As the last silver needle was pulled out, Huo Jingchuan’s body—tense to the extreme—finally relaxed.
The phantom-limb pain that had tortured him for countless nights, making life unbearable, vanished completely.
In its place came a long-missed, deep fatigue.
He hadn’t even had time to process the mix of humiliation and anger from Jiang Mian “teasing” him earlier when, in this unprecedented relief, his head tilted, and he fell asleep instantly.
It was the deepest, most peaceful sleep he’d had since his injury six months ago.
No nightmares, no pain—only the faint scent of herbs and a subtle warmth of a woman’s fragrance nearby.
…
Jiang Mian tiptoed over, gently tucking the blanket around him. Seeing the slight frown still etched even in sleep, she let out a soft sigh.
【Looking like a proper person while asleep, at least.】
She rubbed her sore wrists and turned toward the kitchen.
As a doctor with professional integrity (though currently a scheming widow-in-training), once she took on a patient, she had to see it through.
Huo Jingchuan’s body was far too depleted—acupuncture alone wouldn’t suffice; he needed nutritional therapy.
Jiang Mian dug into her vegetable basket for the two unwanted pork bones, washed and blanched them, then threw them into the clay pot.
Seizing the opportunity with no one outside, she summoned a trickle of crystal-clear spring water from her special space—while it couldn’t bring the dead back, it was excellent for strengthening the body and enhancing flavor.
She added a few slices of angelica root and Astragalus, brought the pot to a boil, then let it simmer slowly.
Over time, the clear broth turned into a rich milky-white, filling the kitchen with a robust aroma of meat mingled with herbs.
The fragrance arrogantly snuck through the cracks of the door, invading the bedroom and filling the cold little courtyard.
By dusk, the setting sun cast its glow across the head of the bed.
Huo Jingchuan woke—not from hunger exactly, but from a smell so irresistible it could be considered criminal.
He blinked open his eyes, still groggy.
His leg no longer hurt, his spirit felt revitalized… but his stomach was staging a full-scale protest.
“Creak—”
The door opened. Jiang Mian carried a tray into the room.
She wore her signature “dutiful little wife” mask, setting the tray on the bedside table. On it were two large bowls and one small bowl.
The large bowls were filled with milky-white bone broth, topped with chunks of deboned meat and garnished with green onions, fragrance wafting temptingly.
The small bowl held only a few plain white radish pieces floating in clear water.
“Brother Jingchuan, you’re awake?”
Jiang Mian lifted the big bowl with both hands and offered it to him, her gaze soft enough to drip:
“I simmered this bone broth all afternoon, added some herbs—it’s the best tonic. Drink it while it’s hot.”
Huo Jingchuan looked at the bowl, his Adam’s apple rolling involuntarily.
Before he could reach for it, Jiang Mian’s mischievous inner voice chimed in:
【Drink, drink, Big Brother… oh, no, Brother!】【This is the Miracle Doctor’s exclusive “Ten-Perfect Tonic Soup,” made with my special spring water—you won’t get this anywhere else!】
Huo Jingchuan’s hand froze mid-air.
“Big Brother? Big Brother what? Wu Dalang?!”
Was she hinting the soup was poisoned?
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her smiling face.
Seeing him hesitate, Jiang Mian thought he found it too hot and pushed it slightly closer:
“What’s wrong, Brother Jingchuan? It’s not hot—I tried it myself.”
【Drink quickly! I spent a fortune on these bones! To help you get better, I spared no expense!】【Get strong, recover fully, and then go make money to support me!】【See? I even picked off the meat for you—I’ll just eat radish. Where else will you find a wife this considerate? Feel touched? Want to cry?】
Huo Jingchuan’s gaze shifted from the fragrant, meaty broth to the tiny bowl of radish.
And then he looked at Jiang Mian—calculating, full of lies, comparing him to Wu Dalang—but she had given him all the meat. Not a bite for herself.
The irritation he felt from being called “Dalang” dissipated entirely at that glance.
He silently accepted the bowl, lowering his head to sip.
The broth was rich and savory, with no trace of meaty odor, carrying a subtle sweetness that slid down his throat, warming his entire stomach and relaxing his limbs.
Delicious.
Better even than a state banquet chef’s best dish.
Huo Jingchuan drank quietly, bowl emptied in several mouthfuls, leaving the meat at the bottom.
Jiang Mian stood aside, swallowing, her inner voice whining:
【Ugh… smells so good… seeing him enjoy it, I want to eat the meat too… No! For long-term happiness, endure it!】
Just as she was about to eat her radish soup, a pair of chopsticks reached over.
Huo Jingchuan picked up the tender deboned meat from the bottom of the bowl and without a word, placed it into Jiang Mian’s radish-only bowl.
Jiang Mian froze, eyes wide.
【???】【The sun came out from the west? Huo the miser actually gave me meat?!】
He avoided her astonished gaze, slammed the empty bowl back on the bedside table, still cold, still slightly disdainful:
“…Too fatty.”
He lay back, pulled the covers over himself, back turned to her, and added stiffly:
“I don’t eat fatty stuff. Too greasy. Solve it yourself, don’t waste food.”
Jiang Mian looked at the few chunks of perfectly marbled meat in the bowl, then at Huo Jingchuan’s stubborn back.
Her lips curved into a genuine smile.
【Hmm, a little tsundere, huh?】【Fine, since you gave me meat, I’ll revoke the “Dalang” nickname—for now.】
She happily picked up a piece and popped it into her mouth.
Mmm… delicious!