In the kitchen, the herb stove was burning brightly, the medicine pot bubbling away and letting off steam, the rich scent of herbs spreading out into the courtyard.
With two sick people in the house, He Jin couldn't manage everything alone, so Li Wan was helping to brew the medicine at the moment.
Wen Xi entered the kitchen and obediently greeted them first: "Sister-in-law, Brother Jin."
Li Wan was gently fanning the fire with a palm-leaf fan. Hearing Wen Xi's voice, she frowned and said, "Didn't Mother tell you to rest well? How come you're up already?"
Wen Xi said awkwardly, "I'm fine. Scholar Yan is awake… Should you go take a look at him?"
He Jin glanced at the sun outside and said, "Judging by the time, he should be waking up about now. Sister-in-law has already finished brewing his medicine—it'll be brought in to him shortly."
The medicine brewing on the stove at the moment was Wen Xi's. Li Wan picked up Yan Feng'an's medicine pot and poured the liquid into a coarse porcelain bowl to cool.
The flavors of the two herbal medicines mingled together, and the bitterness in the kitchen seemed to grow even heavier.
Wen Xi spoke up softly, "Let me take it to him."
Li Wan glanced at his bloodless cheeks: "You're a patient yourself, and you're still thinking of taking care of him?"
"His health matters more. I'm fine."
These words stirred a flicker of puzzlement in He Jin's heart. He had thought the eldest branch's people were yielding enough already, but who knew this family would produce someone even more self-sacrificing.
Thinking of Wen Liu's character, then looking at the honest, simple boy before him, He Jin couldn't help but sigh, "Third Brother is truly blessed to have married you."
Though whether their family's scholar brother would appreciate it was another matter.
Wen Xi was a person dogged by misfortune—what blessing could he have? If it weren't for wanting to win the Yan family's favor and secure his place in this household, why would he endure the discomfort and fear in his heart and eagerly volunteer to wait on Yan Feng'an?
The family had spent so much silver to marry a husband for the third son in the first place precisely so someone could conveniently look after him. Feeding medicine wasn't strenuous physical work, and since Wen Xi was offering so willingly, Li Wan didn't argue with him.
"Then go ahead. Be careful not to burn your hands."
Wen Xi nodded. Once the medicine was no longer scalding hot, he picked up the bowl and carried it to the door of the side room. Just as he arrived, he heard Chen Lanfang's voice from inside.
"My son, are you feeling any better today?"
Yan Feng'an leaned against the head of the bed, his dark eyes gazing at her heavily, his voice soft with a hint of hoarseness: "Much better. Thank you for your concern, Mother."
The simple reply made Chen Lanfang's heart tremble.
It wasn't the first time she had asked this, but it was the first time Yan Feng'an had answered her so calmly.
People long afflicted by illness often develop nasty tempers. Though the rumors outside that their Feng'an went mad and attacked people were exaggerated, they weren't exactly slander either.
Her son's temper had always been somewhat strange, and ever since he'd woken from his fall, he had grown even more volatile and violently irritable. All day long, he was either screaming and shouting, banging his forehead against the wall, or wildly smashing things in the room.
Everyone who came in to bring him medicine or food had suffered at his hands. She and Yan Shichang, the old couple, had no choice—besides the blood-activating, stasis-dispelling decoction, they had the physician prescribe an additional calming medicine as well.
Taken once in the morning and once at night, it left Yan Feng'an drowsy afterward. Even when he occasionally regained lucidity, he could only lie limp and powerless in bed, unable to do those dangerous things anymore.
But this also gave rise to much resentment in him, and whenever his parents and elder brother and sister-in-law kindly came to visit him, they were always met with his cold words.
Hearing Yan Feng'an's respectful answer now, how could Chen Lanfang not be moved?
"Thank heavens, thank heavens. I always said my son would surely get better."
If she had known that the wedding-luck-bringing method was so effective, the family should have arranged it for him much earlier.
With her son's condition clearly improving, Chen Lanfang's attitude toward Wen Xi softened as well, and she reached out to beckon him in from where he was lingering at the doorway.
The medicine in Wen Xi's hands was still steaming. Chen Lanfang took it from him and set it on a stool nearby, saying, "Xiaoxi is a good child. He's sick himself, yet he still hasn't forgotten to take care of you."
In this household, the ones Wen Xi feared most, after his father-in-law and mother-in-law, was Yan Feng'an. When he was mad, Wen Xi feared he would hit people; when he was lucid, he feared he would curse at him. Wen Xi had been humiliated by him far too many times, and the shadow it left on his heart was anything but light.
Sensing that Yan Feng'an's gaze had landed on him after his mother-in-law finished speaking, Wen Xi lowered his head trembling, not daring to meet his eyes, silently praying that Yan Feng'an wouldn't say anything embarrassing in front of his mother.
Yan Feng'an said, "Someone chosen by Mother naturally cannot be wrong."
Wen Xi's heart paused for a moment. Hearing such words from Yan Feng'an's mouth was like the sun rising in the west. Wasn't this the man who despised him most? How could he be echoing his mother-in-law's words?
Could he be speaking sarcastically?
Yan Feng'an's tone was very light, and Wen Xi couldn't read his emotions. Unable to help himself, he raised his head to observe his expression—only to be caught red-handed the moment he looked up.
The two gazes collided, and Wen Xi was so frightened his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He hurriedly lowered his head again.
Yan Feng'an's words also surprised Chen Lanfang. If his expression hadn't been so respectful and sincere, she would have thought he was being passive-aggressive, resenting that the husband she had chosen for him had been swapped.
After all, replacing Wen Liu with Wen Xi had been a decision made by the adults. At the time, her son had been barely conscious and had accepted it almost entirely passively.
Fearing he might repeat his old ways once he recovered, Chen Lanfang said earnestly, "Since you were injured, Wen Liu has never once come to see you of his own accord. Such heartlessness means he is no good match. Now that you've married Xiaoxi, you must always remember that he is your husband. Those improper people must never be thought of again. Do you understand?"
Yan Feng'an looked at Wen Xi, whose head was nearly buried in the ground, and nodded. "I understand."
His words and manner were so obedient that Chen Lanfang had nothing more to say. "You've finally woken up. Let Xiaoxi keep you company and chat with you a while. I won't disturb you two."
Turning to Wen Xi, she added, "By the time Feng'an finishes his medicine, yours should be just about done brewing. Drink your medicine, then you two should rest well, and try to both recover soon."
With those instructions, she left the room.
With others present, Wen Xi could still try to hide himself and minimize his presence. Now that only he and Yan Feng'an remained in the room, no matter how shallow his breathing or how low he hung his head, he still couldn't escape Yan Feng'an's gaze.
This man had clearly said that the sight of him made him sick to his stomach, yet now, for some reason, he kept staring at him.
Wen Xi felt both frightened and awkward. As he sat on the stool and picked up the medicine, his fingers were trembling slightly.
Yan Feng'an took in all his reactions, his gaze narrowing slightly as he said, "You should be turning sixteen this year, shouldn't you? How come you still look so small?"
Wen Xi didn't understand what he meant by "small." Recalling Yan Feng'an's earlier mockery, he figured the man meant that his frame was thin and frail.
Not only had he never gotten enough to eat growing up in the Wen family, he also had endless chores to do every day—it would be strange if his body had grown properly.
Yan Feng'an ate more delicately than ordinary farming families, and everything good in the household went to him first. Even though he was quite thin now, his frame was still tall and imposing. Compared to him, Wen Xi naturally looked small and slight.
This man clearly knew the reason, yet deliberately brought it up to embarrass him. How hateful.
Wen Xi pretended not to have heard. Keeping his head down, he stirred the medicinal soup with a spoon, blew on it twice with his small mouth, and brought it to Yan Feng'an's lips.
After a moment's hesitation, Yan Feng'an slowly opened his mouth. As the medicine went down his throat, his brow, which had just relaxed, furrowed again. "So bitter."
Herbal medicine was never anything but bitter. Wen Xi ignored him, and with lowered brows and downcast eyes, repeated the same motion, spoonful by spoonful, feeding the medicine to Yan Feng'an.
When half was left, Yan Feng'an weakly blocked Wen Xi's hand. "No more."
Whether he drank it or not didn't really matter to him—but what would the Yan family think if they saw?
If he couldn't even manage the small task of serving Yan Feng'an his medicine, would his father-in-law and mother-in-law feel at ease when they found out?
Wen Xi couldn't tell whether Yan Feng'an truly didn't want to drink it or was deliberately making things difficult for him, and said anxiously, "If you don't take your medicine, how will your illness ever get better?"
Yan Feng'an finally raised an eyebrow. "So you're not a little mute after all."
Judging from previous experience, the best approach was to submit meekly and ignore this man. If he talked back, who knew how many ugly words would come pouring out of his mouth.
Wen Xi wanted to glare at him but didn't dare, and could only beg in a small voice, "Please drink the medicine."
Yan Feng'an sighed. "I really am afraid of bitterness. I'm not deliberately making things hard for you."
Was he… explaining himself?
Just as Wen Xi was wondering at this, Yan Feng'an sighed again. "Never mind." He took the medicine bowl from Wen Xi's hands, pinched his nose with one hand, tilted his head back, and drank down the rest of the medicinal soup.
His body was simply too weak, and the medicine was bitter; after finishing it, he coughed violently several times, scaring Wen Xi so much that he had no time to think of anything else—he hurriedly reached out and patted Yan Feng'an's chest to ease his breathing.
After all the commotion, once he had recovered, Yan Feng'an's pale cheeks had gained a touch of color.
A trace of self-mockery appeared on his face as he spoke, still slightly breathless. "I never thought… this body of mine would become so useless."
Wen Xi couldn't help grumbling inwardly: You were always a frail scholar who never did any manual labor, and now you're sick on top of it—it would be strange if your body were in good shape.
He wasn't used to this back-and-forth exchange with Yan Feng'an, and didn't want to stay with him besides, so he racked his brains and squeezed out, "I… I'll go out and get you something to eat."
Yan Feng'an's congee had been simmering on the stove the whole time, and Wen Xi soon returned carrying the food.
Having eaten nothing since the previous night, Yan Feng'an was indeed hungry, but days of medicinal soup had long ruined his appetite, and the bland white congee only made him feel worse.
After eating half, he waved a hand at Wen Xi. "Take it out. I'm done."
Except for the medicine, Wen Xi never spoke out of turn. Since Yan Feng'an said he'd had enough, he carried the remaining congee back to the kitchen.
Both sisters-in-law seemed used to his poor appetite, and neither asked about the half bowl of porridge he'd left behind.
Wen Xi was still injured, so after he finished tending to Yan Feng'an, Chen Lanfang wouldn't let him do any more work. After lunch and his medicine, she shooed him back to his room to rest.
Lying in bed in the middle of the day instead of working was something Wen Xi had never even dared imagine, but his mother-in-law's tone was no joke, so he could only obediently return to his room.
He wasn't in the habit of napping, and he didn't dare climb onto Yan Feng'an's bed, so in the end he just dragged a stool over, leaned against Yan Feng'an's desk, and rested there for a while.
The daytime could be fudged through easily enough, but when night came, Wen Xi was truly at a loss.
The weather was gradually turning cold. Yesterday, after sleeping on the floor against the wall, he'd come down with a fever. If he kept sleeping like that tonight, his illness would likely only worsen tomorrow.
Seeing a doctor and taking medicine all cost money, and if he stayed sickly for a long time, the Yan family might well grow tired of him.
But sharing a bed with Yan Feng'an was truly a difficult thing to ask.
For one, it made him uncomfortable; for another, he was afraid Yan Feng'an might go mad in the middle of the night. Even though Yan Feng'an's mind had seemed fully lucid during the day, no one could guarantee his condition wouldn't relapse.
The Yan family probably thought the same way—before bed, Chen Lanfang brought him another bowl of calming medicine.