Nie Qingyue suddenly had a thought, and after pulling him up, she didn't let go.
"My lord, a lot of people just threw me coins."
"They treated me like a beggar." (Statement tone)
"Hmm, actually I don't think it's very similar."
"Hmm, it does look a bit different."
"What do you mean by 'a little'? By the way, is that person alright?"
"There was a doctor in the audience, but he couldn't squeeze in at the time. I did some simple treatment and then handed him over."
"Yes, it's good that you're alright."
The translucent, light green noodles, like jade, are neatly rolled into arcs, bordered by long, white, translucent noodles, and then by warm, yellow egg noodles with a soft, lamp-like sheen. These three colors of noodles are arranged in a delicate, cyclical pattern, forming the shape of a blooming flower, with a perfectly round, striking red egg at the center. Next to the main dish are three small, round plates displaying different colored sauces, and the edges of the noodles are sprinkled with tiny bits of fruit and vegetables, creating a fresh and vibrant effect.
When the pair of soft, jade-like hands that had been covering his eyes parted, Yan Shu saw the colorful and uniquely shaped longevity noodles on the table, illuminated by the warm lamplight. Nie Qingyue smiled brightly and happily, both pleased and endearing: "Happy birthday, my husband!"
Yan Shu was somewhat dazed. The scene from just a few minutes ago was still replaying in her mind: the fragrant breath she exhaled, the gentle and soothing lyrics hidden in the darkness, her clear and soft voice singing softly so close to her ear:
No matter how far time has passed, no matter yesterday or tomorrow, no matter what forever means, I only want to be by your side today, to sing you a song, to get a little closer to you, shoulder to shoulder, face to face. In this very moment, having you is forever. I whisper a wish in your ear, wishing all your dreams come true. No shooting star is needed; you can close your eyes and make a wish by candlelight, again and again. When you open your eyes, everything will be a little more, because it's your time. (Jiang Meiqi, "Happy Birthday" - lyrics slightly modified)
"Husband?!" Nie Qingyue waved her small hand slightly in front of Yan Shu, "Come back to your senses, come back to your senses."
"Qingyue." He suddenly murmured her name softly, looking up at her intently. "Hmm?" Nie Qingyue felt that his deep, abyss-like eyes grew even darker and more profound, the clear light within them seemingly captivating her. She patted her head to distract herself: "Eat quickly, I've been preparing this all day. It was supposed to be a cold dish, but it's quite chilly now, so I steamed it before taking it out. If you wait any longer, it'll get cold again."
Yan Shu quietly watched Nie Qingyue, her head bowed, her pale fingers tapping the table absently. She continued rambling, ignoring his gaze, "Eating longevity noodles and red eggs is a tradition of our Nie family for celebrating birthdays. Everyone, young and old, does it this way; it has a lot of meaning. Don't be fooled by my burnt rice; I actually cook noodles very well." The word "thank you" seemed stuck in her throat, unable to be uttered. Oh well, when had she ever hesitated like this? Yan Shu reached out to pat her head, but changed course halfway, gently pinching her cheek before withdrawing her hand, the soft touch still lingering under her fingers.
"Huh?" Nie Qingyue looked up in surprise and saw Yan Shu eating noodles calmly, a pleasant smile on his lips, which seemed more genuine and relaxed than his usual calm and elegant smile.
"If the birthday celebrant wants to eat tofu, then let him eat it." Nie Qingyue hesitated for a moment, then smiled in relief. At least the man in front of her was a skilled doctor who could save her life, would accompany her all the way and provide her with a place to live, and would reach out to her with a smile and say, "Let's go home."
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When there is no rice to cook
"Prime Minister Nie's claim of illness is just an excuse; the real reason is probably related to the recent factional strife in the court regarding the selection of the crown prince. If you are worried, Madam, you can go to Mojing to see him." This was Yan Shu's initial explanation to her.
Being concerned is one thing, but going back to spend time with her is another; it's best to avoid it if possible. Seeing that the little girl had also returned home from the Forget-Worry Tower with Yan Shu's help, Nie Qingyue continued to laze around in Wuhuang City as a carefree idler.
However, this period of leisure didn't last long. The reason was quite unpleasant: the rice in the rice jar was gone. In Yan Shu's words, "Shu Song's case isn't finished. The price of the top courtesan will be very high in the future." These two sentences, completely unrelated, left Nie Qingyue speechless.
She had no idea how expensive the future top courtesan would be; all she knew was that her husband lived a very leisurely life. He was either reading and drinking tea at a teahouse one day or catching up with some female confidante the next. Plus, he'd spent a fortune to bring the two of them out of the Forget-Worry Pavilion. At this rate, it was questionable whether they could even afford next month's rent for the courtyard.
Even a clever housewife can't cook without rice, let alone someone as unlucky as her. Why not just kick him out to see a doctor? Hmm, Nie Qingyue had thought of that too. But her husband never charged for his doctor's visits. Not only that, but he would give her any herbal medicine, no matter how cheap or how precious, for free without even flinching.
To the common people, this was the heart of a doctor, the compassion of a bodhisattva, and so on. But to Nie Qingyue, it had absolutely nothing to do with kindness or benevolence. Yan Shu simply found it cumbersome.
Judging from many of her habits, this person was incredibly unrestrained and penniless to an outrageous degree. She never used servants, and her clothes were always simple and worn-out. She ate plain vegetables and rice with ease, and enjoyed bear paws and fish with peace of mind. When she went out with her, she would rent a room for a few taels of silver a night. When she was tired from gathering herbs, she could simply sleep under a tree in the wilderness. The next day, she would return to the courtyard refreshed and, when asked, would answer her question as if it were perfectly natural: "I accidentally fell asleep in the mountains."
Nie Qingyue recalled that Yan Shu had taken care of her every need for food, clothing, and lodging on her journey from Mojing. She truly wondered how Yan Shu had cultivated such a refined and elegant demeanor under such lifestyle.
"Then where did your money come from?" Nie Qingyue asked, puzzled.
"The silver notes your father gave me," Yan Shu answered frankly, then added, "It's enough for a month's expenses."
Nie Qingyue felt utterly helpless. She hadn't anticipated so many unexpected events on her journey, given that she initially said she was going out to find medicine, and now she wanted to stay in Wuhuang permanently. "Husband, how have you survived these past twenty-three years?" Nie Qingyue slammed her fist on the table in frustration.
Yan Shu cooperated very well and recalled earnestly: "Sometimes it was patients asking me to stay for a meal, sometimes it was hunting wild rabbits or fishing, and sometimes it was... a young lady giving me a food box. When Shu Song couldn't stand it, she would sell my prescriptions and throw the money back at me."
Nie Qingyue was completely defeated.
From this perspective, if Nie Anru hadn't possessed that half-jade of love debt, Yan Shu would have had absolutely no chance of accepting her, a useless burden. Everyone knew that the Divine Doctor Yan was a free spirit, his whereabouts elusive, just as everyone knew that he didn't charge for his medical treatments.
"If my father hadn't forced you, would you have planned to remain unmarried for life?" What I really wanted to say was, "You might as well just ascend to heaven."
What does this mean?
"What girl could stand your life of constant homelessness and hunger?" He glanced at her sideways.
Yan Shu seemed thoughtful: "I haven't thought about that. Perhaps I can find a girl who is compatible with me and can adapt to this kind of life."
"Can't you just be a little more considerate of the girl? Oh, there seems to be some flour in the kitchen, I'll make some steamed buns." Nie Qingyue clapped her hands and stood up, both amused and exasperated.
Yan Shu glanced at her slender, straight back, then turned a page of the book in his hand.
After a peaceful and harmonious lunch, the two left one after the other.
When Nie Qingyue returned carrying a bag of rice and two fish, Yan Shu was already inside. He was drinking tea with his head down, and two silver ingots sat quietly on the table. The two smiled at each other when they saw each other like this.
"I went and sold a prescription," Doctor Yan confessed first.
Nie Qingyue took a big gulp of tea before slowly saying, "I went to sell a story."
"Madam has become a storyteller?" He raised an eyebrow, seemingly quite surprised.
"No, I went to tell the story to a storyteller." When I watched Ji Xiaolan before, there was a scene where he was smoking a big pipe in a teahouse, listening to opera, buying stories and taking notes. I never expected that today, when Nie Qingyue was strolling around the street looking for odd jobs, he would encounter a storyteller on a street corner.
The man had a fan and a pot of tea, and he was willing to buy and sell. Nie Qingyue had an idea and waited until there were fewer people before asking about the price.
The pay wasn't high, but Nie Qingyue had read many classic and modern novels, as well as watched TV dramas and movies. Just to be on the safe side, she told two stories from "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio." At first, the man found them novel and intriguing, but Nie Qingyue's voice, gentle yet cool, made the storytelling captivating. The storyteller was satisfied and gave her a few extra coins.
Seeing her dry mouth, Yan Shu felt a little sorry for her: "Actually, Madam doesn't need to worry. After all, the two of you are living together now, so naturally we won't let you suffer."
Nie Qingyue nodded: "I know, but I have to find a way to make a living, right? I'll just consider it as gaining experience and making some attempts."
What does "suppose" mean?
"Actually, there's no particular reason. Some skills just make me feel more at ease." How do you explain to an ancient person the necessity of a profession for a married woman?
The traditional Chinese belief that a woman should follow her husband wherever he goes, and that her husband should be her heaven, no longer provided women with peace of mind in that era. Having their own job or earning skills was the last line of defense and a way out. Although she had returned to thousands of years ago, in Nie Qingyue's eyes, the importance of this vigilance was no less.
“Madam’s viewpoint is quite unique.” Yan Shu accepted it quickly and did not hold any idea that women should not show their faces in public. “However, if given the choice, writing some poems is always more comfortable than telling stories. I’ll go and make some throat-soothing tea, Madam, please rest for a while.” With that, she took the millet and fish to the kitchen.
Hearing this, Nie Qingyue's previously slight drowsiness returned. She knew perfectly well that writing lyrics was more comfortable and lucrative than selling stories, but this unconscious referencing and imitation made her uncomfortable. After all, it wasn't entirely her own work, and even the best memory has its limits. She studied business, and in this era, women who wanted to go out and do business always faced criticism and numerous obstacles.
She had been dozing off in a daze for an unknown amount of time when Yan Shu woke her up. "Madam, please drink your tea first."
Nie Qingyue looked up and saw that the table was already set with food and a bowl of mellow tea, its aroma wafting gently. She drank it with a smile, then licked her lips as if still savoring the taste.
"Madam resembles some kind of animal," Yan Shu said cryptically before lowering his head to eat.
Nie Qingyue was still marveling at Yan Shu's culinary skills. Before she transmigrated, she always took Western medicine when she was sick, not because she trusted Western medicine, but simply because she didn't want to drink Chinese medicine. The smell of it would make her stomach churn. So when she heard that Yu Sheng would be serving her herbal soup, she felt like she could die again.
To my surprise, the medicine Yan Shu brewed was clear and mellow, unlike the dark and murky ones I had seen before. Instead, it had the color of Pu'er tea without a trace of impurity, and the slightly bitter taste was accompanied by a mellow and lasting sweetness. Hmm, just like the scent on him.
"Husband, ask me to brew the medicine another day."
"You need to learn how to brew medicine?"
"Hmm, the medicine you brewed isn't bitter. If I'm alone in the future, I can brew it myself."
Yan Shu was silent for a few seconds, then pondered and said, "The process is very complicated, and it can't be explained in a few words now. I'll teach you in detail another day when I have time."
"Okay. My husband, does it snow in Wuhuang City in winter?"
"Yes. Would you like to see it, Madam?"
"Yes, I used to be weak, and my father was afraid I would catch a cold, so he would lock me in the house whenever it snowed." In fact, the only heavy snowfall in her previous life, which occurred in a subtropical province, happened the year she was born.
The north wind was already blowing fiercely as winter approached. Inside, a small brazier burned with charcoal, casting a warm, soft light, but Nie Qingyue still felt a bit chilly. Thanks to Yan Shu's care, she felt much better than the Nie Qingyue she remembered who was always bedridden. At least she had been washing clothes and eating dried radishes for half a month without any problems, but ultimately, she was still quite weak and needed to take extra care to keep warm in the cold winter.
"Madam, if you want to see the snow, you'll probably have to be wrapped in a quilt," Yan Shu said, blinking, his words sounding both true and false.
As they were chatting and eating, a series of urgent knocks suddenly broke the silence of the night, followed by a muffled thud, which felt ominous. "I'll go check it out," Yan Shu said, putting down his bowl and walking away.
Nie Qingyue sat somewhat restless at the table. When Yan Shu learned that she intended to stay in Wuhuang City long-term, he hung a gourd at the entrance of his residence. In Yingmo, this was a sign of a doctor's practice, but Yan Shu's name wasn't displayed. Although he also offered free medical consultations, many kind-hearted doctors in Wuhuang would give away herbs for free, so not many people knew him. At least, he didn't currently offer emergency nighttime care.
Before long, Yan Shu walked in, his face grim, supporting Shu Song, who was covered in blood. Shu Song's once radiant face was now frighteningly pale, and half an arrow was still stuck in his chest.
Nie Qingyue froze for a few seconds before rushing out of the hall. She quickly prepared tweezers, scissors, gauze, and other tools, placing them in a basin and carrying it inside. Yan Shu glanced at her with some surprise, then laid Shu Song flat on the bench and began examining her. Nie Qingyue took Yan Shu's medicine box: "The water's boiling; it'll be ready soon."
Concern can cloud judgment. Even the composed Yan Shu could see the anxiety in his eyes. Besides the arrow wound, Shu Song had several knife wounds, some deep and some shallow, which looked quite shocking. Nie Qingyue put her hand on Yan Shu's shoulder and patted her to comfort her, saying, "It's alright, trust your medical skills."
Yan Shu nodded and squeezed her hand firmly before focusing on treating Shu Song's wound. He treated the knife wound while waiting for the hot water to boil, then prepared to remove the arrow with its menacing barbs. Nie Qingyue glanced at the process of cutting open the surrounding skin to remove the arrow and couldn't help but want to turn her head away. However, this would prevent her from readily providing Yan Shu with the tools he needed and offering assistance, clearly affecting the progress. Nie Qingyue had no choice but to force herself to keep an eye on the wound to try and guess what Yan Shu would need next.
The two were busy with serious expressions when a rough and violent knocking came from the outer courtyard, accompanied by impatient shouts: "Open the door! We're hunting down the assassins who escaped from the Prince's mansion!" There seemed to be quite a few people there.
Yan Shu and Nie Qingyue exchanged a glance, not even bothering to guess what Shu Song had done; their first instinct was to prevent them from discovering Shu Song's presence. "I'll clean up here," Nie Qingyue said, quickly gathering the bloodstained gauze and scissors. Yan Shu nodded, turned, and carried Shu Song to the corner behind the screen in the living room.
"Open the door now, or we'll break it down!" The gruff shouts from outside the courtyard continued. Nie Qingyue quickened her pace and suddenly noticed the bright red bloodstains on the wooden planks that had spread from outside the courtyard into the hall. Her heart skipped a beat; there was no time to wash them off, the flaws were too obvious.
After settling Shu Song in, Yan Shu turned and walked out, only to see Nie Qingyue busily putting the bloodstained tools she had just collected back in their original, conspicuous places. "The floor," Nie Qingyue explained succinctly before pulling open her collar.
Yan Shu instantly understood and raised his hand to stop Nie Qingyue's action: "It's my turn." His tone was firm and unwavering.
Could it be people from the Prince's mansion or the government? Nie Qingyue unconsciously clenched her sleeves as she heard the footsteps breaking down the door. Then, with mixed feelings of joy and worry, Nie Qingyue saw the steward of the Prince's mansion leading government soldiers and a group of servants barging in.
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When you can't think of a title
Chen Li, the steward of the Thirteenth Prince's mansion, ran quickly while holding a torch.
The bloodstains on the ground appeared a striking dark red under the firelight. Turning west along the alley, the last pool of blood clung to the black front door of a house. With such severe injuries, he couldn't have run far. Chen Li noticed a gourd hanging in the corner of the door—had he hidden in a healer's house?
At his signal, the head constable of the government banged on the door: "Open the door! We're after the assassin who escaped from the Prince's mansion!" Chen Li frowned at the sound of the rough voice. No one opened the door for a long time.
"Open the door now, or we'll break it down!" the team leader shouted again, seeing his displeasure. Chen Li waved his hand impatiently: "Break it down."
The door broke open with a crash.
A group of men entered the courtyard, a trail of blood stretching down to the inner courtyard. There was no mistake, the man was hiding here. For a mere doctor to dare harbor an assassin, there was no escaping the connection.
He raised the torch in his hand, illuminating the distance. In the courtyard stood a woman, her white embroidered shoes starkly against the half-dried bloodstains. Chen Li was somewhat puzzled, but still quickly approached with his servants and soldiers. The woman was plain-looking and unassuming, showing no signs of power or background.
"The assassin escaped by scaling the west wall." The woman's tone was calm, making it difficult to discern whether she was telling the truth or not, but her expression held a hint of displeasure: "Don't make a scene when you leave, my husband is resting." She showed no respect or fear in the face of the prince's mansion or the government.
Chen Li sneered, "Then how do you explain the bloodstains that led to the inner courtyard?" He secretly recalled that among the powerful and wealthy people of Wuhuang City, there did not seem to be such a nameless and surnameless family.
The leading constable, eager to curry favor, disregarded the confrontation between the two and led his subordinates forward.
The woman glanced coldly at the constable who was about to step into the inner courtyard. Her expression calmed, but her tone grew increasingly impatient: "I told you the assassin escaped over the west wall. Don't disturb my husband's rest. Can't the government dogs understand human language?"
The leading constable, verbally humiliated in front of his subordinates, was about to retaliate when his entourage stopped in their tracks. The woman then pulled a token from her sleeve and threw it at the constable's face: "Look carefully at whose door you've broken into!" Her cool voice held a hint of anger, and her composed demeanor revealed an air of refined arrogance born of years of privilege.
By the firelight, the constable recognized the token as the mark of the Prime Minister's residence—it belonged to Miss Nie. His face immediately darkened, and he reluctantly handed the token to Chen Li, half indignant and half embarrassed.