When Coffin Boy next arrived at the Hall of a Thousand Treasures, he came driving a cart, which was covered in black cloth and brought in through the back entrance.

Beyond her daily work of teaching, Qi Yue still insisted on holding one in-person class session daily.

When the disciples on rotation entered the classroom, they noticed something draped under a black cloth on the podium; unsure what it was, they began guessing curiously.

Qi Yue waited until everyone was inside and standing properly at their desks—yes, they still weren't accustomed to the teacher standing while they sat, and Qi Yue disliked teaching from a seated position, so everyone remained standing.

"Alright, today we are going to get acquainted with the organs of the human body," Qi Yue announced.

With a raised hand, Coffin Boy pulled back the black cloth, revealing a row of more than a dozen black earthenware jars.

The disciples’ eyes widened; some were utterly perplexed.

"Now, we express our gratitude to these cadaver donors," Qi Yue said, first bowing deeply to the black jars before her.

Even though, in ancient times, these donors were hardly voluntary…

The disciples didn't understand, but they awkwardly followed suit with the ritual.

Coffin Boy froze for a moment on the side. Seeing everyone else bowing, standing felt jarringly conspicuous, so after a slight hesitation, he slowly bent his body as well.

Once the ceremony was complete, Qi Yue stood up and pulled on a pair of deerskin gloves.

"When we treat illness, we are helping our organs and body fight against the sickness. Therefore, we must first understand our own physical organs..." she began, reaching into one of the jars and lifting something out.

"Today, let's start with the internal organs..."

A moment of silence hung over the classroom, which then erupted into a chaotic clamor of "Whoa!"

"...Everyone vomited for two days straight... The cafeteria was ordered to keep any trace of meat or fish entirely out of sight..."

Seeing this, Chang Yancheng couldn't help but slap the table and burst into loud laughter.

This piece of paper in his hand was far larger than the one delivered by carrier pigeon, and it contained much more writing. It turned out that besides confirming his safety via pigeon, he had instructed his guards to write a detailed letter every month.

"...Besides throwing up here, Hu San even ran into the city to the butcher's house. He stood there watching the slaughter every day, only to faint daily. He has now learned how to slaughter pigs, but he still faints at the sight of blood..."

Chang Yancheng tilted his head back and roared with laughter again.

As he laughed, he reread the letter from the beginning, as if the scenes from the Hall of a Thousand Treasures were playing out before his eyes...

Wait a minute!

He suddenly sat bolt upright, scanning the letter from top to bottom with renewed seriousness. These were the goings-on at the Hall of a Thousand Treasures, not the details of Qi Yue.

Aside from Madam Qi arriving for work, seeing patients, and lecturing—all repetitive tasks—there was no other description of her. Instead, others took up the bulk of the space.

Who cared if Hu San was fainting or the disciples were vomiting, or about Coffin Boy...

Was this Coffin Boy going to be a permanent fixture at the Hall of a Thousand Treasures?

Chang Yancheng clenched his fists.

Did that woman really do such tedious, repetitive, and monotonous things every day?

Was she happy?

Chang Yancheng loosened his grip, his mouth filling with a bitter taste.

What if she was happy? What if she wasn't? What could he do anyway? Other than accompany her happiness or unhappiness, he could no longer influence whether she was happy or sad. Her happiness or unhappiness had nothing to do with him anymore...

Nothing to do with him...

Chang Yancheng lowered his head and remained motionless for a long time.

Someone strode into the room from outside.

"Master Chang, your family letter," said a large man, flipping through a letter in his hand. "Huh? Wasn't your letter just delivered? Why is there another one?"

Chang Yancheng had already regained his composure and pressed down on the letter spread on his desk with a book.

"Let me see," he said, feigning a bit of surprise.

The large man handed him the letter.

Chang Yancheng took it. This one was from Madam Xie, every word filled with gratitude and concern, making Chang Yancheng feel a pang of sourness mixed with warmth.

As he reached the latter part, Chang Yancheng's expression stiffened.

"What's wrong?" the large man asked hastily. "Is there trouble at home?"

Chang Yancheng managed a stiff smile.

"Nothing," he replied.

This look certainly didn't suggest nothing was wrong. The large man wasn't foolish, but clearly, it wasn't something to be discussed openly.

"If something is wrong, you must speak up. Your brothers are all here," he assured him.

Chang Yancheng nodded and said, "Thank you."

The large man then took his leave.

Meanwhile, Chang Yancheng took a deep breath and looked at the letter again.

"...Even in your absence, I will arrange a suitable marriage for you. Your mother will never allow you to become an object of ridicule."

Chang Yancheng felt a sharp sting behind his eyes. He wanted to tear the letter to shreds, but his hands were weak. After trembling for a moment, he set it aside and picked up his brush to write a reply.

At this moment, on the street, a horse galloped by. Although this was a border city, trade was thriving, making the market lively. The spirited youth on horseback immediately drew the sideways glances of young women and married wives.

"Brother Xiao Jiang, Brother Xiao Jiang... please have some tea!"

"Brother Xiao Jiang, Brother Xiao Jiang... try this freshly made mutton stew!"

The customs in the borderlands were liberal; quite a few women simply beckoned and called out.

Jiang Hai, who would normally respond to such calls with a charming, mesmerizing smile to repay the women's attention, seemed not to hear them this time, spurring his horse on in a dash, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

"Your Highness!" Jiang Hai burst into Chang Yancheng's room like a gust of wind, shouting loudly.

Chang Yancheng was just folding the letter he had finished writing when Jiang Hai rushed in, his face seemingly glowing as brightly as the midday sun, his brilliant smile almost capable of melting things.

"What is it?" Chang Yancheng frowned, his gaze falling on a large bundle Jiang Hai was clutching.

"Your Highness, you're sending a family letter, right?" Jiang Hai asked, his eyes sparkling.

Chang Yancheng sealed his letter.

"How about this?" he asked coolly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the large bundle was thrust right in front of his face, nearly hitting his chin.

"Your Highness, please take this along for Madam Qi," Jiang Hai said loudly, his face filled with anticipation.

Madam Qi...

Chang Yancheng looked at Jiang Hai and couldn't help but recall his very first meeting with Qi Yueniang.

Why call it the first time? They had actually met long before, but perhaps that was the time she first truly entered his view.

That woman had walked in with an arrogant swagger...

When she next saw him, the look of shock on her face...

It surfaced before his eyes with vivid clarity.

"Your Highness?" Jiang Hai reached out and waved a hand in front of Chang Yancheng’s face.

What was wrong with His Highness?

Oh, perhaps he had forgotten who Madam Qi was? Of course—he was a prince; how would the servants remember someone like her?

"She's that female doctor of yours who saved my life," he quickly reminded him, adding with a touch of grievance, "I've always wanted to send her something to express my gratitude, but I never had the chance. Now that Your Highness is here, it's perfect! Sent back with your family letter, it’s sure to reach her hands... It’s been so long; I wonder if she still remembers me? She should, right? I'm not exactly ugly... Cough cough, of course, I don't mean anything else by it..."

Listening to Jiang Hai's rambling, Chang Yancheng felt a storm of emotions churning within him.

Anyone could express concern for her, except for him.

And all he could do was watch others show concern for her, while he himself could do nothing.

Would his life always be like this?...

How did it come to this?

Hu San was sneaking out again, intending to watch the pig slaughter, when Qi Yue called him back.

"Hemophobia is an ailment; it's not something you can overcome just because you have the will," Qi Yue said seriously.

Hu San looked crestfallen.

"I'm useless..." he murmured, looking down.

"How are you useless?" Qi Yue shook her head, pointing around. "All of this... you helped procure it all..."

Hu San glanced around.

"Master, you procured all of this. I only ran errands and used my voice," he replied.

"Exactly! Doesn't that mean you're useful? Your legs and your mouth have done so much for everyone," Qi Yue said with a smile, shaking a wooden tube in her hand. "This stethoscope works reasonably well. Ask the craftsmen to work harder and see if they can rush the production so everyone can have one soon."

It was a wooden, bell-shaped listening tube; while its effectiveness couldn't compare to what Qi Yue had brought, it was better than nothing.

"Hu San, you are the one I trust the most. All my funds and the designs for these items are entirely under your charge," she said earnestly and solemnly to Hu San.

Hu San suddenly straightened his back, his expression equally solemn.

"Master, rest assured. I will guard these secret texts with my life," he declared.

"Alright, hurry and get busy. The future success of our medical hall depends on you," Qi Yue said with a smile.

"It definitely will!" Hu San shouted, then darted out the door.

Wang Tongye was just entering when he was nearly knocked over; fortunately, the young attendant caught him.

"Rushing off to be reincarnated!"

Wang Tongye didn't speak, but a clear, crisp voice of a young girl called out.

Wang Tongye quickly reached out to cover the little girl's mouth beside him.

"Qiao'er, mind your manners, your demeanor! We are outside," he whispered sternly.

The little girl, about seven or eight years old, wore a goose-yellow dress adorned with a few beaded flowers. Her lips were red and her teeth white, her face delicate and charming. Hearing Wang Tongye’s words, a smile touched her lips. The innocence of a child mingled with the nascent poise of a young lady from a distinguished family, drawing curious glances.

"Yes, Great-Grandfather," she replied clearly, slowly lifting her skirt as she entered the Hall of a Thousand Treasures. Being a child still, her eyes, as she surveyed the surroundings, were filled with astonishment.

Wang Tongye held her hand and walked straight toward Qi Yue's room.

However, Qi Yue was not there; she was in the adjacent room observing Liu Pucheng diagnose a patient.

"Elder Master Wang, why have you come?" she asked with a smile upon seeing Wang Tongye, immediately inviting him in.

This woman showed no sign of awkwardness regarding the recent matchmaking discussion; she was as composed as ever.

Wang Tongye nodded in satisfaction; he knew he hadn't misjudged her.

"I haven't come for a consultation," he chuckled, taking a seat.

Qi Yue personally went out to order tea.

"And who is this beautiful young lady?" she asked curiously, looking at the little girl sitting quietly beside Wang Tongye.

Wang Tongye was about to introduce her when the little girl stood up on her own accord.

"Replying to Madam, I am the young lady of the Wang family, my childhood name is Qiao'er, and my father is Wang Qian," she stated, her voice childlike yet carrying the dignified air of someone raised in a noble household, accompanied by a slight bow.

Truly the child of a wealthy and powerful family; her upbringing was evident at a glance.

In contrast, Qi Yue felt she lacked that refinement.

"Hello, hello," she quickly replied with a smile, then looked at Wang Qiao'er again. "You are truly beautiful, just like your father."

Wang Qiao'er turned her apricot-shaped eyes toward her.

"Then, Madam, are you saying my father is very handsome?" she inquired.