It was the seventh time it had happened...

Spreading my palm, I gazed at the red thread that snaked down my hand. Recalling the sorrowful expression on my sister-in-law’s face last night when she lifted my robe, I couldn’t help but sigh.

“Sigh~” came Que’er’s muffled voice.

“If Miss is unwell, why not rest at home? If the General finds out you’ve slipped out like this, Que’er will be in trouble…”

My lips curved into a smile as I faced the high sun of early autumn, taking a deep breath. Even if only one day remains, I want to live like a bird—falling toward the horizon, with a heart full of distant dreams. Patting my dark male attire, I glanced at her with a faint smile. “When we’re outside, remember to call me Young Master.”

“Yes… Young Master…”

The gentle breeze stirred the ribbon binding my hair, and the jade pendants at my waist jingled softly. Not far away, the bustling marketplace teemed with people, particularly around a small stall crowded with customers.

“What?” A portly vendor carrying a shoulder pole stood on tiptoe, his weathered face filled with astonishment. “Cháng cháng cháng cháng cháng cháng cháng?”

“Seven ‘cháng’ characters?” A scholar in plain robes shook his head. “What does it mean?”

“Oh, Elder,” Que’er squeezed through the crowd, stopping a kindly old man to exercise her knack for gossip. “What’s being sold here? Why is business so good?”

“Oh, this is a stall specializing in bean sprouts.” The old man clasped his hands behind his back, his wrinkles bunching together as he smiled and explained. “The other day, the stall owner Liu Da found a purse full of money. Instead of keeping it for himself, he waited until the rightful owner returned. That person turned out to be a young man who left some money as a reward. Liu Da refused to accept it, but the next day, the young man came back with half a couplet as a token of gratitude. Liu Da hung it up, and since then, crowds have gathered to try their hand at completing the couplet. Business has been booming ever since.”

Que’er flashed her winning smile and bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Elder.”

Oh? A gift in the form of a couplet—how very much in line with the scholarly spirit. Pondering it carefully, I suddenly understood and chuckled softly: brilliant, quite fitting indeed.

“Young…” Que’er quickly covered her mouth and corrected herself. “Young Master, do you understand it now?”

I nodded slightly, folding my paper fan.

“Ah! Fantastic!” Que’er tugged at my sleeve excitedly. “What does this string of seven ‘cháng’ characters mean?”

The murmuring crowd fell silent, turning their attention toward me.

“Esteemed sir, if you have a matching second half of the couplet, please write it here.” The honest-faced stall owner retrieved paper and brush from beneath the table, scratching his head. “The young man who provided the first half said that once the couplet is completed, my bean sprout business will surely prosper even more.”

Smiling faintly, I picked up the crude brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote swiftly.

“Cháng cháng cháng…” The scholar leaning over beside me read aloud. “…Cháng cháng cháng?”

Setting down the brush, I gave a subtle nod to Que’er, who held up the completed lower half of the couplet. The surrounding crowd read it aloud in unison: “Cháng cháng cháng cháng cháng cháng cháng!”

“Another seven ‘cháng’ characters?”

“Huh? This old fool is even more confused.”

“Playing tricks, aren’t they?”

“Liu Da’s just a simple man.” The stall owner scratched his head, looking at me with difficulty. “Could this gentleman explain it to me?”

Pointing my fan at the upper half of the couplet, I cleared my throat and recited: “Cháng (long) cháng (grow) cháng (long) cháng (grow) cháng cháng (long grow).”

Then, glancing at the freshly written lower half, still wet with ink: “Cháng (grow) cháng (long) cháng (grow) cháng (long) cháng cháng (grow long).”

Bowing slightly, I smiled and said, “May your bean sprouts grow longer and longer, and may the line of customers stretch further and further.”

“Brilliant! Truly brilliant!”

“So that’s how it works!”

“Liu Da, get ready to make a fortune.”

“Hehehe.” The stall owner rubbed his hands together, chuckling warmly. “Thank you, esteemed sir.” Rolling up his sleeves, he called out loudly, “Today, my bean sprouts are four coins per catty, no price increase!”

“Liu Da, give me a catty!”

“Boss, half a catty for me!”

Pushing my way out of the crowd, I gazed at the bustling bean sprout stall and smiled softly. Who could that lost traveler have been? Such a gift was far more practical than a few silver coins.

“This sir,” I turned my head to see a youth resembling a book boy standing beside me, bowing respectfully. “My master invites you upstairs for a meeting.”

Looking up at the somewhat dilapidated teahouse, I noticed a shadowy figure visible through the second-floor window overlooking the street. Presumably, this must be him.

The old wooden stairs creaked underfoot as I ascended to the second floor. A drawn-out voice greeted me: “Bean sprouts grow (constantly) growing (constantly) grow.”

Still testing me? Smiling faintly, I replied calmly: “The sea rises (tidally) rising (tidally) rise.”

The book boy gently opened the wooden door, revealing a tall, elegant scholar dressed in black ink-colored robes. Slowly rising to his feet, he gave a respectful bow. His lean frame made his Confucian robes appear more voluminous. Pale complexion, clear eyes, and an air of transcendence surrounded him. Returning the gesture, I smiled faintly. “Cháng (long) elder brother?”

He showed no sign of anger, replying, “Cháng (long) younger brother?”

We exchanged smiles, bowed, and took our seats. Que’er stood obediently by my side, while the book boy respectfully poured fragrant tea for me.

His bright, gentle eyes shimmered with a hint of satisfaction. “I am Yuan Zhong from Jiangdong.” Unlike the pretentious introductions common among modern scholars, his introduction was refreshingly simple.

Raising my teacup, I softly replied, “Yun Qing from Lianzhou.”

“Lianzhou—a fine place.” He murmured softly, “Dream Lake is naturally carefree, yet ripples form upon its surface when touched by the wind.”

Thinking of the picturesque scenery of Jinli County, I responded gently: “Screw Mountain was never old; its peaks were whitened by snow.”

Yuan Zhong’s clear eyes shimmered like rippling waves. Raising his voice, he called out, “Jiangxuan, bring us some wine!”

“But, Master, what about your illness?”

Waving his sleeve, Yuan Zhong revealed his boldness. “When meeting a kindred spirit, a slight ailment is nothing to fear.”

Raising my hand, I declined politely, “Brother Yuanzhong, I become drunk after just a sip of alcohol. Let’s skip it, shall we?”

“Yes, yes,” Jiangxuan chimed in anxiously, “Master Yun doesn’t drink well. Please don’t insist.”

Shaking his head, Yuan Zhong looked somewhat embarrassed. “Then so be it. May I ask why Brother Yun has come to Yundu—is it to visit friends or to study?”

“I’m here to visit relatives,” I replied, then asked in turn, “And you, Brother Yuanzhong?”

“A wandering cloud, here to seek autumn and meet friends.” He rose slowly, standing by the window and gazing into the distance with a sigh. “It’s been several years since I last visited. Yundu has grown increasingly prosperous. Last time I came, the outskirts of the capital were filled with refugees—it was heartbreaking.”

Quickly searching my memory, I asked softly, “Are you referring to the great flood of Chijiang River four years ago?”

“Yes,” he turned around, the warm autumn sunlight casting a glow on his face. “Qing is a land abundant in water, both a blessing and a curse. If managed well, water can aid the rise of the nation. But if left unchecked, it brings suffering to the people.” Nodding thoughtfully, I gazed at him earnestly. Yuan Zhong’s gaze stretched far, and he spoke slowly: “During that great flood, Yundu, located on the right bank of the river, suffered less than the left bank regions. In our Jiangdong, the fields were strewn with corpses, diseases spread, and families sold their children—it was truly a human tragedy.”

Nodding, I added, “Later, I heard that the renowned scholar Yu Ning of Jiangdong submitted a memorial to the King, proposing fourteen measures for water management, which helped alleviate the disaster.”

Yuan Zhong let out a soft hum, shaking his head. “A mere scholar cannot overturn the heavens—that’s all empty praise from the masses.”

“Empty praise?” Thinking of Yunzhi’s admiration for Yu Ning, I couldn’t help but speak out.

“If it were only the admiration of common folk, perhaps it could be dismissed as empty praise. But even the calculating nobles hold this man in high regard and have repeatedly invited him to serve. From this perspective, Yu Ning’s wisdom is no mere rumor. I simply wonder why he refuses.”

Yuan Zhong took a sip of tea, his lips curling faintly into a smile. “Is Brother Yun so curious?”

“Indeed.” I opened my paper fan, fanning myself with a cool breeze. “Though I am but a common person, I find this matter quite intriguing.”

“Hmm.” He touched his cheek with his slender fingers, smiling. “Perhaps he feels that Yundu is already full of talented scholars and fears coming here would only invite ridicule. Haven’t you heard the saying? When northern birds fly south, they see a land full of phoenixes where there’s no room to perch.”

I stopped fanning, blinking. “Or perhaps it’s like an eastern dragon leaping westward, causing all the fish and turtles in the river to bow their heads. Brother Yuanzhong, such reasoning seems rather far-fetched, doesn’t it?”

He looked at me in surprise for a moment before bursting into clear laughter. “True, it does stretch credibility. Perhaps he is arrogant about his talents, thinking himself above the mundane. His face might betray difficulty in adapting to court life.”

“Not so,” I waved my hand dismissively.

“If he were arrogant, how could he have taken the initiative to address the nation’s concerns by emphasizing the importance of water management? If he truly distanced himself from society, how could he have empathized with the people’s hardships and submitted proposals to the king?” I smiled softly.

“Difficulties in expression? They are easy to overcome.”

“Difficult... easy...” Yuan Zhong clapped his hands and laughed heartily.

“A perfect match!”

“From this, it seems that Yu Ning must have some unspoken difficulties.” I narrowed my eyes and sighed.

“What a pity. If his ambition lies not in ruling the world but in drifting freely through the rivers and lakes, then so be it. But alas, he is a rare talent suited for governance, yet he remains hidden away in Jiangdong. What a waste, truly a waste.”

“Waste?” Yuan Zhong gazed at me, his bright eyes flickering subtly.

“Is Brother Yun part of the court?”

“No, I am but a wandering soul without lofty aspirations—merely sighing in admiration.” Meeting his gaze steadily, I spoke softly:

“Brother Yuanzhong, do you know that entering officialdom is like waging war, where momentum is crucial? The first surge of energy carries one forward; the second weakens, and the third exhausts completely. In the time of the Sage Emperor, Grand Secretary Chang Ge entered service at the peak of his fame. The emperor trusted him, ministers respected him, and the people admired him—he gained renown both in life and after death. Meanwhile, Li Xifan, considered his equal, hesitated and did not respond to the first invitation nor the second. Only when he saw his friend Chang Ge succeed in fulfilling his ambitions did he reluctantly step forward. This single misstep led to public disdain, with people saying: ‘Beneath great fame lies mediocrity.’ Though both were hailed as prodigies, their futures and reputations diverged greatly—why?”

I smiled gently at Yuan Zhong. “It is all about momentum, timing, and the will of the people. Even with earth-shattering talent, without widespread support, one can only catch small fish in a muddy pond. The masses are shortsighted and extreme—they eagerly embellish what shines brightly while casting tragic shadows over what fades. Now, this Yu Ning stands at the height of his momentum. Four years is not too long; those who suffered during the floods still regard him as a beacon of hope. But if he delays further, refusing repeated invitations until his momentum wanes, it will become nearly impossible for him to realize his ambitions. So, do not squander this golden opportunity; ride the stormy winds and command the tides.”

Yuan Zhong’s gaze burned intensely as he stared deeply at me. After a long pause, he spoke gravely: “Brother Yun speaks truthfully. Yu Ning indeed has unspoken difficulties.”

I raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh? Do tell.”

He stood by the window, his back to the light, his face half-shadowed. “The Yu family was once a prominent clan in the previous dynasty. Three generations ago, Ling Zhan usurped the throne and renamed the kingdom Qing. Yu Manlun moved his family eastward, settling in Jiangdong, and established a family rule: no descendant of the Yu family shall serve under the Qing court. This is why Yu Ning has steadfastly refused to enter service.”

So that was it—a matter of family legacy. Lowering my gaze with a faint smile, I turned my head toward him. “It seems Brother Yuanzhong is close friends with Yu Ning. I have a couplet I’d like you to convey to him on my behalf.”

He stood silhouetted against the sunlight, his face partially shadowed. “Please go ahead.”

I rose to my feet, slowly approaching him, and fixed my gaze firmly upon him: “One’s heart belongs to the court, regardless of whether serving former or current lords.” His brows twitched slightly, and his intelligent eyes shimmered. Pausing briefly, I continued in a steady voice: “Fame spreads across the land—why distinguish between Jiangdong or Jiangxi?” My tone rose slightly as I concluded: “Horizontal inscription: ‘Clouds Emerging from the Peaks.’“

Yuan Zhong pondered silently for a moment, his expression softening. Taking two steps back, he bowed deeply to me. “On behalf of Yu Ning, I thank you, Brother Yunqing. Your three brilliant couplets have opened my mind.”

“Brother Yuanzhong flatters me.” Glancing at the sky outside the window, I realized dusk was approaching. Bowing slightly to him, I said, “It’s about time. Thank you for your hospitality—I must take my leave.”

“Ah~ Brother Yun, don’t go just yet.” Yuan Zhong impulsively grabbed my wrist. Both of us froze momentarily. He quickly released his grip, and my cheeks flushed slightly.

“I apologize for my impropriety.” He slowly lowered his hand.

“Brother Yun is truly delicate and refined in appearance. If not for your profound insights, I might have mistaken you for a woman.”

I relaxed my brows and chuckled lightly. “I’ve always been frail, Brother Yuanzhong—you must forgive my delicate appearance. However, I truly have matters to attend to today. If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll visit again another time.”

“Very well.” He gave a casual bow.

“I’m currently staying at the Jiangdong Pavilion on Nanyuan Street. You are always welcome.”

Descending the stairs, I walked through the bustling streets. Turning back, I offered a faint smile to Yuan Zhong standing by the window. His eyes widened instantly, his fingers gripping the windowsill tightly. Bowing slightly, I turned and left, the setting sun flowing like weak water toward Jiangdong.

Letting my hair down, I leaned back in a bamboo chair, flipping through Liu Zhao Ji , borrowed from my brother. Softly reciting, I murmured: “Yu Ning, styled Yuanzhong.” Closing the book, I gazed at the swaying tree shadows outside the window, a faint smile playing on my lips: Truly, planting flowers intentionally yields no blooms, while casually planting willows brings shade. Yu Ning, oh Yu Ning, where will we meet again?

My fingertips accidentally brushed against the ancient zither.

“Niao Zhuan,” a clear note rang out softly. Slowly sitting down, I lowered my head and lifted my hands, plucking the strings gently. The sound rippled like waves, my heart trembling faintly. Fingers danced, strings vibrated—I began to play the tune Zhi Yin (Soulmates).

By the second repetition, a distant flute joined in harmony. Strings and pipes intertwined, their melodies blending perfectly.

“Niao Zhuan”

“Feng Chui,” the flute’s pure tones soared magnificently. A smile danced on my lips as I played delicately, pouring my heart into the music. The melancholy of the Shang mode mingled with the clarity of the Jue notes. The lingering zither harmonized with the haunting flute. One melody of Zhi Yin shared between kindred spirits, the moon setting in the west, the evening breeze gentle.

As the final notes faded, the lingering echoes drifted through the garden.

Looking up, I saw tall pines and slender bamboos, sparse leaves and scattered flowers. A tall, elegant figure stepped through the moonlight, descending quietly without disturbing a speck of dust. Bathed in fragmented silver light, his handsome visage radiated grace and refinement.

Leaning against the window, I spoke softly: “Xiuyuan.”

His handsome features softened slightly as he nodded faintly. Then, his deep, dark eyes stirred, and a cold voice followed: “How many times has it hurt?”

Opening the door, I leaned against it and smiled. “Seven times.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he hurried inside. Pouring a cup of tea, he placed it on the table. Lifting his robes, he sat down, gazing steadily at me. “Yunqing, let me take your pulse.”

Slowly sitting down, I rolled up my sleeve and extended my right hand. At the touch of his skin, a fleeting shiver ran through me. His long fingers paused briefly before pressing down gently.

A rush of hurried footsteps approached from the corridor. My sister-in-law, accompanied by Yinzhang, entered anxiously. “Sister, just now, that flute...”

Smiling faintly at her, I introduced: “This is my friend, Ye Jinglan.” Xiuyuan raised his head, gazing deeply at me.

“Oh, the renowned Night Physician?” My sister-in-law’s expression softened slightly.

“Mm.” A faint smile graced my lips.

“Xiuyuan, this is my sister-in-law.” He withdrew his penetrating gaze, nodding slightly to her without speaking further.

“Master Ye, what of my sister’s illness?” My sister-in-law sat on the pearwood chair by the door, her face filled with worry.

Xiuyuan slowly withdrew his fingers, glancing at her indifferently. “The poison has seeped into her marrow.”

“What!” My sister-in-law shot to her feet.

“Please, you must save her!”

Xiuyuan retrieved a packet of herbs from his robes, placing it on the table. “Simmer over low heat for three hours.”

“Thank you.” My sister-in-law glanced toward the doorway.

“Where’s that girl Que’er? Why isn’t she here attending to you?” Yinzhang stepped forward quietly, taking the herbs away.

“Perhaps she fell asleep,” I said, lowering my sleeve.

“Lady, please leave.” Xiuyuan’s voice was cold and firm.

“Ah?” My sister-in-law looked at him in surprise, then at me, rising slowly. “Could I stay here quietly, without making a sound?”

“No.” Xiuyuan’s tone was calm but decisive.

I kindly explained, “During the process of channeling energy, one must concentrate and maintain calmness. It would be inappropriate for Sister-in-law to stay here.”

“Oh...” My sister-in-law looked at us anxiously, reluctant as she closed the door. But then, the door suddenly opened again, and she whispered to me, “I’ll be right outside. Call me if anything happens.”

Amused by her concern, I shook my head with a faint smile. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

Closing the door, I slowly walked into the inner room. The warm yellow light cast a soft glow around us. Xiuyuan gazed steadily at me, his beautiful phoenix-like eyes flickering with a trace of something unspoken. I stared quietly back, my brows slightly furrowed.

After a moment, his clear, cold voice broke the silence. “Yunqing.”

“Mm, Xiuyuan, what do you need me to do?”

His calm black eyes seemed to tremble faintly, but his tone remained even. “You need to remove your clothes and lie down quietly.”

A rush of heat flooded my face as if flames had ignited it, and my head buzzed loudly. Swallowing hard, I lowered my head slightly. “How much?”

“Upper body.” His answer was decisive, without hesitation.

Biting my lower lip, I sighed softly. “Mm.”

Lowering the translucent curtain, I took off my embroidered shoes and climbed onto the bed. Through the haze, I saw him politely turn his back to me. Half-turning, my fingers hesitated before I closed my eyes and began unfastening my outer robe. First, I removed the long-sleeved jacket, then the inner garment, leaving only the pale green undergarment covering my chest. Hesitating, I murmured, “All of it?”

“All of it.” His response was firm and resolute.

With determination, I removed the rest of my clothing, covering my chest with my hands, and slowly lay down on my stomach, turning my head inward. “Okay,” I whispered nervously.

His footsteps approached gradually, and I buried my face into the soft pillow. A cool breeze brushed over my bare back, making me shiver slightly. The bed curtain was gently lifted, and I held my breath, my heart racing. He carefully lifted my hair from my back, and I felt my body burning.

Each silver needle inserted into my shoulder blades and sides made my meridians tremble, my marrow throb painfully, and my skin grow cold in waves. After a while, no more needles were inserted, and he spoke in a low voice. “We need to palm-connect.”

“Palm-connect?” I turned my head abruptly, but upon meeting his gaze, I shyly buried my face back into the pillow. “J-just like this?”

“Yes.” That single word was enough to make me blush furiously.

Reaching out blindly, I finally grabbed a piece of clothing and quickly covered myself, sitting up slowly. My long hair cascaded down my chest. Moving inward slightly, I saw him look away as he sat down calmly. When I raised my head again, I noticed Xiuyuan had closed his eyes, his handsome face serene. “I won’t open my eyes,” he said softly.

That simple reassurance calmed my unease. Slowly, I let go of the fabric, allowing it to slide gently off my skin. He raised his hands silently. I pressed my palms against his, feeling their warmth.

Pure Yang energy flowed through my meridians, shaking the sharp pain within me. An overwhelming surge coursed through my marrow, as if life itself were being drawn out of me—a pain beyond words. Cold sweat formed on my forehead, trickling down my cheeks. Struggling to hold my weakening body upright, I felt the needles embedded in my back quiver as the pure energy fought the toxic venom in my bloodstream. Opening my eyes slightly, I saw Xiuyuan’s tightly shut eyes and billowing sleeves. His stern face showed no sign of fatigue, though nearly an hour had passed—he must have been exhausted too.

Calmly focusing, I felt the refined internal energy flowing through my body.

“Ahh...” I bit my lower lip, enduring wave after wave of excruciating pain. The icy chill within me gradually weakened, and suddenly, a surge of pure Yang energy rushed into my palms, sweeping through my entire body like a tidal wave. Several metallic sounds rang out as the needles shot out of my back. A thick, coppery taste rose in my throat, and I turned my head, vomiting a mouthful of black blood onto the floor. My body slid limply off the bed, collapsing weakly against its edge, utterly drained. My mind grew hazy, colors swirling together until they dissolved into deep darkness.

I felt the soft, silky touch of a thin blanket covering me, followed by being enveloped in strong, comforting arms. Warmth surrounded me, bringing peace to my heart, and I drifted toward sleep.

Through the haze, a faint whisper reached my ears: “I will take responsibility.”

What? What...

And then, I sank into the deep, endless night...