The night was deep as Chang Yuncheng stepped into the room. The lamps were lit, yet the space felt hollow and ice-cold. Qi Yue was not home; she had taken the three maids with her. Chang Yuncheng instinctively glanced back at the courtyard, which also felt utterly empty. Qiuxiang, following behind him, observed his expression keenly. "The Young Madam will not be returning tonight; she is staying at the Hall of Noble Ladies with the Eldest Miss and the others. The maids have already sent the bedding over," she said in a low voice. Chang Yuncheng turned his head. "Did I ask you for that?" he said, his face tight. Qiuxiang lowered her head, showing no fear. "...Young Lord, it is just that I knew you were worried about Yan'er. Miss Yan'er's surgery went very smoothly. The maids mentioned when they returned to fetch things that she has... um... that... awakened from the anesthesia... in any case, she is awake..." she said with a slight smile. "Why didn't you say so sooner?" Chang Yuncheng glanced at the maid, said nothing more, and grunted an acknowledgment. He stood in the room for a moment, then turned and walked out. "Young Lord." Qiuxiang, who was about to help him off with his cloak, called out after him, bewildered. "I am going to the study," Chang Yuncheng said, striding out.

At the Hall of Noble Ladies, next to the operating theater, was a newly arranged sickroom. "I'll count one, two, three, and we lift together," Qi Yue directed. "Young Madam, let me," a disciple offered, reaching for the sheet Qi Yue was holding taut. "No need. This is the first time; I'll do it. You all can manage it later," Qi Yue insisted. Although it was a simple matter of moving the patient on the sheet, Hu San, Guan Zai Zai, and Zhang Tong, each holding a corner, felt a touch of tension. Accompanied by Qi Yue's countdown—one, two, three—Yan'er was smoothly transferred onto the gurney. Chang Chunlan was already waiting in the sickroom. Seeing her sleeping daughter wheeled in, she couldn't help but shed tears. Using the sheet technique again, Aru, along with Quezhi and Ahao, helped settle Yan'er under the covers, securing the blood pressure cuff and thermometer. "It must hurt terribly, won't it?" Chang Chunlan choked out to Qi Yue, her eyes wet. Having witnessed the entire surgical process firsthand, Chang Chunlan wasn't sure how she had endured it. If she had known it would be so frightening, she would have preferred not to have the operation at all... "The ugly silkworm must endure the pain of breaking its cocoon to become a beautiful butterfly," Qi Yue smiled gently. "We used anesthetic during the procedure, so there will be no pain. It’s the post-operative period that..." Chang Chunlan looked at her with tear-filled eyes. "But even pain is a good thing, isn't it? Only through pain can one grow. Sweetness follows bitterness; joy follows suffering," Qi Yue continued with a smile, patting Chang Chunlan's shoulder. "There. You can stay here tonight and keep watch. I will be here too. Don't worry; in half a month, you will see a new Yan'er."

Leaving the room, the disciples in the courtyard had not yet dispersed. Liu Pucheng was directing several disciples in sterilizing instruments, while indoor disinfection was underway, with Elder An watching intently nearby, occasionally interjecting a question. Seeing Qi Yue emerge, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing. "You've all worked hard," Qi Yue said to them, smiling, and habitually clapped her hands. This simple phrase of thanks threw everyone into a slight flurry. "What hard work have we done..." "It is you, Young Madam, who has worked hard..." Some disciples recovered quickly and spoke up in a confused murmur. "Surgery isn't something one person can accomplish," Qi Yue laughed, calling out to Hu San. "Hu San, go see which eatery is still open and order a full banquet table sent over. I'm treating everyone to a late-night supper!" Having never experienced such treatment, the disciples were momentarily unsure how to react. Hu San, knowing Qi Yue's temperament, boomed an affirmative reply and hurried out after changing his outer garment. "Mistress Qi, if you keep this up, you'll spoil me for my profession," Liu Pucheng chuckled, shaking his head. Qi Yue laughed heartily. "It's fine, Teacher. You do what you are capable of; I will handle the rest," she replied. Liu Pucheng smiled and shook his head again. Elder An, who had been sitting quietly to the side, also offered a faint smile upon hearing this.

Qi Yue walked over. "Doctor An, it is getting late. You should go back and rest," she said. "I only regret that my body fails me; otherwise, I could serve my master more fully..." Elder An remarked. Qi Yue let out a small burst of laughter. "Doctor An!" she called out, raising her voice slightly, "Are you being serious now?" Doctor An smiled. Hearing those words, he confirmed his impression: this young woman—yes, a woman—was someone he had initially perceived as vulgar, ignorant, and dark. Yet, seeing her now, although her words remained sharp and assertive, she came across as frank, genuine, and completely open-hearted. It was truly a strange sensation. "Young Madam has had a tiring day; I shall take my leave now," he did not reply directly but stated this while offering a slight bow of his hands. Qi Yue paid him no mind, smiling and nodding her agreement. She had always believed in reciprocating politeness, and Doctor An had been courteous from start to finish. This elder gave her a similar impression to Liu Pucheng. As for that Young Doctor An... "Can Young Doctor An not leave yet?" Qi Yue asked quickly. "Did someone make him the sugar water to drink?" Young Doctor An looked somewhat drained. Qi Yue didn't believe it was simple blood aversion; after all, he was a doctor, even if not one specializing in trauma. He must have seen blood before. He must have been severely startled. A disciple quickly replied, "He drank it, he drank it." "Good for nothing. Mistress Qi, pay him no mind," Elder An said, shaking his head. "Gentlemen, if you would trouble yourselves to help him into the carriage." Since Qi Yue arrived, the disciples at the Hall of Noble Ladies had begun to feel increasingly respected. All the tiresome tasks they used to perform were now prefaced with 'excuse me,' 'please,' or 'if I may trouble you.' It truly felt... incredibly good. The disciples chuckled good-naturedly and hurried off to comply.

At the street corner, Chang Yuncheng had been standing for quite some time. The lanterns hanging outside the Hall of Noble Ladies swayed in the wind, much like his own heart: Enter? Don't enter! Don't enter? Enter! ... The surgery was performed on his niece; it was perfectly normal for an uncle to check on her! Chang Yuncheng finally lifted his foot, but then he heard movement. The door to the Hall of Noble Ladies opened, and he hastily retreated into the shadows. He saw two disciples first helping a man into a carriage, then pushing out a wheelchair, and finally, he caught sight of her silhouette. Chang Yuncheng's heart skipped a beat. Illuminated by the bright red lanterns was the woman's smiling expression... It felt as if he hadn't seen her in ages. Chang Yuncheng stared fixedly at her face, unwilling to look away... This continued until the carriage departed, and the area outside the Hall of Noble Ladies quieted once more. The woman exchanged a few smiling words with Liu Pucheng; the smile never left her face throughout. She... was that happy? Did the events of the day not sadden her at all? Or was she hiding it deep inside? Chang Yuncheng stood concealed in the shadows, pulling his cloak tighter to prevent the night breeze from betraying his presence. Qi Yue and her group soon went back inside, and the door closed again. Only then did Chang Yuncheng slowly step out. He walked right up to the door. Through the night air, he thought he heard laughter emanating from within. He raised his hand but ultimately let it fall.

He didn't know how long he stood there until he heard a commotion. Several people came running down the street, laughing and chatting boisterously. "...I told you we should have swapped that dish for roast pig's head, but you wouldn't listen..." Hu San was complaining, then suddenly stopped short. "Huh?" He looked down the road. "Senior Brother, what's wrong?" The other disciples followed his gaze, seeing only the deep night and the dimly lit street. "I think I saw someone..." Hu San frowned, then looked up. "Thank heavens we're here and not at the funeral parlor, or my legs would be shaking again..." the other disciples joked. "The one whose legs are shaking is my junior nephew," Hu San retorted, glaring. Hearing footsteps behind him, he hurried them on. "Quick, the food's here! Hurry up and set things up..." They all agreed and went inside. Just before entering, Hu San cast one last glance down the road. "Was that the Young Lord?" he muttered to himself. Someone called his name from inside, and he replied, hurrying in. Closely following was a cart loaded high with food containers—at least seven or eight waiters accompanying it—which noisily began filing into the Hall of Noble Ladies, stirring up the entire street. Chang Yuncheng stepped out from the shadow of the corner building, took one last look at the Hall of Noble Ladies, then turned and strode into the darkness.

Chang Yuncheng spent a restless night in the study. As dawn broke, he summoned a servant and handed him a sealed letter. "Go..." he began to say. Before he finished, the servant eagerly took the letter. "This is for the Young Madam, isn't it? I will deliver it right away; no one else must see it," he said with a beaming smile. Thank goodness, the Young Lord was finally going to apologize to the Young Madam. Chang Yuncheng's face instantly darkened like the bottom of a pot. "Get out!" he roared, kicking the servant. "Take this to Young Master Fan in the capital." The servant, sent sprawling to the ground, turned ashen with fright. Good heavens, he had guessed wrong... He didn't dare utter another word, scrambling up and running off. Chang Yuncheng's pent-up frustration from the night, now mingled with fresh annoyance. Why did everyone assume he should be the one to humble himself before that woman? He stood sulking by the study door. "Young Lord." Two servants arrived, bowing respectfully. These were staff sent by the Marquis of Dingxi. Chang Yuncheng merely grunted. "The Marquis commands you to go fetch the Young Madam back," the servant stated. Chang Yuncheng maintained his grim expression and remained silent. The servants stood still, heads bowed respectfully. After a long pause, Chang Yuncheng grunted again. The servants still did not move. "Is there something else?" Chang Yuncheng asked. The servant raised his head and offered an awkward smile. "The Marquis instructed us to accompany the Young Lord," they said. Accompany? More like escort under guard! Chang Yuncheng's face darkened again. He clenched his fists, then finally loosened them, stepping forward. Fine, this was not his own volition! The two servants breathed a sigh of relief; thankfully, the Young Lord hadn't struck them. They quickly followed. Not long after leaving, they encountered the butler, who showed Chang Yuncheng a look of profound relief. "Are you terribly idle? What are you loitering here for?" Chang Yuncheng couldn't suppress his irritation and snapped. Did everyone just wait around to enjoy the spectacle of him yielding to that woman? The butler merely chuckled, showing no sign of fear despite Chang Yuncheng's rude tone. "No, no, I was just checking if they were slacking off. The corners and edges are always missed in cleaning," he replied earnestly. Chang Yuncheng snorted contemptuously through his nose. "How truly hardworking of you, coming all this way to inspect!" he retorted, emphasizing the words 'truly' and 'here.' The butler bowed respectfully. "It is no hardship, this is what this old servant should do," he stated sincerely. What should be done! What butler's duty involved wholeheartedly worrying about whether the young master and mistress had reconciled after a fight! Chang Yuncheng, his face flushed, strode past them.

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