The Marquis of Dingxi poked his head in from the doorway, but before he could get a clear look, Zhou Maochun flung a teacup at him.

“You surnamed Chang! Don't force me to throw you out!” he shouted, hopping slightly on his feet.

The Marquis of Dingxi chuckled, waving his hands hastily.

“I meant no offense, I just wanted to see if Yue Niang would like some tea. It’s from Yongqing Prefecture; perhaps she’s accustomed to the taste.”

He spoke while glancing towards Qi Yue inside the room.

“Tea? Don’t be ridiculous, Yue Niang doesn’t drink tea!” Zhou Maochun yelled.

The Marquis of Dingxi didn't seem annoyed, maintaining his cheerful demeanor.

“Alright, alright, you two carry on with your conversation,” he said, stepping back.

Zhou Maochun’s beard bristled, his eyes bulging with anger.

“No wonder you wanted a divorce. Having an in-law like that father-in-law is utterly humiliating!” he exclaimed.

Qi Yue smiled as she poured him tea, offering no comment.

“Godfather, you really should go and see Mrs. Chen’s illness,” she said. “I don’t think she’s doing well.”

Zhou Maochun grunted in assent.

“Yue Niang,” he began after a moment of contemplation, “there’s an old saying: you can treat the illness, but not the fate. I suspect Mrs. Chen’s affliction is one of fate, not just malady.”

What? Qi Yue was taken aback by his words. How could Godfather say that? Her own father had once uttered the same phrase, only to be soundly criticized by her for it.

“Godfather, let’s not resort to such idealism…” she chuckled.

“Idealism? What is that?” Zhou Maochun asked.

Qi Yue rubbed the tip of her nose.

“Nothing, Godfather. Let’s examine the patient first before making any judgments,” she suggested.

Zhou Maochun hummed an acknowledgement.

“So, idealism means I speak wishfully without even looking at the patient?” he teased, a hint of mockery in his tone.

“No,” Qi Yue quickly laughed, “No, Godfather. Your medical skills are legendary; diagnosing by sensing threads or assessing illness from behind a wall—nothing is beyond you.”

Zhou Maochun laughed heartily.

“Stop talking nonsense,” he said, taking a large gulp of tea. “It’s like this. You understand what treating the illness, not the fate, means, Yue Niang. A person’s body sends out warnings when something is wrong, and the person senses it too. If Mrs. Chen refuses treatment, or if she’s not truly ill—meaning there’s no need for treatment, or perhaps she simply doesn't want to be cured…” He paused, looking up at Qi Yue.

“Her very being is rejecting the medical intervention. Even if medicine is prescribed, one, she won't take it, and two, if she does, it won't work.” He concluded. “What you need to do now is not rush to call a physician, but first go and persuade Mrs. Chen.”

While the conversation unfolded inside, Chang Yuncheng accompanied the Marquis of Dingxi outside. The Marquis was cheerfully watching the servants prepare a small guest room. This room was typically used by the on-duty clerks of the Imperial Medical Academy, and its accommodations were, at best, comparable to an ordinary inn. Since Zhou Maochun practically considered the Academy his home, and the Marquis was determined to show his sincerity by staying with him, the incessantly nagging Zhou Maochun finally relented to secure some peace and quiet.

Chang Yuncheng glanced back at the room and couldn’t help but sigh. Although the Marquis of Dingxi’s estate was far from the capital, it was no less opulent than those of other marquises. Marquis Chang Rong had lived a life of luxury since birth. Especially after developing a taste for refinement, he became meticulously particular about his food, clothing, and daily comforts. This current room was inferior even to the servant quarters at the marquis’s residence, yet the Marquis was choosing to stay here. Watching the Marquis of Dingxi’s contented face, Chang Yuncheng felt a pang of melancholy.

“Father, why don’t you stay at our own residence?” he suggested. Although the Marquis of Dingxi rarely visited the capital, he owned property there.

“Are you foolish?” The Marquis maintained his paternal authority even with his son, glaring at him. “Father, you truly don’t need to go to such lengths. Old Master Zhou understands in his heart; he’ll come around after a while.”

The Marquis of Dingxi snorted. “I call you foolish, and you truly aren't bright,” he retorted. “Of course, I know the old man understands. He’s deliberately making things difficult.” He glanced cautiously toward Zhou Maochun's room as he spoke. “I’m not doing this to show him face; I’m doing it for Yue Niang’s sake.” He lowered his voice, then sighed again. “Now that things have come to this, let’s stop worrying about who looks bad and who doesn’t. As long as we handle this smoothly and settle into a comfortable life, all will be well.”

Chang Yuncheng looked at the Marquis. He was completely unused to this side of his father and wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He stood there, his expression growing increasingly awkward.

Just then, Qi Yue emerged.

The Marquis of Dingxi immediately broke into a broad smile. Noticing Chang Yuncheng’s strange expression, his good humor vanished.

“What is that hideous face you’re making, scaring away ghosts!” He slapped Chang Yuncheng’s shoulder with a low warning tone. “Hurry up and go speak to her properly.” Having shouted, he rushed ahead, paying no mind to his son.

“Yue Niang, let Yuncheng escort you back,” he said cheerfully.

A gruff shout came from inside the room.

“Escort her back? Why? My Yue Niang has been staying alone in the capital for so long, does she need an escort?”

The Marquis ignored the outburst, winked at Chang Yuncheng, and cheerfully stepped into the room himself.

“…In-law, what would you like for lunch? I brought a chef. Last time was so rushed, you didn’t get to taste the delicacies from our Yongqing Prefecture. This time, I specifically brought a chef for you.”

“…I say, Marquis of Dingxi, you really have some nerve! You brought a chef for yourself, didn’t you? I’m not a three-year-old child!… Also, what did you just call me? Who authorized you to call me in-law? Watch your tone…”

Listening to the bickering from inside, Qi Yue smiled at Chang Yuncheng.

“Let’s go, coachman,” she said, nodding her head.

Chang Yuncheng smiled and lightly tapped her head. “Are you heading home first, or are you going to inquire about that matter with Hu San?” he asked, reaching out to help her into the carriage.

Qi Yue grabbed his hand and pulled him closer.

“What are you doing? Trying to shake me off and go home this early?” she asked, feigning wide-eyed surprise.

Chang Yuncheng froze for a moment, then looked at her with disbelief.

“Actually, Godfather was wrong,” Qi Yue said, wrinkling her nose and smiling. “I’m completely unfamiliar with the capital. Even though I’ve been here for about half a month, I haven’t gone anywhere.”

Chang Yuncheng looked at her. “And you? Have you ever visited here for leisure?” Qi Yue inquired.

Visited for leisure? Chang Yuncheng shook his head. “Every time I come, it’s a rush. I can never remember what there is to see or do,” he admitted.

“Then shall we take a walk around?” Qi Yue asked sweetly.

Chang Yuncheng hesitated slightly. “You still have so much to attend to…” he said.

“Silly boy,” Qi Yue smiled at him. “No matter how busy I am, it’s not as important as you.”

There it was again… Chang Yuncheng felt a tingling sensation that spread from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. Where did this woman learn so many honeyed words? It was simply… utterly irresistible!

“If we go this way, we can reach Dajue Temple. I heard the magnolia blossoms are in full bloom,” Chang Yuncheng said, reaching over to take a chubby clay doll Qi Yue was hugging to her chest.

Qi Yue looked up instantly, a piece of sticky cake still in her mouth. “Flowers to admire?” she said, quickly looking around. “Should we buy some snacks to enjoy under the trees while we look at the flowers?”

Chang Yuncheng smiled at the bags hanging heavily from her arm.

“Dajue Temple has vegetarian cuisine,” he said, taking a few more bags from her arm and hanging them on his own already loaded ones. “The vegetarian hall is right next to the magnolia grove; you can see the entire courtyard of flowers from the window, no need to stand foolishly under the trees eating.”

“What’s foolish about that?” Qi Yue retorted. “That’s atmosphere.”

Chang Yuncheng laughed loudly, nudging her with his elbow. “Let’s go, let’s hurry.”

Regrettably, when they arrived at Dajue Temple, the vegetarian dining hall was fully reserved.

“I’ll pay extra,” Chang Yuncheng said, looking embarrassed and slightly irritated. Even the smallest monk in the capital carried a certain air of loftiness.

“Benefactor, the Dharma is equal for all,” the monk stated calmly, nodding with a touch of arrogance before turning to leave. As if! Did they think Dajue Temple was some provincial backwater? Money? It was the sight they saw most often!

Qi Yue smiled and stopped Chang Yuncheng, who was about to argue.

“Who told us to decide on such short notice,” she chuckled. “This just proves their vegetarian food is truly excellent.”

“It’s not that great either. I still think the food at our Great Buddha Temple in Yongqing Prefecture is better,” Chang Yuncheng grumbled resentfully.

“Yes, yes, I’ve had the food at the Great Buddha Temple too. I agree it was exceptionally delicious; I doubt anywhere could surpass it,” Qi Yue said, smiling as she turned Chang Yuncheng around by the arm.

Her words triggered a memory for Chang Yuncheng, bringing back the moment when they could see each other only through a window. His expression momentarily stilled.

“But, we never ate it together,” he murmured.

“Tomorrow. I’ll come early tomorrow and book the whole place,” Qi Yue laughed heartily.

“Showing off your wealth, aren’t you?” she teased, patting his back. The things she was carrying in her hands made a rustling sound, which suddenly reminded Qi Yue. “See? I was insightful enough not to listen to you and throw these things away. Let’s go, let’s go quickly. We can sit on the grass and have a picnic under the flowers.”

Before she finished speaking, Chang Yuncheng abruptly pulled her aside, darting behind a nearby rock formation.

“What is it?” Qi Yue asked, opening her mouth in surprise.

Chang Yuncheng covered her mouth. Assassination? Being followed? Qi Yue’s heart hammered wildly; she clenched her hands tight. Rapid footsteps echoed from the direction of the vegetarian hall.

“…Miss Qi?” Fan Yilin called out loudly.

Li Tong, who was following closely behind, looked left and right outside the door. There were quite a few people, but no trace of that woman.

“Did you hear wrong? Where is Miss Qi?” he said, though he couldn't help but stretch on his tiptoes to scan the area.

“How could I hear wrong?” Fan Yilin insisted. “I heard her laugh. Miss Qi’s laugh is different from others; it’s very pleasant to the ear.”

Li Tong couldn't help but give a small cough.

“Don’t talk like that in front of the Young Lord,” he cautioned.

Fan Yilin huffed. “What about it? Am I afraid of him?” he declared. “I wouldn't even blink if I had to fight him.”

If only you hadn't been beaten senseless until you couldn't blink, Li Tong thought privately, scanning the surroundings again. The area was lush with greenery and bustling with people, but the woman was nowhere in sight.

“Let’s go. You misheard,” he said, patting Fan Yilin’s shoulder with a hint of regret. “Miss Qi must be very busy right now; she wouldn’t have time to come out.”

Fan Yilin lingered unconvinced, walking a few steps along the paths before reluctantly giving up. “I definitely heard her… How could I have misheard…”

Only when the voices faded completely did Chang Yuncheng let out a breath of relief.

“What rotten luck, running into this fellow wherever we go,” he muttered.

Qi Yue, laughing, leaned on his chest with her hands. “That’s wonderful! Since those two are here, and there’s a table inside, perhaps…” she began, but Chang Yuncheng cut her off with a sharp glare.

“Absolutely not!” he exclaimed, then quickly lowered his voice, pulling Qi Yue with him without regard for the path, rushing past the rock formation.

Qi Yue stopped talking, smiling as he pulled her along. Dead, yellowed bamboo leaves shook loose from above, showering them both.