In the deep of spring, the mugwort beneath the windows grew taller by the day. Immature crickets perched upon treetops and blades of grass, their chirping softening as night descended.
After a day of relentless turmoil, Qin Jiuye’s head throbbed with a rhythmic ache. She stuffed two wads of cotton into her ears and spread an internal medicine manual—scavenged from Tang Shenyan the previous month—across her lap. Yet, she was too restless to absorb a single word. Before her eyes flickered images of the empty bronze chest in Baoshen Pavilion, the young Supervisor riding through the streets, and that uninvited woman bearing the invitation card.
The year had barely begun, yet she already felt as though her life was unraveling.
Closing the book in a fit of tragic indignation, she pulled out her needle and thread. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she began to rapidly mend the trousers she had accidentally torn during the day.
The poor often grew accustomed to a hurried life, and their daily habits reflected that coarseness. When out and about, they frequently failed to notice a snagged thread or a new hole; over time, their clothes became a map of tatters. Why bother wasting effort on mending?
But Qin Jiuye did not share this habit. Her clothes might be old, but they could never be ragged. Even Jinbao had to remain clean and presentable.
She defined this persistence as a matter of professional dignity for the apothecary business. If a patient came for a consultation and found the practitioner disheveled and unkempt, how could they ever trust them enough to pay for medicine?
Thus, no matter how frugal she had been over the years, she insisted on maintaining the facade of Guoran Ju.
To save lamp oil, her needle flew. By the time she finished, the oil had not yet run dry, so her thoughts naturally drifted to Li Qiao’s clothes.
He had been jostled alongside her in Baoshen Pavilion earlier that day. By all logic, his clothes likely had a few snags as well. Though that outfit was fashioned from Jinbao’s old clothes, the fabric was decent; it could easily last another few seasons.
With this thought, she plucked the cotton from her ears, stood up briskly, and walked toward the side room on the west wing.
Jinbao had refused to share a room with Li Qiao under any circumstances, so she had settled the newcomer in the west side room, which was primarily used for storing herbs.
Darkness peeked through the broken window of the side room. Qin Jiuye stood at the door and called out, but receiving no answer, she stepped inside.
The furnishings were sparse, looking much as they did when the room was strictly for storage. Curiously, though she stood in the center of the room with hands on her hips, scanning the space for a long time, she could not find what she was looking for.
The room was small. How could a set of discarded clothes be nowhere in sight?
Was he still wearing them? Qin Jiuye shook her head and turned to leave, but then her eyes caught a glimpse of fabric peeking from a gap between the medicine cabinets.
She approached and saw several neatly folded garments wedged between two stacked cabinets.
Tugging at a corner, she confirmed it was indeed the outfit Li Qiao had worn that day.
But what kind of person stored their everyday clothes like this? Not only would they gather dust and wrinkles, but hiding them so deeply made them incredibly inconvenient to retrieve.
Qin Jiuye frowned, but then reconsidered. Everyone had their own quirks—Jinbao liked to sleep with his backside in the air, after all. Why should she meddle?
Her brow cleared. She snatched the clothes, tucked them into her arms, and left the room.
***
Behind the back wall of Guoran Ju, beneath an old Oriental Paperbush tree, Li Qiao held a branch, sketching rapidly on the ground.
The lines were a mix of straight and curved, each marked with small dots indicating equal lengths. Certain intersections were circled, with brief symbols sketched beside them. It appeared to be a tactical map drawn in the sand.
As night fell, the village grew silent, making the woman’s voice calling from the front yard exceptionally clear. However, he was at a critical juncture of recollection and truly had no time to acknowledge her.
After repeated confirmation, he finally placed the last stroke at the complex, intersecting center.
He stood up and stepped back, staring intently at the strange map for a moment. Once he was certain every key detail was etched into his mind, he slowly lowered the branch.
A night breeze blew, and a withered flower fell from the tree, landing precisely on a vital point of the sand map.
Li Qiao raised his hand again, intending to flick the obstructing flower away with the branch, but he suddenly froze.
Years of life as a fugitive had honed more than just a heightened sense of alertness; he possessed an inexplicable intuition for trouble.
Finally remembering something, he moved quickly to erase the marks on the ground before hurrying toward the front yard.
The side room was silent; the woman had already left. He scanned the room, his gaze landing on the medicine cabinet. After a swift inspection, his left hand clenched into a fist.
He had been careless.
Perhaps he should have disposed of that item during the day.
The lightly closed door behind him creaked open a crack. Jinbao was standing a short distance away, peeking in.
Jinbao was always looking for some leverage over this man, but despite his efforts, he had come up empty-handed. He believed his spying was discreet, unaware that there was a reason he could never find any dirt.
The sound of breathing outside the door lingered. Li Qiao finally turned around, his expression returning to its usual mask. He walked straight toward the startled figure at the door and called out before the other could flee.
"Brother Situ, do you happen to know where the clothes I changed out of today went?"
It had been a long time since anyone had addressed him by his grand surname. Jinbao felt a flicker of excitement, but he maintained his haughty facade, refusing to look the man in the eye as if he were far too busy.
"What clothes? I haven't seen any."
Li Qiao was neither hurried nor annoyed, but he would not let the boy leave easily.
"The clothes under the medicine cabinet over there."
Jinbao intended to leave with cold, lofty indifference, but no matter which way he turned, he found his path blocked.
He huffed, looking up to intimidate the perpetrator, only to find the man was half a head taller than him. His waist was lean and solid; no matter how Jinbao pushed, the man wouldn't budge.
Feeling discouraged and loath to admit he was constantly at a disadvantage, Jinbao finally muttered, "Qin Jiuye probably took them to mend. She likes mending clothes every time we come back from a trip." After saying this, he felt a pang of resentment and remembered an old grudge. "Weren't those my clothes? How did they become yours? I’m taking them back one of these days..."
He continued to grumble, but the man before him vanished in an instant. Only the sound of Jinbao’s own wandering footsteps echoed on the damp wooden corridor.
"Hey! Hey! I wasn't finished speaking..."
****** ****** ******
Under the dim oil lamp, the woman was buried in her needlework. She chewed on mint leaves while humming a strange, familiar tune, appearing no different than usual.
"Sister."
The youth’s voice suddenly sounded at the door. She jumped, the needle nearly piercing her finger.
Whether it was a lingering illusion from the day, Qin Jiuye felt the look in his eyes was different than before.
In the past, he never looked at her so directly; he would usually glance at her and then lower his head. Now, standing there and looking down at her, the shadows beneath his brow seemed to deepen.
In this somewhat eerie standoff, she finally found her voice. "What is it?"
He took a few more steps forward.
On the edge of the bed lay the short tunic and inner garment he had worn that day. It was impossible to tell if they had been rummaged through.
He shifted his gaze imperceptibly and held out his left hand.
"I cut my finger at the pavilion today. Does Sister have any medicine?"
Qin Jiuye’s gaze fell upon his fingertip.
The wound looked far too fresh; blood was still seeping out. She didn't answer immediately, instead asking, "You've been at the apothecary for so long, do you still not know where the salves are kept?"
The youth paused, then whispered, "Those are medicines for the customers. I cannot touch them."
His words were both perfectly reasonable and humble, instantly transforming her image from a brilliant apothecary manager into a cruel, stingy slave driver.
*It’s just a bit of salve. No need for that, no need at all.*
She finally looked away and reached under the bed to pull out a chest. It was the medical kit she had just packed for the house call.
"Come here. I'll wrap it for you, lest you become clumsy with your work."
He lowered his head, regaining his submissive demeanor, and obediently knelt by the bedside.
He was tall; even while kneeling, he was level with her. Yet he refused to look at her, keeping his eyes downcast as he submitted to her ministrations.
Looking at him, Qin Jiuye felt a strange surge of irritation. She remained silent but increased the pressure of her touch, nearly squeezing a few more drops of blood from the wound.
Li Qiao didn't make a sound from beginning to end, as if she weren't the one tormenting his finger.
Eventually, she gave up, crudely wrapping the wound with a strip of clean old cloth before losing interest in looking at him.
"Go back to sleep. If you can't get up tomorrow morning, I'm docking your pay."
She did not mention the handkerchief. It was unclear whether she hadn't seen it, or if she had seen it and chosen not to speak.
The person kneeling on the floor stood up but did not leave immediately.
After a moment, she heard his voice again.
"Does Sister know the Qiu family?"
The needle slipped, and a section of stitches went crooked.
Qin Jiuye irritably pulled out a stitch and started over.
"I wouldn't say I know them. I treated his injuries once, a long time ago." She spoke as nonchalantly as possible, then realized something and looked up. "Why do you ask?"
The youth tilted his head slightly, his expression normal.
"I was just thinking... is it possible the item in that bronze chest today ended up in the hands of the Qiu family?"
Qin Jiuye froze, then instinctively shook her head.
"How could that be? Never mind that no one knows if the chest was real or fake; even if it were, what would he want with such a thing..."
"To treat the second Miss Su."
Qin Jiuye fell silent.
After a while, she seemed to find a shred of a plausible argument.
"Has anyone actually seen the panacea prescription inside that chest? If it's just a rumor, and he holds an official post now, why would he wade into these muddy waters? Besides, what is the Qiu family's reputation? They wouldn't do something so underhanded."
To clear his name, she reached a conclusion regardless of whether she was implicating herself. But the youth did not seem intent on letting her deceive herself.
"Perhaps you underestimate the severity of Miss Su's illness."
She grew angry, putting on her "Manager Qin" persona.
"You're exceptionally talkative today. Why weren't you this spirited at Baoshen Pavilion? And I still haven't settled the score with you regarding those sugar cakes..."
But for some reason, her authority suddenly failed her.
Li Qiao stood and approached her, his left hand resting on the edge of the bed as he leaned down.
"Regarding the Su residence... will Sister go?"
He was tall, and looking down at her like this created an unprecedented sense of pressure. It took Qin Jiuye a moment to react.
"Whether I go or not is none of your concern." She paused, then added, "Even if I do go, based on your performance today, I might not take you with me."
Li Qiao fell silent. After a long while, he stepped back and picked up the clothes draped nearby.
"These clothes got dirty today. I'll wash and dry them before Sister mends them."
Without waiting for her response, he left the room as quietly as he had arrived.
Watching his figure vanish into the night, Qin Jiuye suddenly let out a breath, only then realizing she had been holding it.
Just a moment before the youth had entered the room, she had finished mending her own trousers. As she grabbed his tunic to turn it over, something had fallen to the floor with a *clatter*.
She had leaned down to pick it up, and upon seeing it by the light of the oil lamp, she had been stunned.
It was her handkerchief. The one she had tied in her hair when she went out that day, embroidered with a small blade of grass.
In the chaos of Baoshen Pavilion, it wasn't strange that he had picked up her fallen handkerchief.
But now, the grass embroidered with green thread was stained with a large patch of blood. The blood had dried, forming a stiff, dark crust. The entire handkerchief was crumpled into a bulging ball, clearly wrapping something.
After a moment of hesitation, she had carefully unfolded a corner of the handkerchief, revealing a small, celadon porcelain bottle.
Just as she was about to take a closer look, the faint chirping of insects outside stopped abruptly, as if something had flickered through the night.
Almost instinctively, Qin Jiuye had shoved the handkerchief and its contents back into the clothes and set them aside.
Even after doing so, she didn't understand why she had acted that way.
But after seeing the youth, she felt somewhat relieved by her decision.
Perhaps the peace between them was as fragile as that wooden-carved tile in the west room. There was only a month left. As long as the tile didn't leak, she could steal another day of leisure, and they could live in harmony under this roof for one more day.
Everyone has secrets.
Perhaps some secrets are best left unspoken. Is that not so?
****** ****** ******
The night was tranquil, the moonlight perfect.
In the center of a waterside pavilion, a young master dressed in opulent silks leisurely tossed cake crumbs. The calm surface of the pond rippled instantly as hundreds of koi swarmed, churning into a vibrant vortex.
A woman in red stood respectfully three paces away, reporting the completion of her task with meticulous detail.
In truth, it couldn't even be called a task.
It was merely an errand. There were a hundred people in the manor who could have done it; why had he sent her?
Jiang Xin’er’s heart was in turmoil, yet her voice remained steady. She was always reliable.
"So, she accepted it?"
The man by the pond did not turn around, half his attention seemingly still on the fish.
She gave a low affirmation, then hesitated before speaking. "Baoshen Pavilion has her name on their list. She likely only came because she knew about the chest. Does the Young Master not suspect that she might also know..."
"Xin’er." Xu Qiuchi stopped his movements and turned his face slightly. "Some things need not be spoken aloud. The city is not what it used to be. Do not speak as carelessly as you once did, lest someone watch from the shadows and make a mockery of us."
Jiang Xin’er froze, then quickly lowered her head to beg for forgiveness. "I was rash. Please punish me, Young Master."
Xu Qiuchi waved his hand, signaling her not to be nervous. "You only earn so much in monthly wages; let's forget this month's fine. I've made a note of it; we'll settle it all together later."
She had heard these words many times. From the day she began working for him, whenever she was due for punishment, this was his refrain. He said it when she was to be whipped, and he said it when she was to be fined.
Yet to this day, she had never felt the whip, nor had her wages ever been docked.
She felt no gratitude for this, only a constant sense of trepidation. She felt he acted on whim, yet believed there was a reason behind every whim.
She truly could not understand this man.
Crumbs fell into the water, and the fish began to scramble again. The man, focused on feeding them, did not even look back, yet he easily guessed her thoughts.
"You are anxious because you are biased, having planted seeds of suspicion against her early on. A fox will eventually show its tail. Is this search for a physician for the Su residence not the perfect opportunity to lure the fox from the mountain?"
Jiang Xin’er nodded, only half-understanding. But remembering the crooked name on that scrap of paper, she found it hard to accept. "But among the names on the Baoshen Pavilion list, there are many suspicious people. Why must the Young Master choose her?"
"Naturally because..." Xu Qiuchi drawled intentionally, waiting a long moment before saying solemnly, "Naturally because her medical skills are superb."
Jiang Xin’er fell silent.
She truly did not know what to say. Especially after seeing that "Guoran Ruined" Guoran Ju today, she felt more than ever that the man before her was simply uttering nonsense to brush her off.
After a moment of silence, she remembered something else and said in a heavy voice, "When I went today, I also discovered that the man in her courtyard is an expert."
The hand feeding the fish finally paused. He turned around, and after a brief thought, asked, "The one she saved previously?"
"Yes."
But in the next moment, he turned back. "Leave him be for now."
Jiang Xin’er was stunned and grew anxious. "Does the Young Master not suspect that he was after the items on Qingping Road? This man is hiding his strength, lurking in a dilapidated village for two months. I fear his motives are not simple."
She had reported before that the man Qin Jiuye saved was suspicious, but her Young Master had never permitted her to investigate closely. Now that she had dealt with him directly, she was almost certain he came from the martial world—and that he was deep, calculating, and certainly no friend.
However, Xu Qiuchi clearly did not take her concerns to heart, waving his hand again.
"What if he was? The items from Baoshen Pavilion didn't fall into his hands. At most, he is like us—just another fish that smelled the bait and came up empty. As for the big fish that actually swallowed the lure, I fear it hasn't even surfaced yet."
A matter should not be pressed thrice. Since the Young Master said to ignore him, she could not mention it again.
But the world is small; if they were truly rivals, they would meet again sooner or later.
Jiang Xin’er secretly clenched her fist.
She refused to believe she couldn't handle a mere country boor.
A night breeze blew, moonlight dancing upon the rippling pond. For a time, no one spoke in the pavilion.
After an unknown amount of time, the woman in red finally took a step forward, her voice even lower than before as she reminded him cautiously, "Today is the thirtieth day. I ask the Young Master to bestow the medicine."
The man seemed slightly surprised. "Is it already the thirtieth day?"
"Yes."
She counted the days every morning and evening; how could she be wrong?
Xu Qiuchi did not move, quietly watching the koi fight for food for a moment longer before he spoke slowly. "How long has Xin’er been taking this medicine? Would you like to stop for a while, or perhaps change the prescription?"
The woman froze, her face clouding with a rare look of terror.
She dropped to one knee, her voice sounding strained. "Has Xin’er done something wrong to displease the Young Master? Please, Young Master, scold or punish me as you wish! Xin’er will certainly not fail again!"
She kept her head bowed, not daring to look at his expression.
After a moment, she felt someone gently support her arm.
"Stand up and speak."
She stood up blankly, her body still somewhat stiff.
It was a stiffness born of fear. Though she tried her best to overcome it, the painful memories etched into her marrow could not be easily subdued.
"Has it been seven or eight years since Xin’er started following me?"
Jiang Xin’er paused, then answered truthfully, "To answer the Young Master, it has been eight years and three months."
The candle flickered, occasionally disturbed by a flying insect. The man began to fan her, not looking at the agony and discomfort on her face.
"In eight years, is your trust in me still less than your trust in a single medicinal formula?"
She was speechless, not knowing where to begin. "Xin’er absolutely did not mean that. How could I dare..."
Xu Qiuchi sighed softly, his soulful eyes clouded with a brief melancholy that soon vanished.
He produced the small celadon bottle, already warmed by his sleeve, and placed it gently on the stone table.
The woman stole a quick glance at him. Just as she was about to take it, he spoke suddenly.
"Qingfeng Powder is not a good thing. If you wish to quit, I can help you."
Jiang Xin’er’s hand froze. After a long while, she reached forward and carefully took the bottle.
"Xin’er thanks the Young Master for bestowing the medicine."
The young master in silk folded his fan and looked at her no more, staring only at the fractured reflection in the lake.
"If there is nothing else, withdraw. Send Steward Liu to me."
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
玉藻街 | Yuzao Street | A street in the northern part of the city where the Su residence is located.
结香树 | Oriental Paperbush | Also known as the Jiexian tree; its flowers are used in traditional medicine.
晴风散 | Qingfeng Powder | A mysterious and likely addictive medicinal powder used by Jiang Xin'er.
柳管事 | Steward Liu | A manager or steward in the Xu household.
清平道 | Qingping Road | A location mentioned in relation to a past incident or item.
