Wen Ning understood why he had suddenly changed his wording. Though she didn’t believe Chen Jinfeng would care who she ate with, she didn’t want to make Wang Cheng’an uncomfortable. So she nodded with a smile.
“Alright.”
Wang Cheng’an couldn’t help glancing at her several more times. Was it his imagination? He had always known Wen Ning was pretty, but in his heart, she had been no more than a little sister. Yet seeing her again now, her beauty seemed to shine outward, her bright smile irresistibly drawing his gaze. Perhaps it was only because he hadn’t seen her in so long.
Suppressing those inexplicable feelings, Wang Cheng’an led Wen Ning and her maid to a nearby bun stall.
Though Wen Ning hadn’t yet tasted the lamb buns, she knew he hadn’t exaggerated—there was already a long line at the stall.
As they joined the queue, Wang Cheng’an asked again the question he had first posed. “Why did you suddenly come to Tongtuo Street today?”
He remembered—the Protector’s residence was not close to Tongtuo Street.
Wen Ning had no intention of telling him her plans. Whether he believed in her medical skills was one thing, but if he heard she intended to earn money publicly, he might not understand why a married woman would expose herself in such a way. So she gave a vague answer about buying things, then changed the subject. “Brother Wang, I’ve heard Shou’an Hall has been thriving these past years. My mother often said you had a gift for business—she was right.”
Wang Cheng’an smiled modestly. “That’s Aunt Zhao’s praise. Shou’an Hall is still run by my father. The credit isn’t mine.”
Before he could finish, his servant Jueming spoke proudly. “Our young master’s excellence speaks for itself! Just recently, when he traveled south to deliver a batch of medicine, he met a distinguished old lady suffering from the summer heat. Thanks to his help, she recovered and was so grateful that she insisted he accompany her back to the capital. Who would have thought she was the matriarch of the Liu Hou family! Madam Han, upon learning our young master was heir to Shou’an Hall, praised him endlessly, saying our pharmacy has worthy successors and will only grow stronger. She even promised to buy medicine from us in the future!”
Wang Cheng’an, embarrassed by his servant’s self‑promotion, scolded with amusement. “Did I tell you to chatter so much?”
Jueming stuck out his tongue.
Wen Ning, however, frowned slightly. She remembered Shou’an Hall had always catered to common folk. The business of officials and nobles had long been monopolized by other large pharmacies. Business was often like war—territory fiercely guarded. The Wang elders had often lamented their inability to serve the capital’s elite, but they would never rashly encroach on another’s domain. Now Wang Cheng’an had, by chance, won the favor of the Liu Hou matriarch. Whether this was a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.
Jueming, still brimming with pride, added, “These past months, Master has been recuperating at home, leaving all of Shou’an Hall’s affairs to our young master. Isn’t that trust and recognition of his ability?”
Wen Ning was startled, quickly asking, “What happened to Uncle?”
Wang Cheng’an smiled and said: “It’s nothing serious. Just the other day, he fell from a horse and injured his left leg. Resting at home for a month or so will be enough.”
Wen Ning let out a breath of relief. “That’s good.”
Her concern was genuine. Just last winter, when Madam Zhao caught a chill, it was Wang Cheng’an’s father, Wang Lin, who personally came to the Wen household to treat her. He had refused to accept any payment for consultation or medicine, and only after Madam Zhao insisted did he agree to take the medicine fee alone.
Seeing her expression, Wang Cheng’an couldn’t help but feel a little dazed.
Jueming, his servant, sighed inwardly. He had followed his young master for many years and knew well the story between him and this Third Miss Wen. Back then, she hadn’t married his master but had instead entered the Protector’s household. A pity, perhaps, but fortunate that his master’s feelings for her had never been romantic. And though her grandfather had been a physician, she herself had no medical skill. When the old matriarch was alive, she had been dissatisfied with this Third Miss Wen, often saying that whoever married their young master should at least understand medicine and pharmacology, so she could help manage the family business.
As they spoke, a sudden commotion rose nearby. At first Wen Ning and the others paid it no mind—until a man’s terrified cry rang out: “Meiniang! Meiniang! Are you alright?! Don’t scare me!”
Wen Ning turned quickly. Not far away, a simple‑looking man was clutching a woman who had her hands pressed desperately to her throat, his face frantic with fear.
Wen Ning’s gaze fell on the woman. Her face was tight with strain, her body writhing in agony in the man’s arms. Her neck stretched desperately, her coughs were weak, her breathing labored—it was painful just to watch. Beside them stood a little girl of seven or eight, surely their daughter, crying loudly in terror.
The crowd around them was equally anxious, voices rising: “She’s choking on food! Heaven help us, hurry, take her to a doctor!”
“But look at her—there’s no time! Choking comes fast and fierce. I once saw a child choke on a bone and die within moments. You can’t wait for a doctor to arrive…”
“Is this the time for idle talk? Look, the child is crying her heart out! Someone run to the nearest medical hall!”
At that moment, someone in the crowd recognized Wang Cheng’an and shouted: “Isn’t that the young master of Shou’an Hall? I just saw him there the other day! He’s a physician himself!”
“Really? Where? Call him to save her!”
They didn’t need to call. The moment Wang Cheng’an saw the woman’s condition, he had already hurried forward. But faced with such peril, his heart pounded. He knew several remedies for choking, but those were only useful when the food hadn’t completely blocked the throat. In this woman’s case, there was no time to fetch herbs, prepare medicine, and wait for her to drink it. Yet he was a physician. Faced with this, he could not retreat. And now that his identity had been recognized, he had even less choice. Still, his hands trembled slightly. He clenched his teeth, stepped forward, and was about to order the crowd to clear space and lay the woman flat—when suddenly a taut, clear female voice rang out: “Make way!”
The next instant, Wang Cheng’an felt himself shoved aside. A familiar slender figure darted past his eyes, making him stare wide‑eyed.
Wen Ning?!
She—she had suddenly pushed him aside and rushed forward. What was she doing?!