where Yu Che had left home to study under a master when he was young, asking him to go and take care of her. There shouldn't be any problems.
He mounted his horse, turned the reins, and rode off in different directions, aimlessly and intermittently, as carefree as ever. When he was tired, he would spend the night in the carriage; when he was hungry, he would hunt some wild rabbits to fill his stomach. He visited many places, intentionally or unintentionally: breezy cliffs, misty seas of pines, secluded valleys and green forests, deep streams and ancient temples. He even returned to the Yan family to visit his parents and went to Fushen Valley to catch up with his master and fellow disciples. But something was always different. It seemed that the farther he went, the more often those memories and longings flashed through his mind.
Finally, he let go of the reins, and the horse trotted leisurely, inching closer to the city of Wuhuang. He vaguely remembered a stone pool nearby, its water clear and cold; he had intended to go there to wash up, never expecting to encounter her there.
She sat quietly by the pool, staring intently at the water. Her face was as unadorned as ever, and she wore the same plain men's long robe, loose and thin. He couldn't help but smile, found a rock to lean against, and sat down, waiting for her to notice him. A long time passed, but her head remained focused on the shimmering pool.
The temperature in the shade was comfortable, yet bright enough for midsummer. He grew a little tired while waiting, so he rested a book on his face, pretending to take a nap. Following the gaps in the book, he saw her cautiously survey her surroundings before finally taking off her cloth shoes, bending down her trouser legs, and lightly dipping her jade-like feet into the clear water. Her eyes were filled with a longing that made her want to jump in and play for a while.
He wanted to laugh, and his mood gradually improved. He took out the comb he had carried with him for a long time, flipped over and jumped into the water, deliberately hiding underwater and not coming up.
After the scholar told him that giving him a comb implied a secret engagement, he couldn't help but feel a little confused and thoughtful, wondering what his unusual actions might be implying.
Whether it was attraction or romantic love, after actually seeing her, I realized that everything was actually very simple and pure.
It was just that seeing the comb reminded me of her, and that was it.
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[Bonus Chapter 4 - Life is full of first times]
Life is full of firsts, and even a miracle doctor is no exception.
[Part 1 - Initial Hesitation to Get a Diagnosis]
Nie Qingyue has been having a poor appetite lately, and after noon she would vomit until she was completely disoriented.
When Doctor Yan returned from outside, he saw his wife sitting on a bench, pale-faced, eating the hawthorn cake that had been given to him as medicine.
"You've taken all your medicine?"
"..." He didn't even have the strength to answer, and just nodded with a hawthorn cake in his mouth.
As Doctor Yan bent down to carry her back to her room, his sleeve was grabbed.
"Hawthorn." She gazed at the small piece remaining on the plate, still wanting more.
"Eating too much on an empty stomach is not good." He didn't stop walking and put her back on the bed. "Madam hasn't been eating much lately."
Nie Qingyue smelled his scent but didn't say anything. When it was time for dinner, she still got up to look for hawthorns as usual, and was caught red-handed.
"Wrist." Yan Shu's expression was serious.
"Yes." She cooperated with the diagnosis with satisfaction, her slender wrist turning over.
Doctor Yan's expression was quite subtle. He glanced up at her, then focused on taking her pulse again.
Nie Qingyue found it strange, waving her other hand in front of his face repeatedly, but he ignored it. It's just that he almost finished all the hawthorn cakes in his pharmacy, why is he so serious?
"I won't eat it anymore." She poked his serious face with her finger.
Suddenly, he gently picked her up and said, "Let's go to Doctor Li's."
"What?"
It was only two streets away, but he walked with great composure.
"...I have a terminal illness?" Nie Qingyue hesitated. She had only eaten some unsanitary street food with Murong a few days ago and had vomited and upset her stomach. Yan Shu's attitude was really challenging her imagination.
"no."
At the Li Family Medical Clinic, the old doctor tapped two fingers together and then struck the hammer to confirm: "Pregnancy pulse!"
Part Two - The First Time I Wanted to Be Invisible
The incident occurred when Yan Xiaohuan was eleven months old, at the dinner table.
Little Yan Xiaohuan uttered his first meaningful syllable besides babbling – “Dad”.
Doctor Yan paused with his chopsticks, and the meatball he had placed in Nie Qingyue's bowl slipped away, rolling to the edge of the table and falling down. The expression on his face could no longer be described as surprise.
Nie Qingyue felt that she should take advantage of this good momentum and continue to work hard, so she picked up another meatball and coaxed, "Good boy, call me mother."
Yan Xiaohuan stared at the meatball with her round eyes, then opened her little mouth and said, "Dad."
"...It's Mother."
"father."
"……mother."
"father."
Nie Qingyue was defeated. She took back the dumpling, stuffed it into her mouth, and remained silent, looking dejected.
Yan Xiaoci sat to the side watching her brother and Nie Qingyue's failed interaction, then looked at the beaming Doctor Yan, and finally her gaze followed the meatball that rolled to the edge of the table and then to the bottom of the cabinet.
The next day, little Yan Xiaohuan mastered a new word—"contest"—and pronounced it clearly and menacingly. When combined with what he had learned before, it became: "Dad, contest!" It really gave off the air of a father and son turning against each other.
Nie Qingyue, biting her chopsticks, asked in confusion, "How did such unrelated words end up together?"
Yan Shu felt slightly embarrassed, lowered his head to eat without saying a word; Yan Xiaoci looked at the bottom of the cabinet, the meatballs were gone; Yan Xiaohuan was still energetically repeating the two words he had mastered.