Aruru stood under the eaves holding the clothes, leaning the folded umbrella against the wall. "My lady," she called softly first, "I've brought them." "Bring them in." Qi Yue's voice sounded.

Only then did Aruru step forward to the door and enter. The atmosphere inside the room was as quiet as when she had left; Qi Yue was seated in a chair, leaning against the table, slowly turning the pages of a book.

Chang Yuncheng sat by the small bed, his head bowed, wrapped in a quilt. Wrapped in a quilt?!

Aruru was a little surprised. "It rained, I got cold," Qi Yue replied, looking down but seemingly noticing her astonishment.

Oh... cold...

it... it is a bit cold.

Aruru placed the clothes by the bedside. "Young Master, this servant will help you change..." she said.

"No need, you go out," Chang Yuncheng said, raising his head from its downward gaze. "Who are you calling servant?" Qi Yue interjected from the side, with a hint of displeasure.

Got it. Aruru acknowledged the order and turned to leave.

Chang Yuncheng watched the clothes by the bed, listening to the sound of turning pages from over there, and did not move. "Put them on, hurry up and leave," Qi Yue commanded, lowering her hand to look over.

"You, you..." Chang Yuncheng looked at her, gritting his teeth as he spoke. "Me what?

Are you afraid of me seeing you now? Are you afraid I'll molest you?" Qi Yue said quietly, irritably.

Chang Yuncheng’s face flushed, remembering the earlier incident. He threw off the quilt, pulled aside the half-draped cloth covering him, and began dressing right there, naked, pulling on the garments.

Qi Yue watched him the whole time, using a feather pen to lightly trace her temple, squinting as if admiring a beautiful scene. Every muscle in Chang Yuncheng’s body tensed.

He fumbled hurriedly to put on the clothes—partly because they weren't his, and partly due to nervousness, wanting to dress quickly, yet moving painfully slowly. He finally managed to dress, breaking out in a sweat, causing the clean clothes to immediately cling to his skin again.

"I'm leaving," he mumbled, head lowered, and started toward the exit. "Hey," Qi Yue called out to stop him.

Chang Yuncheng paused. "Your hat, and take an umbrella," Qi Yue instructed.

"You’re this old and still getting drenched in the rain; you did it on purpose, didn't you?" Chang Yuncheng’s neck instantly turned crimson. He whipped around and charged back.

Qi Yue was startled by the sudden advance and instinctively leaned back. "I did it on purpose, so what?" he ground out, his voice deep and heavy.

Qi Yue looked at the man, clearly infuriated by embarrassment. "Doesn't change anything.

I was just saying," she replied, blinking. Chang Yuncheng felt as if his ears were on fire.

Having been tortured by longing for so long, he had almost forgotten that this woman’s tongue could truly drive a person mad. Tongue...

His gaze dropped to her mouth. Perhaps from the recent kiss, it appeared swollen and rosy...

"You..." Qi Yue began to speak. The moment she opened her mouth, Chang Yuncheng lunged forward and covered it with a heavy kiss.

He then spun around and dashed out. Qi Yue hadn't quite regained her composure.

"Young Master, the umbrella!" Aruru’s shout from outside rang out. Qi Yue snapped back to reality and slapped the table.

That boy... Aruru entered.

"The Young Master left without his hat or umbrella; he'll surely fall ill from the rain on the way back," she said, her face full of worry. Then she looked at Qi Yue, her gaze scrutinizing, "What did you do to him now?" What did I do to him?

Qi Yue glared. Again!

"I'm just a woman, what could I possibly do to him? Molest him?" she retorted, glaring back.

Clearly, he was the one who had molested me... and I hadn't even run away yet...

Aruru looked at her, then smiled faintly and moved closer. Aruru's smile made Qi Yue uneasy, and she leaned back slightly, guarded.

"Did you... really molest him?" Aruru asked in a low chuckle, punctuating her question with a small cough.

"How did you... molest him?" Qi Yue looked at her, then suddenly reached out and grabbed Aruru under the armpit.

"Like this is how I molested him!" she cried. A string of squealing laughter erupted from Aruru inside the room, the sound of women’s lighthearted teasing drifting out into the misty rain.

Meanwhile, at the Dingxi Marquis Residence, Chang Yuncheng banged on the gate. He looked like a drowned rat, wearing clothes less respectable than those of a stable boy.

The gate guard almost mistook him for a beggar until he saw the man rushing towards the house and prepared to raise his club; luckily, Chang Yuncheng managed to raise his face just in time. "Oh, my Lord, why have you returned like this?" the gate guard exclaimed in shock.

Chang Yuncheng offered a strained smile to the guard, said nothing, and rushed straight inside. His steps grew faster, leaping down the steps in a few bounds, vanishing into the rain.

The gatekeepers and the rest stood there dumbfounded. "I heard if you get severely drenched, water gets into your brain..." one young servant mumbled.

Before his words fully left his mouth, the elder gate guard smacked him on the head. "Your brain is what's filled with water!

Scram! Hurry and close the gate!" The Marquis of Dingxi soon learned of Chang Yuncheng’s return.

He immediately abandoned listening to Concubine Zhou play the zither and rushed to find him. Chang Yuncheng’s courtyard had returned to its previous state—few attendants, perhaps two or three maids.

Due to the rain, the Marquis only spotted a frantic maid who hurried to greet him when he reached the doorway. The Marquis pushed the door open.

"Why are you..." he began, raising his voice to shout as he scanned the room. Then he saw Chang Yuncheng lying prone on the bed, his head buried in the pillow, occasionally pounding the mattress with his fist.

The scolding words instantly evaporated. "Yuncheng, what is wrong?" "The Lord has arrived," the maid’s announcement sounded late.

Chang Yuncheng quickly sat up. "Father," he called out, a touch of awkwardness in his voice.

The Marquis studied him: damp clothes, flushed face, eyes bright. "Yuncheng, you aren't ill, are you?" he asked in alarm, reaching out to feel Chang Yuncheng's forehead.

The touch confirmed it was scorching hot. "Quick, quick, go fetch Yue Niang!

Yuncheng is sick!" The Marquis didn't ask another question, turning immediately to rush out, as if his ailing son were waiting outside for his comfort. Chang Yuncheng didn't even get a chance to say, "Father, I'm not sick." Outside the courtyard, the Marquis’s loud cries echoed.

"...Quick, quick... you go personally..." "Ah, Yuncheng is sick!

This is no small matter!" Listening to him, one sensed more excitement and eagerness than simple worry, as if he had been waiting for this day for a long time. Chang Yuncheng stared blankly for a moment, then smiled, throwing himself back onto the covers.

"Young Master, you should wash up quickly; the water is ready," Quezhi said respectfully, a touch of concern in her tone. "If you really fall ill like this, Madam Qi will certainly worry." Chang Yuncheng sat up.

"She will worry?" he asked. This was the first time since the Young Master divorced his wife that she had looked at Quezhi properly, making the maid’s eyes shine with excitement.

"Of course, she will definitely worry," she hastily affirmed. Worry, perhaps she would worry...

But although that woman seemed stiff on the surface, she was actually soft-hearted; she would probably worry even if she saw a kitten or puppy sick... Besides, even if she did worry, the feeling would be more of gratitude toward me.

Thinking this, he felt a wave of dejection, letting out a sigh. If I truly want what's best for her, I shouldn't let her worry...

He rose gloomily and headed toward the washing room. In his daze, a pair of soft little hands reached for his waist, untying the wet garments clinging to his skin...

Quezhi blushed deeply, barely managing to keep her hands from trembling. As soon as she unfastened the sash, she was roughly pushed away.

"Young Master... this servant...

will serve you..." she managed to say, trembling despite her rising panic. "Get out," Chang Yuncheng snapped impatiently.

Quezhi retreated, her face a mixture of shame and embarrassment. Outside, under the eaves, Qiu Xiang was cracking melon seeds, and she spat when she saw Quezhi emerge.

"It's nothing. A few slaps to the face, and you'll get used to it eventually," she said coolly.

Quezhi’s face flushed red and white, and she lowered her head to leave. "Hey, by the way, did you hear?" Qiu Xiang called after her.

"Everyone calls Aruru 'Jade Lady' now." "Jade Lady?" Quezhi turned back, confused. "They say she's a celestial maiden from Guanyin Bodhisattva’s retinue who descended to the mortal world, so they respectfully call her Jade Lady," Qiu Xiang chuckled.

"We women don't understand the details, but we know that the men scrambling to marry her now aren't just anyone—it's all the great aristocratic families, fighting to make her their principal wife." Quezhi’s face was a mask of surprise. "How is that possible?

She, she’s just from a servant background..." she blurted out anxiously. "How is it possible?" Qiu Xiang laughed while cracking seeds.

"She's incomparable to the others. I hear the capital has women physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy who served the nobility in the palace.

Once they are released, not only ordinary families but even the dukes and marquises will compete to bring them into their households. You can’t find medical women just anywhere." Quezhi bit her lower lip.

"She's not from the palace," she huffed, turning and walking away. Qiu Xiang pouted.

"Madam Qi had a great merit this time; her day for an imperial reward or placement in the Imperial Academy isn't far off," she called out. Quezhi hurried away, but the last sentence still reached her ears.

She refused to believe it! She absolutely refused to believe it!

How could Aruru be doing so well! If she were doing that well...

I'm so much cleverer; if it were me, I would certainly have done much better than her... Not end up suffering such humiliation like now...

Quezhi stamped her foot, covered her face with her hands, and ran off. After the rain, the weather grew slightly cooler.

As September arrived and the summer heat receded, life in the Yongqing Prefecture gradually returned to normal, accompanied by the footsteps of autumn. Although there were many new graves outside the city walls, the living still had to carry on.

The soldiers patrolling the streets had withdrawn, replaced by local constables. Along with the soldiers, some people riding in prison carts also departed.

While the epidemic prevention measures were underway, the strict investigations by the higher-ranking government officials were also proceeding. Although it was a natural disaster, it was believed that such disasters occurred because people's moral character was flawed, angering the Heavens, thus bringing down punishment.

Consequently, with so many common folk dead, someone with poor character naturally had to take the blame. Deciding this was easy, as, without question, all accusations were leveled against Wang Qingshun, the Medical Judge of Yongqing Prefecture.

The charge of dereliction of duty was inescapable. In fact, the moment the plague broke out, the Vice Magistrate had already ordered Wang Qingshun imprisoned.

Now, with official documents exchanged, his guilt was finalized and handed over to the Governor's Yamen for investigation. Besides Wang Qingshun facing deserved punishment, the Prefect, Huang Lingshan, was scared half to death.

It wasn't clear who had also lodged a secret complaint against him, but if his son, Huang Ziqiao, hadn't put himself front and center in everything, even with his family's connections navigating the capital, he would have found it hard to escape prison. Even so, he was officially reprimanded by his superiors and suspended from duty pending further orders.

A new Prefect had not yet been designated, so the Vice Magistrate temporarily took over the office. However, rumors from above suggested this temporary status was just a transition; this position was virtually guaranteed for the Vice Magistrate.

The Vice Magistrate, feeling refreshed, was preparing to see the soldiers off when news arrived before he even left his residence: the city gates were blocked by the common people. The shadow of the plague hadn't fully dissipated, and now this?

The Vice Magistrate and other officials rushed frantically toward the city gates. Indeed, the city gates were teeming with crowds, blocking the road—or more accurately, surrounding the prison cart that held Wang Qingshun.

"Kneel at the city gate! Kneel at the city gate!" "The verdict is the verdict, but the bet is the bet!" "Even in the prison cart, kneel at the city gate!" Chants echoed throughout the city gate area.