Gu Zhao left the pharmacy and walked a few steps to the consultation room, pushing the door open.
Inside the cramped and simple room, Xie Ze was sitting upright on the narrow bed, seemingly reading.
Not only was his posture proper, but he had also neatly tied his hair, worn a formal outer robe, and his clothes were spotless. Not a hair out of place.
Since meeting him, Xie Ze had always been somewhat careless and carefree, and these past few days, Gu Zhao had been busy with the investigation, leaving him largely unattended. This was the first time Gu Zhao had seen him so well-dressed and orderly.
Seeing Gu Zhao enter, Xie Ze immediately reverted to his usual demeanor, slapping the book closed and leaning lazily against the headboard:
“Cousin, it’s you? I thought it was Miss Zhu.”
Observing others is like observing oneself. Seeing him act this way, Gu Zhao could not help but smirk:
“Miss? Can’t you see her hairstyle? She’s the wife of Zhang Jingyan, the salt merchant, not an unmarried girl.”
Xie Ze’s face turned pale with shock as he suddenly sat up:
“What! Impossible! Ahhhhhh!”
He rose too quickly and pulled at his wound, causing him to fall back onto the bed with a thud. The narrow bed groaned under the impact, and the book he had been reading fell to the floor.
Lying on the bed, Xie Ze covered his face with his hands, utterly devastated:
“Impossible! How did I not notice? Was I blind? Ahhhhhh! Cousin, my heart is shattered, it hurts so much!”
It wasn’t that he was deaf or blind—simply that at their first meeting, she had already worn the adult woman’s hairstyle. Despite all these obvious clues, he had been completely oblivious. Every time he met her, it was as if he had lost all sense of mind, unable to see or think clearly.
Gu Zhao picked up the fallen book, revealing a peculiar alchemy diagram. With just a few simple strokes, it conveyed the essence of the apparatus—it was exactly like the one she had just used.
The late emperor had been obsessed with alchemy, but the current emperor despised it and had even executed numerous charlatan alchemists. In the capital, very few still practiced alchemy, so Gu Zhao had originally planned to warn her to put these things away.
But the atmosphere had been awkward, and she had clearly ordered him out, so Gu Zhao let the topic drop.
Flipping forward, he noticed the characters “Epidemic” written on a page, followed by a few lines in fine script outlining key points for epidemic prevention.
Gu Zhao’s eyes narrowed. Epidemics were heavenly punishments— even the former emperor, despite his supreme status, had failed to prevent them, unable to save loved ones despite issuing self-punishing edicts. Who dared write a book claiming epidemics could be treated?
The author was either a charlatan or a divine doctor.
Turning to the cover, it read:
“Treatise on All Diseases”
Flipping through, the first half contained prescriptions and treatments for various illnesses, while the latter half was blank.
An unfinished book—delving too deeply could be dangerous.
Gu Zhao placed it back on the table and picked up another book, titled:
“Herbal Compendium”
Flipping through, richly illustrated, it was also unfinished. Unlike the previous simple sketches, each herb was carefully drawn and colored: green leaves, red flowers, black fruit, detailed and lifelike.
Gu Zhao asked Xie Ze:
“Where did these books come from?”
Still clutching his chest in heartbreak, Xie Ze weakly replied:
“Miss Zhu wrote them for her two apprentices to study. I borrowed them to take a look.”
She wrote them!
Gu Zhao, who had just placed the book back, immediately picked up Treatise on All Diseases again, flipping through with a neutral expression:
“I didn’t know you were interested in medicine?”
Xie Ze, utterly despairing, muttered:
“Cousin, you know me. Do I seem like someone capable of such serious work? I’m only interested in the author. After searching for eighteen years, I finally found the one in my heart… and she’s already married! Oh, heavens, how unfair! Eternal regrets, thousands of sorrows!”
Gu Zhao thought to himself that this young marquis exaggerated things—he understood nothing of the world. The Marquis of Anyuan was a cunning figure in court, yet he had a son who so openly declared his every emotion.
Too blunt, almost unreal.
Gu Zhao not only refrained from comforting Xie Ze but added insult to injury:
“The Marquis of Anyuan sent a letter. People from the Xie family are on their way. By the dates, they should arrive in the next few days to take you home.”
Xie Ze, upon hearing this, nearly fainted on the spot, muttering:
“Done for… taking the battlefield wounded back home, can’t escape… the old man will have me flogged! No, I must think of a plan—back home I’ll claim I met my true love in Yangzhou and refuse any other bride. No, no, that risks involving others… ah! I know! I’ll spread a rumor in the capital that my injury affected my vitality, who would dare marry me? Ahhhh! Brilliant! So clever! Ah! Miss Zhu is here!”
Zhu Qingyu, who had come to change Xie Ze’s dressing, hesitated upon seeing Gu Zhao at the door.
Their last encounter had been tense, even awkward, and involved a slightly delicate topic, making this meeting uncomfortable.
While Zhu Qingyu considered whether to wait until Gu Zhao left, Xie Ze called her in.
She entered and addressed him:
“Xie Gongzi, it’s time to change your dressing. Is the wound still very painful today?”
Usually lively and talkative, Xie Ze became a man of few words in front of her:
“Painful.”
Zhu Qingyu placed the medicine aside, signaling him to lie down:
“Strange… the stitches have been removed, yet it still hurts. Let me take another look.”
Gu Zhao, leaning against the table with the medical book, remained silent as she worked.
Seeing Xie Ze expose his wound, Gu Zhao glanced at him, an inscrutable expression crossing his face.
Xie Ze blushed as Zhu Qingyu leaned close, removing the gauze, and even instinctively bent one leg, barely holding back a gasp.
Feeling Gu Zhao’s subtle gaze, Xie Ze became embarrassed, face turning red, ears flushed, and he corrected himself:
“Not so painful… just occasionally.”
Zhu Qingyu removed the gauze completely, examining the wound:
“That’s good. It seems to be healing well, scabbed over. After today, no more dressing changes are needed.”
Before Xie Ze could speak, Gu Zhao said:
“In that case, Xie Ze, you’ll return with me today. Staying here affects Madam Zhu’s ability to run her clinic.”