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Li Dafeng never expected that after spending over a month in the outskirts of the capital, enduring the proximity of Princess Baojia’s estate while keeping his distance, he would falter just days before leaving Chang’an. In those final days, he found himself frequently rushing to the princess’s residence, staying there for entire days on end.
Yet, despite his long hours, he rarely caught more than a fleeting glimpse of the estate’s owner. Instead, he was surrounded by the princess’s retinue of male companions—each vying for her attention.
At first, there had only been one patient: Jiang Jinyue. But on the third day, Baojia remarked casually, “I see Mr. Li’s medical expertise now surpasses that of the imperial physicians. Since you’re already here, why don’t you help me by examining all my retainers? It’ll ensure they’re in good health to better serve the estate—and satisfy the princess.”
Her implication was clear: healthier bodies meant better service, especially in pleasing her. He understood her veiled meaning but remained silent for a long while, unable to find a valid reason to refuse such an innocuous request.
Thus, a courtyard was specially prepared for him within the estate. There, he sat amidst the garden as the retainers filed past one by one for their consultations.
The eight men were dressed identically in flowing white robes, each bearing some resemblance to him. One shared his figure, another his eyes, another his nose, and yet another his lips. The visual impact was far more striking than Jiang Zhiyi’s earlier offhand comment: “Why does this military physician look so much like Princess Baojia’s male companions?”
Seated behind the desk, he watched them approach in turn. His fingertips, pressing against their pulses, felt numb, and every stroke of his brush as he wrote prescriptions seemed to waver.
These retainers, too, felt threatened by his presence—especially when they realized he embodied all their features combined. Like Jiang Jinyue before them, their gazes grew complex, wary, as if fearing he might usurp their favor.
He became the “outsider” they collectively resisted. As they waited for their turns, they chatted idly, subtly competing to assert their status through anecdotes:
“Princess celebrated my birthday the other day—it’s my third year in the estate. Every year, she has the kitchen prepare longevity noodles for me and watches me eat them.”
“On New Year’s Eve, when I fell asleep waiting for her return, she personally escorted me back to my quarters.”
“The upcoming Lantern Festival—she said she’d take me out alone to enjoy the lanterns.”
From the nearby pavilion, Baojia leaned against the window, listening to the clamor below. She watched as Li Dafeng, expressionless, took pulses, as though wishing he could shut out the noise entirely. Her laughter bubbled forth uncontrollably.
Jiang Jinyue’s illness had begun late on New Year’s Eve. Physician Xu had managed to temporarily suppress the symptoms, reducing the frequency of spasms, but offered no cure. Baojia blamed herself deeply; she had indeed been personally caring for Jiang Jinyue during those days.
After all, Ruyi—the beloved cat—had been entrusted to Jiang Jinyue. Knowing how much she cherished Ruyi, Jiang Jinyue had tried to build a rapport with the cat to win her favor. Ashamed of being scratched, he hadn’t reported the injury, leading to untreated wounds.
If Jiang Jinyue were to lose his life because of this, she wouldn’t forgive herself. During those frantic days, she summoned every available imperial physician, leaving no room in her mind to dwell on Li Dafeng.
Somehow, though, he had learned of the situation and mistakenly assumed she was ill.
Since he had come, she decided to make use of his skills. Now that Jiang Jinyue’s condition had stabilized, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to put Mr. Li to further use.
As Baojia gazed at the lively scene in the courtyard, she suddenly noticed Li Dafeng’s calm demeanor crack. His face shifted subtly, as though he had detected something unusual in a pulse.
Curious, she leaned out to glance at the man seated opposite him. She recognized him immediately.
His name was Liu Linfei, who had entered the estate early last year. Among her retainers, he was widely regarded as the most handsome—rivaled only by Li Dafeng himself.
However, not long after joining, Liu Linfei had begun pilfering items from the estate to pawn for money. Though she was generous with her retainers, she was understandably angered upon learning this.
Considering it his first offense, she refrained from reporting him to the authorities, intending instead to dismiss him quietly. But Liu Linfei begged desperately, promising to reform and offering to stay on as a servant.
Moved by his tragic backstory, she relented. The estate was large enough to accommodate one more mouth, so she assigned him clerical duties and housed him in a remote courtyard to deter further theft. Over time, she stopped summoning him for entertainment.
Had she not ordered all her retainers to attend today’s consultations, she might have forgotten about Liu Linfei altogether.
Li Dafeng’s examinations were typically calm and composed. This sudden reaction intrigued her. Could Liu Linfei’s prolonged isolation in that “cold palace” have caused some grave illness?
She observed his profile closely, noting the slight rise and fall of his chest. After finishing the pulse diagnosis, he let his hand drop to his lap, curling his fingers as if grappling with something internally. Moments later, without a word, he abruptly rose and strode out of the courtyard.
The hem of his pristine white robe fluttered behind him as he left without a backward glance.
The remaining retainers exchanged bewildered looks, unsure what had transpired. Li Dafeng had always conducted himself with grace and elegance—even seven years ago, she hadn’t seen him lose composure publicly, let alone now.
Baojia was equally stunned. Hurrying down from the pavilion, she intended to inquire about what had upset him. However, halfway there, Liu Linfei suddenly dropped to his knees, blocking her path.
“What is this? Did Mr. Li diagnose something serious?” Baojia asked, looking down curiously.
“Your Highness,” Liu Linfei stammered, bowing low. “Mr. Li said… I…” He hesitated, unable to continue. “Might Your Highness step aside for a private word?”
“You wait here—I’ll check on Mr. Li first.” Baojia attempted to bypass him, but Liu Linfei panicked, crawling forward to block her again.
“Your Highness, if you ask Mr. Li, I fear you may misunderstand. Please hear my explanation first!”
________________________________________
Fifteen minutes later, Baojia sat at the head of the main hall, sipping tea. Suddenly, she choked on the liquid, coughing into her hand.
Cuimei quickly patted her back while turning to confirm with Liu Linfei: “You’re saying Mr. Li diagnosed kidney yang deficiency due to excessive sexual activity?”
Liu Linfei nodded, raising three fingers solemnly. “Your Highness, I swear upon heaven—I haven’t been intimate with anyone inside or outside the estate. It’s just… just…”
Hearing his stuttering voice and seeing his flushed face, Baojia pieced together the truth.
It wasn’t intercourse between two people—it was self-indulgence.
Raising her hand slightly, she signaled for him to stop. Recalling Li Dafeng’s earlier cracked facade, she suddenly understood. “Did you explain this to Mr. Li?”
“He left before I could explain. I thought perhaps he doubted I’ve never approached you and assumed I was secretly involved with someone…”
Before Liu Linfei could finish, a soft chuckle interrupted him. Looking up, he saw Baojia resting her chin in her palm, smiling brightly.
“He doesn’t know half of it…” she murmured, seemingly addressing both him and herself. “If he did, he wouldn’t have left.”
“So, does Your Highness believe me?”
Baojia snapped out of her amused reverie. “As for you—you’re merely handling clerical tasks here. If you do find someone you fancy, inform me, and I won’t hold it against you. But if not, heed Mr. Li’s advice. Practice restraint; don’t harm your body at such a young age.”
Liu Linfei nodded repeatedly, still wanting to say more, but just then, Baojia stood up and walked out of the main hall with a refreshed expression.
When she reached the courtyard, she dismissed the group of retainers gathered there and was about to go check on Li Dafeng when she looked up and saw him stepping back into the courtyard. Evidently, after some reflection, he had decided it wouldn’t do to leave so abruptly and returned.
Baojia paused where she stood, settling into the same chair Li Dafeng had occupied earlier. Leaning back against it, she casually studied his face.
Li Dafeng approached as if nothing were amiss, his demeanor calm and composed, any trace of earlier distress now smoothed over.
“Mr. Li left without a word or taking anything—what did you go do?” Baojia rested her elbow on the armrest and propped her chin in her hand, gazing at him.
Li Dafeng stopped in front of her, standing across the table. “To answer Your Highness, I went to rest for a while.”
“Oh? Was diagnosing that tiring for you?”
“Your Highness has generously compensated me; I didn’t feel burdened.”
Baojia lightly tapped her temple with her fingertip. “No matter. I heard the auspicious date set by General Shen hasn’t arrived yet, so Mr. Li can take his time. For today, I’ve already sent them all back.”
Li Dafeng nodded. “Then I’ll go check on Mr. Jiang and administer another acupuncture session before leaving.”
“He’s still asleep,” Baojia leaned forward, smiling as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you check on me first?”
Li Dafeng lowered his eyes, briefly glancing at her ruby lips and pearly teeth before shifting his gaze away.
“What? Am I not as captivating as my retainers?” Baojia teased, her smile growing wider. “After meeting my retainers today, Mr. Li must have noticed how favored they are in my estate. Are you sure you won’t reconsider my previous offer?”
“Your Highness already has nine retainers to favor—it wouldn’t be right for me to add to your burdens.”
“You’re worried about that? No need for concern, Mr. Li. Those nine were brought in gradually over four years—only two new ones each year. I can manage just fine. Spreading affection evenly is something one gets better at with practice.”
“Excess in anything leads to harm, Your Highness. Please don’t let this even distribution sap your vitality.”
Baojia laughed. “How intriguing your euphemisms are, Mr. Li. There’s no need for restraint in a physician’s words—just say outright that I shouldn’t overexert myself.”
Li Dafeng averted his eyes and said nothing.
“Well then, why don’t you diagnose me and see if I’ve harmed my vitality?” Baojia rolled up her sleeve.
Li Dafeng hesitated briefly, then turned to retrieve the silk thread used for pulse diagnosis.
“No need for such formalities,” Baojia interrupted his movement. “You’ve even massaged my foot acupoints before—why grow more reserved as time goes on?”
Li Dafeng studied her for a moment, then put the silk thread aside, sitting down across from her. He placed his fingertips on her wrist to feel her pulse.
Baojia waited quietly, watching as his brow furrowed slightly. Curious, she asked, “What? Do I have symptoms similar to Mr. Liu’s?”
Li Dafeng exhaled slowly. “Your Highness’s cold uterus condition has worsened compared to before.”
“Oh, isn’t that an old ailment? Why make such a fuss?”
“I had already treated your cold uterus before I left.”
“But you left.”
The moment her words fell, the wind seemed to pause for a fleeting second. When it resumed, rustling through the trees in the courtyard, it carried the chill of a winter night rather than the warmth of spring.
Li Dafeng met her amused gaze, unable to refute her. After a long silence, his fingers pressed deeper into her pulse again.
“Until your cold uterus improves, Your Highness must refrain from drinking alcohol.”
“Not even wine? Life would lose a great pleasure. If it’s just a cold uterus, so be it—I can live with it. It’s not like I plan to bear children anyway.”
“It’s not about bearing children. If this condition persists untreated, it will lead to more chronic ailments over time.”
“Then here’s a deal: entertain me in my estate, and I’ll quit drinking. How’s that sound?” Baojia watched him with keen interest.
“Your body belongs to you, Princess.”
Baojia’s smile faded. “Since it’s not yours, why do you meddle?”
Li Dafeng turned his head away, closing his eyes briefly to compose himself. Then he asked, “Has Your Highness used any harmful remedies these past years?”
“Harmful remedies?”
“—Contraceptive remedies.”
Baojia burst into laughter. “Can’t you diagnose that?”
“I’m no celestial healer. Not everything can be discerned through pulse diagnosis after several years.”
“Do you think I’d drink such vile concoctions?”
“You mustn’t drink them in the future either—not even more than wine.”
“The future? How far into the future?” Baojia stared at his fingers pressing against her pulse. “Another seven years? Until Mr. Li returns to diagnose me again and says—’I’m no celestial healer; not everything can be discerned through pulse diagnosis’?”
Li Dafeng frowned at her, opening his mouth several times as if to speak but closing it again. Back and forth, he struggled until finally, no words came out.
________________________________________
From that day onward, Li Dafeng visited the princess’s estate daily—to treat Jiang Jinyue, write prescriptions for the other eight retainers, and most importantly, to help regulate Baojia’s health.
If only he had known earlier that she never listened to the imperial physicians and treated their routine checkups as mere formalities, he would have come to examine her on his very first day in the capital. At least then, he might have had two months to work with. Now, curing such a prolonged chronic illness within ten days was beyond even the skills of a celestial healer. All he could do was prepare prescriptions in advance and entrust the palace physicians to monitor her condition.
Li Dafeng was overwhelmed, but Baojia remained carefree. She declared that life was for seizing pleasures in the moment—even if it meant dying amidst indulgence—and she’d rather revel in wine and feasts than rely on medicinal tonics to survive.
Her cold uterus condition was far from life-threatening, yet Li Dafeng’s temple throbbed visibly at her words.
He wasn’t sure if she was deliberately goading him, ensuring his departure would be anything but peaceful—or if she truly meant what she said.
“If you die indulging in wine and pleasures, then there will be nothing left,” Li Dafeng told her.
“But aside from wine and pleasures, I have nothing to begin with,” Baojia replied matter-of-factly.
Though she spoke so flippantly, watching Li Dafeng act as though he were perpetually on edge—like a taut string about to snap—brought her a certain satisfaction. Still, for his sake, she humored him: she abstained from alcohol for ten days and dutifully drank the prescribed herbal remedies.
Ten days—a blink of an eye, yet it stretched endlessly, like the full year that had once been packed with memories before his departure seven years ago.
There were moments when it felt as though they had returned to the past. But more often, those fleeting illusions were torn apart by stark reality.
For instance, whenever Ruyi appeared—the cat he used to cradle in his arms—he now avoided it entirely, never allowing their paths to cross.
No explanation was needed; Baojia understood why.
After he left all those years ago, the three kittens had fallen into a deep melancholy, especially Ruyi, who had fallen ill for some time.
Knowing he would leave again, he chose not to awaken memories of the past in Ruyi, who had long since forgotten him and found companionship elsewhere.
Before that day when he rushed to the princess’s estate thinking she was ill, Li Dafeng had treated her much like he now treated Ruyi—with distance.
Baojia had already learned from Jiang Zhiyi that they were set to depart for Hexi after the Lantern Festival. Yet Li Dafeng had said nothing about it, and she wondered when—or how—he intended to bring it up. So she never asked.
On the eve of the Lantern Festival, Li Dafeng stayed busy at the estate until nightfall, leaving prescriptions for each of her retainers before finally coming to her courtyard.
Baojia sat in the pavilion of the garden, holding Ruyi in her arms, having waited for him for quite some time. When she saw him approach, she handed the cat to a maid nearby.
Once the maid had taken the cat away, Li Dafeng stepped forward, medical box in hand.
“Mr. Li has finished his work? You could have simply sent Cuimei to inform me. Why trouble yourself to come in person?” Baojia raised her eyes, feigning ignorance.
Li Dafeng tightened his grip slightly on the medical box, standing silently before her for a moment. “I’ve come to bid Your Highness farewell.”
“Mr. Li’s resolve is truly unshakable—no worldly pleasures can hold you back,” Baojia remarked, showing no surprise. She poured two cups of tea, offering one to him as a substitute for wine, and gestured for him to sit.
Li Dafeng lowered his gaze, hesitating briefly before sitting on the stone bench opposite her. “I’ve already instructed Physician Xu on your subsequent prescriptions and given Cuimei instructions for dietary therapy. Going forward, Cuimei will ensure you take your medicine and follow the regimen.”
“And if I refuse? Do you think Cuimei can control me?” Baojia chuckled, twirling the teacup in her hand. “People can’t have everything, Mr. Li. To leave and yet expect to do so guilt-free—there’s no such thing. If you’re leaving, there’s no need to make these arrangements. Do you really believe you’re so unforgettable that someone will remember your instructions for ten years?”
“One year.”
Baojia’s brows lifted slightly as she realized he was referring to the length of his absence.
For the past three years, he hadn’t come to the capital because Hexi had been embroiled in conflict. As a military physician, he naturally accompanied General Yuan Ce to the front lines. Now that the war was over, border generals were required to report to the capital during the New Year, allowing him to return with Yuan Ce. Thus, it was a year-long commitment.
She looked him up and down. “Mr. Li certainly carries himself with great pomp these days—arriving at the New Year and departing in the first month, expecting people to endure bitter medicine for an entire year based on this one-month visit. Don’t overestimate yourself.”
“There are unfinished matters I must attend to. If I survive them…” Li Dafeng fixed his gaze on her, “…I promise to enter your estate.”
It was as if he had amused her. “Mr. Li, all my retainers prioritize me above all else. Yet here you are, placing your tasks first, your life second, and my estate third?”
Li Dafeng fell silent, unable to refute her.
In truth, Yuan Ce had told him recently that if he wished to stay in Chang’an, he could. There was no need to return to Hexi. But Li Dafeng knew what lay ahead for Yuan Ce.
Eliminating the Zhong family was one thing—but behind them stood the Fan clan of Hedong and the second prince.
If his absence cost Yuan Ce his life at any point—
Baojia watched the struggle play across his features and sobered. “The war with the Northern Jie is over. What could possibly remain that requires risking your life?”
Li Dafeng raised his eyes to meet hers.
Even if he trusted her, he couldn’t reveal the secrets of the Shen family—secrets only Yuan Ce had the right to disclose.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause, his voice quiet.
Baojia set down her teacup and turned her head away.
“Fine. I won’t ask.” Her voice was soft, almost a murmur, as she stared unblinking at the lanterns above. After a moment, she stood, turning her back to him and nodding to herself. “I won’t ask. Just go.”
Li Dafeng’s gaze remained fixed on her retreating figure. Beneath his wide sleeves, his hands clenched into fists, only to slowly uncurl after a long while.
“There’s something else I need to give to Your Highness.”
Baojia didn’t turn around. “What is it? Leave it there.”
From his medical box, Li Dafeng retrieved a porcelain bottle and gently placed it on the stone table. “It’s not medicine for Your Highness—it’s for your retainers.”
Baojia turned back, puzzled. “Didn’t you already prescribe each of them a remedy?”
“This is something they can all use.”
She blinked. “What is it?”
Li Dafeng lowered his lashes, gazing at the porcelain bottle as he explained, sentence by sentence: “I know that the nobility of Chang’an typically use sheep or fish intestines as contraceptive devices. But if the size is incorrect or the casing breaks, this method isn’t foolproof. Given Your Highness’s current condition, pregnancy must be avoided at all costs. A double safeguard would provide peace of mind. However, post-coital remedies are too taxing on your body, so I’ve spent these past days developing a pre-coital contraceptive for men. After taking it for seven consecutive days, their seminal essence becomes inactive, making conception nearly impossible. You may instruct them to take it regularly.”
Baojia stared at him, dumbfounded. His expression was calm, as though he were merely speaking in the detached tone of a physician.
“I thought… Mr. Li would advise me to quit drinking and abstain altogether.”
“As long as intercourse isn’t excessive, it won’t harm Your Highness’s health. That is your freedom.” Li Dafeng suppressed the turbulent emotions rising in his chest, maintaining his composure. “Of course, they shouldn’t rely solely on this medicine—they must still use the traditional methods. Rest assured, these pills won’t harm the men. Once they stop taking them, their seminal essence will gradually recover.”
“Oh,” Baojia replied dryly. “I trust you, Mr. Li. But since this is newly developed, how do you know it works after seven days?”
Li Dafeng raised his eyes, meeting her questioning gaze.
In the prolonged silence that followed, she heard him speak slowly: “I tested it.”
“What?”
Li Dafeng closed his eyes briefly. “I’ve been testing the medicine these past days. It takes effect on the seventh day.”
Baojia looked at his expression, one of self-sacrifice and quiet determination, and suddenly burst into laughter. “Well then—thank you for your hard work, Mr. Li.”