The car drove into the old city district, an area Song Que rarely frequented.
A century ago, Zhaocheng was mostly composed of houses with blue tiles and white walls, featuring bells carved into the eaves. Although modern architecture has since covered most of the city, this area has been carefully protected. With buildings no taller than three stories, the sky feels vast here, and the atmosphere is thick with the sediment of time.
Aside from long-time residents, the area is home to retirees and young people who enjoy a slow pace of life to regulate their minds and bodies.
The car stopped at the entrance of a long street.
The paved stone road ahead was smooth and glistening, flanked by stalls selling vegetables and snacks. The space was compact and the vibe leisurely. A car driving through would feel like an anomaly.
It had not rained here, but the air held a damp, humid moisture.
Song Que followed Qin Wangye out of the car.
Qin Wangye’s emotions were contained and clean, though his expression was somewhat distant.
“It is just ahead,” Qin Wangye said.
Song Que responded with an “mm,” not asking any questions.
This part of the old city is usually crowded on weekends, but on a workday, it felt just right. Wearing heavy coats, they did not exactly look like corporate elites, but they were exceptionally good-looking. Two or three elderly women sitting on the steps chatting could not help but huddle together and laugh upon seeing Song Que, occasionally letting out local dialect exclamations of “How handsome!”
Song Que’s ears burned as he was stared at.
Qin Wangye noticed it too, turned his head to look at Song Que, and the corners of his mouth lifted. Being attractive is normal, after all.
“Young man,” an elderly woman stopped Song Que and handed him something. “Have some steamed cake.”
It was a corn steamed cake, handmade and smelling sweet and clear.
“Hm?” Song Que was caught off guard. “Thank you, Granny, but I do not need…”
Before he could finish, the warm cake was pressed into his arms.
Song Que could handle hostility and schemes with ease, but he was truly unskilled at dealing with this kind of kindness.
The woman did not mean anything else by it. Her grandson was about Song Que’s age and was also a handsome young man. Seeing Song Que walking from afar with his head lowered, looking so clean, well-behaved, and as if he had made some mistake, she could not help but want to comfort him.
Song Que subconsciously looked at Qin Wangye.
Qin Wangye was already smiling, telling the woman, “You are quite partial, Granny.”
His features were bold and dashing. The woman exclaimed, “Oh my,” and then grabbed another piece of cake for Qin Wangye.
Real estate prices in the old district were not cheaper than in the city. Most of the native elderly here were not short on money; they simply possessed a craft and could not sit idle, so they set up stalls to sell goods.
Qin Wangye accepted with both hands, said “thank you,” and scanned the QR code to pay amid the woman’s high-pitched laughter.
The stall had the price written on it: two yuan per portion.
“Not feeling awkward anymore?” Qin Wangye pulled Song Que to his side. “Eat.”
After saying goodbye to the woman, Song Que walked to Qin Wangye’s side and tasted the cake; it was indeed authentic.
Because of the natural sweetness of the food, Song Que’s gloomy mood dissipated.
He ate quietly and earnestly, bite by bite, while Qin Wangye stole glances at him several times without being obvious.
The two finally stopped in front of a building. Song Que had just finished the cake, and looking up, he saw the words “Jinghui Hall” written on the sign.
Song Que asked, “This is…”
“We are an hour early. Old Man Xue probably has not arrived yet,” Qin Wangye said. “Perfect, let us go inside and drink some herbal tea.”
Song Que remained completely bewildered.
It was not until he stepped over the long wooden threshold that the distinct scent of Chinese medicine pierced his nostrils.
Song Que stood still. “Brother Ye, this is a Traditional Chinese Medicine clinic?”
“Yes. You may not have heard of Old Man Xue, but he is very famous in the industry. Yushuo’s grandfather was friends with him. Because of his advanced age, Old Man Xue stopped accepting patients years ago. Were it not for that connection, even I would not have been able to book an appointment.”
Song Que examined Qin Wangye carefully. “Are you not feeling well, Brother Ye?”
“If I were not feeling well, I certainly would not have brought you along,” Qin Wangye replied.
Song Que felt his heart skip a beat, only to hear Qin Wangye imply, “Just like how you kept things from me.”
Qin Wangye went ahead on his own, explained the situation, and asked an apprentice to brew a pot of herbal tea. This was a standard service here. Passing through the main hall, they found a large courtyard where the bamboo in the fence showed a pale blue hue, ready to resist the winter cold.
Qin Wangye found an unoccupied stone table. No sooner had he sat down than Song Que said, “I did not keep things from you. If you asked, I answered.”
The stone stools were not high, and Qin Wangye sat there with a sense of descending to the commoners, his long legs spread out casually as he looked up at Song Que. “Is that so? Then have you explained today’s matter clearly to me?”
Song Que sat opposite Qin Wangye, and the apprentice brought over the herbal tea.
Qin Wangye expressed his thanks, set the two turned-over cups upright, and poured the tea. It was a clear, golden yellow, free of impurities, with a tea scent mixed with a faint medicinal fragrance.
“Here, warm your hands.”
Song Que took the cup. Perhaps it was because Qin Wangye’s demeanor was so natural that Song Que actually felt like the situation was no big deal.
The rustling of the small bamboo grove was melodious. Coming to the old city today, everything seemed just right.
The tightly sealed door of Song Que’s heart, which hid the past he did not want anyone to know, opened with a clatter under the breeze.
Perhaps it was because the person sitting opposite him was Qin Wangye.
“It is already over,” Song Que said vaguely. “In my earlier years, my mind was unstable, and I inevitably looked at problems from extreme perspectives. Added to the immense pressure, once I eventually obtained what I wanted, I stopped caring. Zhao Guangyuan followed me for three years and betrayed me the moment he could. I just could not understand why.”
Qin Wangye’s expression changed. “That assistant of yours?”
“Yes. Without my consent, he contacted people on Song Hongfang’s side,” Song Que said, his tone carrying a trace of personal emotion. “Even if I were to throw my money into the water, I would not let Song Hongfang benefit.”
After saying this, Song Que felt it might be inappropriate. Would Qin Wangye think he was being too…
“Fair enough,” Qin Wangye nodded, then calmly added, “You are still too soft-hearted. If it were me, Song Hongfang would only be fit to beg on the streets now.”
Song Que asked, “Is that so?”
“The psychological issues… are they really better?” Qin Wangye asked in a low voice.
Song Que answered very decisively, “Brother Ye, I am not that weak.”
There were definitely negative emotions. Once, they could have swallowed him whole, but now they could not.
Song Que had planted roots within his lean frame that could withstand both harsh winter and scorching summer. Those roots would grow and spread, and one day when the branches were lush, those ugly memories would be nothing more than a wisp of passing smoke.
At this moment, looking through Song Que’s clear eyes, Qin Wangye saw that vitality—lying dormant beneath the earth, veins pulsing, ready to be revitalized with a single moment of self-realization.
Qin Wangye could not help but feel his heart tremble.
He had been too overly concerned, so he had almost forgotten—this person was Song Que.
For a moment, Qin Wangye felt his throat tighten. He had been influenced by self-bias and the colored glasses of others, affecting his impartiality. The Song Que he liked had never been someone who would only collapse in the mud and beg for scraps.
This is Song Que.
Qin Wangye swallowed.
What do I do? I like him so much!
Qin Wangye picked up the herbal tea and downed it in one breath. The apprentice organizing medicinal herbs nearby looked over, wanting to say something but stopping, his face filled with admiration.
“Brother Ye?” Song Que asked curiously.
Qin Wangye slammed a fist onto the stone table and spat out, “It is nothing.”
Song Que did not believe it and took a sip himself.
So bitter.
Song Que’s answer was not detailed, but it had touched Qin Wangye’s heart perfectly. There was no need to ask anything further.
“Young man, is there really something wrong with this tea?” Qin Wangye asked, questioning the apprentice after enduring the numbing bitterness on his tongue.
The apprentice replied politely and calmly, “You drank it too fast. To ensure the efficacy of the medicine, nothing was added to mask the bitterness. You need to pair it with our preserved fruit and savor it slowly.”
Qin Wangye pushed the tea cup further away; he could not savor even a drop.
Song Que suppressed a laugh, finding the tea’s fragrance unique, thinking he might take some with him before leaving.
Having unburdened his heart, Qin Wangye was back in high spirits.
Old Man Xue knew of Qin Wangye’s status. Since such a person had come in person, it meant he was truly seeking medical help. After finishing his lecture with his students, he grabbed a textbook on TCM and hurried over, not expecting to see two people upon entering the courtyard.
Neither side had met the other, but with one glance, they guessed who each other was.
“Mr. Qin.” Old Man Xue had white hair and a calm expression.
Qin Wangye bowed slightly. “Good day, Old Man Xue.”
Song Que followed suit. “Good day, Old Man Xue.”
Old Man Xue knew Qin Wangye was seeking treatment for someone else, so he turned to Song Que. With just one look, he said, “Your complexion is pale, and your lung qi is congested. Your sleep quality must be poor. You young people should not carry such heavy burdens on your minds.”
Song Que was a bit embarrassed, but he could only nod. “Yes, I understand.”
Old Man Xue stepped forward. “Follow me.”
The two followed him to his room.
He occasionally performed diagnoses in the outer hall, but the inner room contained a simple single bed. Old Man Xue washed his hands and told Song Que to lie down.
Song Que had never seen anyone so direct.
Qin Wangye pulled him over. “Listen to Old Man Xue.”
Lying down and removing his shoes and socks, Old Man Xue first checked Song Que’s pulse, then frowned to examine the ankle.
Seeing this demeanor, Qin Wangye naturally grew nervous.
“It is nothing serious,” Song Que said.
“Is that so?” Old Man Xue was never merciful to those who were stubborn.
With one needle, Song Que almost could not hold back. If Qin Wangye had not been fast enough to rush forward and hold him down, Song Que might have rolled right off the bed.
It felt as though the needle had not just pierced his flesh, but had broken through his blood to strike precisely at a meridian that had suffered immense abuse. As the hidden illness flared up in resistance, Song Que was the only one suffering under the acute pain.
In just a few seconds, cold sweat poured down Song Que’s forehead.
Qin Wangye was in a half-hugging position, and Song Que gripped his arm tightly. The two were very close.
On the other side, Old Man Xue calmly pulled out another needle, observing them with a piercing gaze that seemed to see through everything, then sneered, “It hurts now? Why did you not do something about it earlier?”
“It is my fault.” Feeling the tremors in Song Que’s hands, Qin Wangye was willing to take the blame for anything right now. “Please be gentle with your needles, gentler still.”
“It is already very gentle,” Old Man Xue said sternly. “It has been dragged out too long, the meridians are obstructed, and you have not been careful. Just endure it now.”
Song Que bit his teeth together tightly. Qin Wangye and Old Man Xue both had to hold his right leg down. With another needle, Song Que could not help but groan. He then felt Qin Wangye’s embrace tighten against him, his cold sweat smearing all over his coat. Beside his ear, he heard Qin Wangye’s low, coaxing voice: “It is okay, it will be over soon.”
If not for Old Man Xue saying, “If it is not treated now, in another ten years, in this kind of rainy weather, he will not even be able to get out of bed,” Qin Wangye would have wanted to take Song Que and head home immediately.
When the needling ended, Song Que was drenched through.
Old Man Xue calmly washed his hands. “Go back and take a hot bath. I will prescribe some medicine; drink it when you get back. Otherwise, with your constitution, you will definitely come down with a cold within three days.”
Qin Wangye asked, “Is that it?”
Old Man Xue glared. “What are you thinking? Today is the start of the first treatment course. One session a week. If things improve, it will be once a month.”
Song Que could not help but sit up. “Once a week?!”
“Afraid? But I think you can endure hardship. With the way you have accumulated this cold and obstruction, it is definitely not going to be comfortable when it flares up.”
Song Que had nothing to say.
He subconsciously looked at Qin Wangye. “Brother Ye…”
“If I have to, I will accompany you for the needling next time,” Qin Wangye said firmly.
Once those words were out, both Song Que and Old Man Xue laughed.
Old Man Xue was hard to hire, but Song Que was sensible enough to distinguish good from bad, no matter how much his scalp was tingling.
“I will definitely come,” Song Que said. “Sorry for the trouble, Old Man Xue.”
“That is more like it.”
Once Old Man Xue left, Song Que refused to let Qin Wangye help, putting on his shoes and socks by himself.
As soon as he stood up, there was none of the pain he had expected; his heavy ankle felt significantly lighter.
“I will buy some valuable herbs for this clinic, and send over some drying racks, herb sieves, and the like. If you eat their food, you will be soft-handed in taking their things; he will definitely be gentler next time.”
Supported by Qin Wangye, Song Que laughed, “If I am to buy, I will buy them myself.”
Qin Wangye’s thoughts shifted. “Save it. There will be a time when you have to return the favor.”