Though named “Lingyaoting” (Spiritual Medicine Pavilion), it was actually a cluster of connected buildings with an expansive courtyard at its center. Stepping through the outer gate, one would see the courtyard filled with all manner of medicinal herbs, like a giant sachet diffusing a gentle fragrance in every direction.
In the courtyard stood a tall apricot tree whose canopy nearly covered the entire space. It was the flowering season, and the tree stood gracefully, adorned with countless blossoms like rouge—flourishing, delicate, and as ethereal as clouds or snow.
As Jinshu stepped into the courtyard, she failed to notice the unusually high threshold underfoot and nearly lost her balance instantly.
In her daze, she spotted a vaguely jade-colored pillar ahead. Panicking, she flung out a hand and clung desperately to that lifesaving straw, hoping to leverage it to avoid landing face-first.
Good news: she indeed did not land face-first.
Bad news: this didn’t seem to be a pillar.
The “pillar” she clung to wasn’t thick and had a silky texture. Kneeling on the ground, leaning against the “pillar,” Jinshu looked up somewhat dazedly.
A breeze swept up scattered apricot petals, and amidst the flurry of blossoms, Jinshu caught sight of a face as exquisite as a painting. The youth’s features were youthful and refined, his skin like cool jade. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his amber eyes held a hint of aloofness and weariness. Though it was a face both beautiful and handsome, it also revealed an almost exaggerated sickliness.
The youth seemed to have been conversing with someone before being abruptly interrupted. He slowly lowered his head to look at her, his jet-black hair cascading down, framing his face and casting faint shadows.
His gaze swept over Jinshu’s face, then paused slightly when it landed on her hand clutching the hem of his robe. Jinshu quickly withdrew her hand.
The youth smiled, his peach-blossom-like eyes narrowing.
“What happened to you, junior sister?” Bu Quegan, who had been speaking with the youth, helped Jinshu to her feet. “How did you end up falling like this?”
Jinshu ignored his question and instead grabbed the youth’s sleeve, demanding, “Well, well, so you’ve been hiding here! I waited for you at Rear Mountain for days, you liar!”
Bu Quegan asked curiously, “Why are you interrogating him like a criminal so urgently, junior sister?”
Jinshu said bitterly, “You don’t know—I had an appointment with him, but he didn’t keep his word and left me there alone, making me wait for nothing!”
Chen Fuzhou was taken aback. “Didn’t I leave you a note?”
Jinshu met his gaze; he didn’t seem to be lying.
“It was under the rock by the lake.”
Someone chuckled, “I watched this girl for two days. She wandered around the lake, touching this and flipping that, but she never once checked under those rocks.”
Everyone turned to see Old Man Fei, who had recently appeared at Rear Mountain, leaning against the courtyard gate.
Yan Lin asked in surprise, “That’s such a long way. How did you get here, old sir?”
“I enjoy taking walks,” Old Man Fei replied with a smile.
Bu Quegan patted Jinshu’s shoulder. “Junior brother brought a cat injured by a spirit beast a couple of days ago and hasn’t left the Spiritual Medicine Pavilion since.”
Chen Fuzhou added, “That hawksbill cat was accidentally bitten that night and was on the brink of death. I had to leave a note to reschedule our meeting. Who knew you wouldn’t see it?”
Jinshu flushed and quickly changed the subject. “Is it alright? Where is it? I want to see.”
Bu Quegan pointed at the house, then looked up toward the back. “Got injured again?”
Yan Lin pulled Li Xingdao forward and said bluntly, “No tattling.”
The three of them headed toward the house. Jinshu, eager to escape the awkward situation, was about to follow when Chen Fuzhou let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
Just as Jinshu lifted her foot to follow, a hand grabbed her sleeve and held her back.
“Senior Sister.”
“Hmm?”
“This.” Chen Fuzhou raised his hand. His gold-threaded, water-patterned cuffs were adorned with several pearls, but they were now tangled with a bright yellow ribbon. “Is this yours, Senior Sister?”
Jinshu immediately recognized it as the hair ribbon she had hastily tied around her hair earlier. Subconsciously, she reached behind her head, only to find her long hair completely loose. Unaware of whether her appearance was still presentable, she flushed with embarrassment. “It must have come off just now.”
She reached out to untangle the ribbon from his sleeve, but the ribbon seemed to have a mind of its own, twisting into a messy knot. As beads of cold sweat formed on Jinshu’s forehead, the tangle only grew more complicated.
Watching her struggle from above, Chen Fuzhou thought her plump cheeks looked puffed up, like a freshly steamed white bun.
A slender, well-defined hand pressed against the sleeve and gave a gentle tug. The entire ribbon fell into Jinshu’s palm. Her attention was completely captured by those hands, which felt oddly familiar for no apparent reason. Just as she instinctively wanted to take another look, Chen Fuzhou had already withdrawn his hands, letting them hang at his sides.
The apricot rain dampens the sleeves, the willow breeze brushes the face without chill.
The apricot rain grew heavier, and within moments, snow-white petals had settled on both their clothes and hair. Jinshu shook her head, picked up the ribbon, and with a pained expression, tried once more to tie up her hair.
It wasn’t that she was clumsy—it was just that she had never used the kind of hair ribbon people here wore, making the task particularly awkward. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have slipped off so easily with just a light brush.
Seeing her small face scrunched up in frustration, Chen Fuzhou asked softly, “Would you like some help?”
Before Jinshu could process what kind of help he meant, Chen Fuzhou took the ribbon from her hand, moved behind her, and gently gathered her waist-length hair.
His cool fingers brushed against her warm earlobe, causing Jinshu to shiver. She quickly spoke up to stop him. “No need, I can manage on my own.”
Chen Fuzhou’s hands didn’t stop moving. “Little Senior Sister, stay still.”
Hearing this, Jinshu actually obediently lowered her hands.
“With just a ribbon, I can’t style a beautiful hairdo for Little Senior Sister,” the young man’s apologetic voice came from behind. Jinshu reached back to feel her hair.
A neat and tidy ponytail—much better than the loose, messy one she had managed herself.
“It’s fine, this is perfect. Thank you,” she turned around, looked up, and smiled sincerely.
“Ahem, ahem, ahem.”
Only then did Jinshu remember Old Man Fei, whom she had neglected for quite some time.
He stepped forward and asked kindly, “And who might this young friend be?”
The smile on Chen Fuzhou’s face faded slightly, polite yet distant. “I am Chen Fuzhou. Like Senior Sister, I am a disciple of Xuanqing Zhenren.”
The old man chuckled. “I see. And the one who went inside?”
Jinshu answered, “That’s the eldest senior brother, named Bu Quegan. He’s the direct disciple of your old friend.”
“The disciples of your Tianxuan Sect all seem to be talented young individuals. Would you like to come inside and see your cat?”
Jinshu responded with a “Yes” and walked into the house.
He followed behind her, smiling as he stroked his chin. Chen Fuzhou trailed a step behind, his gaze coldly sizing up the seemingly ordinary old man.
This scrutiny was not particularly concealed, so it was no surprise when it was noticed. Old Man Fei slowed his pace slightly, turned his head, and said somewhat helplessly, “No need to stare at me like that. I’m not a bad person.”
The wind that had been blowing for a long time had now stopped. Inside the house, the sound of clattering and rummaging could be heard. Outside on the corridor, the shadows of lanterns from the eaves were etched onto the wooden floorboards. Both of them were enveloped in the shadows, yet their boundaries remained distinct.
Chen Fuzhou was no longer wearing that innocent and pitiable expression. His face was icy, tinged with suspicion and curiosity. The old man indeed showed no abnormalities, yet an innate talent made him feel as though the person before him was like a whirlpool—mysterious and unknown, impossible to fathom.
Old Man Fei remarked playfully, “Your surname is Chen, right? You must be a child of the Lihun Chen Family?”
Chen Fuzhou’s expression shifted slightly. The old man explained, “No need to be so alarmed. Who doesn’t know of the Lihun Chen Family? Your appearance and demeanor clearly mark you as a scion of a prominent family. I merely guessed based on your surname, and it seems I happened to guess correctly.”
At that moment, Jinshu’s voice came from inside the house, perfectly timed: “Senior Brother, be careful! You’re being too rough—you’ll hurt it. It’s still just a kitten!”
“Don’t worry, I’m being very gentle,” came the reply. The curtain covering the inner room’s door was lifted, and Bu Quegan poked his head out, urging, “Junior Brother, why haven’t you come in yet? The cat is fine now. I’ll fetch what you need.”
Chen Fuzhou tightened his fingers, withdrew his probing gaze fixed on the old man, quickened his pace, and stepped into the house first.
When Chen Fuzhou pushed open the door, the tortoiseshell cat was lying in his junior sister’s arms, panting heavily with its tongue out, looking particularly uncomfortable.
His junior sister, meanwhile, was examining its wounds with a deeply worried expression, her large eyes filled with pity.
Seeing him enter, Bu Quegan looked up from his busy work and said, “Junior Brother, have a seat. Wait here while I go to the back to fetch what you need.”
Chen Fuzhou smiled and replied, “Thank you for your trouble, Senior Brother.”
Bu Quegan pushed open another door in the room, and his voice faded into the scent of medicinal herbs: “It’s no trouble. It’s just that you came early this month, so I’ll have to prepare one of the medicines for you now.”
Jinshu asked with concern, “Junior Brother, what’s wrong with you?”
Chen Fuzhou extended his fingers to the cat’s mouth, teasing it as he answered, “It’s nothing serious. I’m just not in the best health and need to take medicine regularly to recover slowly.”
No wonder he always looked somewhat lifeless—it turned out he was here to pick up medicine. Jinshu nodded solemnly and said, “You do seem rather frail. Was that why you were in seclusion for so long?”
“Yes, I’ve improved quite a bit recently.”
Old Man Fei stepped into the house and, hearing Chen Fuzhou’s words, added, “I think it would be better if you didn’t wander around outside with that condition of yours.”
Jinshu glanced at Old Man Fei in surprise. Did these two know each other before? She then turned to look at Chen Fuzhou.
Chen Fuzhou looked up at Elder Yan, a faint trace of barely perceptible hostility in his gaze, yet upon sensing Jinshu’s glance turning toward him, he flashed her a smile. “It’s not that serious.”
As he spoke, Bu Quegan placed a thick stack of medicine on the table, advising Chen Fuzhou, “Your condition has improved a bit now, so you can reduce the dosage. Two doses a day will suffice.”
Chen Fuzhou acknowledged with a nod, then turned to ask Jinshu, “Do you have anything else to attend to, Senior Sister? Would you like to return with me?”
Jinshu gently stroked the fluffy fur of the cat in her arms. “Nothing much, but I’m still a little worried about it. It’s injured so badly—what if it gets bullied by other spirit beasts again after we return?”
She lifted the cat in her arms slightly. “How about I take it back to my courtyard?”
Chen Fuzhou picked up the cat. “Stop pretending to be pitiful here. You’re clearly fine now, aren’t you?”
The cat let out a soft, plaintive meow.