Shen Qingqing rubbed her eyes, and the last traces of sleepiness vanished at once. She quickly put on her clothes and followed Moqin toward the main room. Her short legs moved as fast as they could, afraid that she might delay the administering of the medicine.
Inside the main room of Qingyuan Pavilion, Physician Wu was sitting beside the bed, taking Lu Chengyu’s pulse. When he saw Shen Qingqing enter, he nodded at her, rose, and moved aside, handing her a steaming bowl of medicine. “You try.”
Shen Qingqing stepped forward and took the bowl. The warmth passed through the bowl’s walls into her palm, while the medicinal liquid gave off a strong bitter smell. She walked to the bedside and sat down gently, then picked up the small spoon and scooped up a spoonful of medicine. She blew lightly on it beside her lips until it was no longer scalding, then brought it to Lu Chengyu’s lips.
The medicine trickled down from the corner of his mouth. He did not react at all; he had not swallowed.
Shen Qingqing did not panic. She scooped up another spoonful and tried again, but it still flowed back out.
After thinking for a moment, she set down the spoon and gently pinched Lu Chengyu’s cheek with her small hand, making his mouth open slightly. Then she slowly poured the medicine from the spoon into his mouth, feeding it to him bit by bit.
This time, he swallowed it.
Shen Qingqing breathed a sigh of relief and continued feeding him one spoonful at a time. Her movements were gentle yet steady, and her brows and eyes were filled with concentration. She did not look like a six-year-old child at all.
Physician Wu stood to the side and watched, his eyes full of astonishment. This child’s method of feeding medicine was even more practiced than that of the maids in the residence. She was neither hurried nor flustered, and handled every detail with remarkable precision.
It took a full quarter of an hour to feed him a single bowl of medicine. Only then did Shen Qingqing finish. She set down the bowl, picked up a clean silk handkerchief, and gently wiped the medicine from the corner of Lu Chengyu’s mouth. Her movements were meticulous and tender.
At that moment, Lu Chengyu’s brows actually relaxed slightly, and his breathing became steadier as well.
Physician Wu hurried forward to take his pulse. His fingers rested against Lu Chengyu’s wrist, and after a moment, an incredulous expression appeared on his face.
“M-More stable…” he murmured. “Much steadier than yesterday, and his fever has gone down as well!”
Nanny Zhou, standing nearby, clasped her hands in excitement and murmured, “Amitabha.”
Madam Lu had just hurried over from the main courtyard and happened to hear Physician Wu’s words. “Really? Is Yaner’s pulse stable? Has his fever gone down?”
“Yes, Madam.” Physician Wu nodded emphatically, a smile spreading across his face. “The Young Master’s pulse is far better than yesterday. This method really works!”
Madam Lu looked at the son on the bed, then at Shen Qingqing standing nearby. Tears fell from her eyes once again—this time, they were truly tears of joy. She stepped forward and gently stroked Shen Qingqing’s head.
“Good child, thank you. Thank you for saving Yaner.”
Shen Qingqing stood to the side, looking at the adults who were crying and laughing at the same time, somewhat bewildered. She had only fed him a bowl of medicine, just as her mother had taught her. Why were they so happy?
She looked up at Lu Chengyu on the bed. His face was still pale, but it was no longer flushed red as it had been yesterday. His breathing was somewhat steadier, and he was sleeping more peacefully than before.
She pressed her lips together lightly and thought, As long as this is enough. As long as the Young Master’s illness can get better.
This was her first day at the Lu Family Ancestral Residence, and the first time she had taken care of Lu Chengyu.
And so, Shen Qingqing settled down at the Lu Family Ancestral Residence. During the first few days, she was still somewhat restrained. She did everything with extreme caution, afraid that she might make a mistake and displease someone. Every day, she rose before dawn, quietly put on her clothes, and first went to the main room to check on Lu Chengyu. Then she went to the small kitchen to watch over the medicine stove. Once the medicine had been decocted, she carried it over and fed it to him one spoonful at a time.
She became more and more practiced at feeding medicine.
Lu Chengyu remained unconscious, occasionally muttering a few indistinct words in his dreams, and occasionally drawing his brows tightly together as though he were enduring some kind of pain. Whenever that happened, Shen Qingqing would set aside whatever she was doing, gently take his hand, and whisper, “Young Master Yu, don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
Strangely enough, whenever she spoke, Lu Chengyu’s brows would slowly relax, and his breathing would gradually grow steadier.
Physician Wu came to take his pulse three times a day. Each time he finished, his expression looked a little better.
“His pulse is becoming steadier by the day.” On the morning of the fifth day, he reported this to Madam Lu, who had come to visit. “The fever has gone down considerably as well. At this rate, the Young Master should wake up in a few more days.”
Madam Lu stood beside the bed, looking at her son’s pale little face, no longer flushed with fever. Tears fell from her eyes once more. She turned to look at Shen Qingqing, who was wringing out a handkerchief nearby, her expression complicated.
Over the past few days, she had watched coldly as the six-year-old girl went about her tasks. Feeding medicine, wiping his face, changing the damp cloth on his forehead—she handled everything properly and thoughtfully, without the slightest panic and never uttering a single complaint. Sometimes, when Lu Chengyu began coughing at night, Shen Qingqing was even more alert than the maid assigned to keep watch. She would roll out of the small bed in the eastern side room and run over barefoot.
“Qingqing,” Madam Lu called to her. Her voice was much gentler than it had been a few days earlier. “You’ve worked hard these past few days.”
Shen Qingqing shook her head. She folded the handkerchief she had wrung out into a neat square and gently placed it on Lu Chengyu’s forehead.
“It’s no trouble, Madam. As long as Young Master Yu’s illness gets better, that’s enough.”
As she spoke, her eyes rested on Lu Chengyu’s face, filled with a seriousness beyond her years.
Madam Lu was silent for a moment before saying, “I’ve already had Nanny Zhou make the arrangements. From now on, your daily necessities and expenses will be provided according to the allowances for the Young Madam. If there’s anything you need, just tell Moqin.”
Shen Qingqing obediently nodded. “Thank you, Madam.”
In truth, she did not care about any “Young Madam’s allowances.” She only knew that everything she ate and used now was many times better than what she had had before fleeing the hardships, and that taking care of Young Master Yu was much easier than the work she had done before. She was very satisfied with her life now, except that she occasionally thought of her mother and younger brother.
Looking at her innocent, bewildered appearance, Madam Lu suddenly felt an emotion she could not put into words. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she merely sighed and turned to leave.
Nanny Zhou followed behind Madam Lu. Only after they had left Qingyuan Pavilion did she lower her voice and ask, “Madam, are you really going to have Qingqing become the Young Madam?”
Madam Lu’s footsteps paused slightly, but she did not turn around.
“Let this marriage go ahead for now. Yaner’s illness has not yet recovered, and we would rather believe the Daoist’s words than dismiss them as false.”
Nanny Zhou understood and did not ask any further questions. She answered, “Yes,” then withdrew to make the arrangements.
On the morning of the sixth day, Shen Qingqing carried the bowl of medicine into the main room as usual.
She had just sat down beside the bed, scooped up a spoonful of medicine, and blown on it to cool it when she suddenly noticed Lu Chengyu’s eyelids move.
She froze for a moment, thinking she must have seen it incorrectly, then leaned closer.
Lu Chengyu’s eyelashes trembled like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. Then, slowly and with difficulty, he opened his eyes.
His eyes were dark and bright, like a pool of water in late autumn, carrying the bewilderment and weakness of someone who had just recovered from a serious illness. He stared at the canopy over the bed for a long while, his gaze unfocused, as though he still had not figured out where he was.
Holding the bowl of medicine, Shen Qingqing did not dare make a sound. She simply waited quietly.
After a while, Lu Chengyu’s gaze slowly shifted over and fell upon her face.
He looked at her—a thin, small girl wearing a water-red fine-cloth dress, her hair tied into two little knots with red ribbons. She was not dressed like one of the residence’s maids. She held a bowl of medicine in her hands and was looking at him with a pair of clear black-and-white eyes.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice so hoarse that it was nearly inaudible.
Shen Qingqing started, nearly dropping the bowl of medicine. She hurriedly steadied it and said softly, “Young Master Yu is awake! I’m Shen Qingqing. I came to feed you your medicine.”
Lu Chengyu frowned. He seemed to want to say something, but a fit of coughing interrupted him. He coughed so violently that his entire body trembled, and a sickly flush rose across his pale face.
Shen Qingqing quickly set down the bowl and stepped forward to support his shoulders. She helped him turn onto his side and gently patted his back with one hand, her movements practiced. She had done this too many times over the past few days; she had long since committed it to memory.
After coughing for a while, Lu Chengyu finally recovered. He leaned against the pillow, breathing heavily, and looked at her with several more traces of scrutiny in his eyes.