When Xu Ping’an stepped out of the Hall of Ten Thousand Harmonies, the stars had already quietly blanketed the sky, and the crescent Moon in the eastern sky had long since climbed to its midpoint.
“You brat, coming here just to mooch off me! Hurry up, grab your things and get lost!”
Behind Xu Ping’an, a dozen or so junior apprentices emerged, carrying boxes of various sizes filled entirely with different kinds of auxiliary medicines.
One by one, they loaded the boxes onto the carriage.
Meanwhile, Wan Ji Cang, that stubborn old man, stood at the doorway with furrowed brows and an angry scowl, glaring fiercely at Xu Ping’an.
Anyone unaware of the situation might even think Xu Ping’an had desecrated the old man’s ancestral tomb.
“Master Wan, then… I shall be going. I’ll come to see you again next year. Please take care of your health.”
“Hmph!”
Wan Ji Cang snorted coldly but said nothing. Xu Ping’an knew the old man’s temper well—this was just how he was—so he didn’t press further and simply turned to look at Shen Li.
“Senior Brother Shen, and all the other senior brothers, Master Wan, I’ll trouble you all to take good care.”
“Junior Brother, take care.”
The senior brothers all cupped their fists in return upon hearing this.
Xu Ping’an nodded, glanced once more at Wan Ji Cang. The old man had his eyes closed and head tilted to the side, no longer looking at him.
Since Master Wan didn’t want to say more, Xu Ping’an didn’t dally either.
He cupped his fists to the senior brothers, then turned and boarded the carriage.
The little eunuch on the carriage flicked the whip, the bells jingled, and the wheels rolled forward.
Sitting inside the carriage, Xu Ping’an shook his head helplessly.
He had spent nearly half an hour explaining inside the room just to barely convince the old man that the other party wouldn’t be asking for a bride price.
But because of this matter, he had also taken a good scolding.
Thinking of Master Wan’s old face—shame and anger mingled with a hint of relief—Xu Ping’an couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
He instinctively lifted the carriage curtain and glanced back.
Just in time, he saw Master Wan standing in the middle of the road, that aged face showing a touch of reluctance, as if watching his children leave home.
Seeing this, Xu Ping’an felt a sting in his nose, and the old man seemed to notice Xu Ping’an’s gaze as well.
His usually grumpy face softened into a few lines of kindness.
Lowering the curtain slowly, Xu Ping’an rubbed his nose and stifled the heat welling up in his eyes.
“When did this old man learn to be so sentimental?”
He muttered complaints under his breath, but a smile involuntarily appeared on his face.
Besides Uncle Hu—Wan Ji Cang—no one else gave him a sense of familial affection.
No one else made him feel that he wasn’t lonely and abandoned in this world.
But that was before; now… there was one more person in his heart.
Raising his head to look toward the distant Royal City, Xu Ping’an’s lips curved into a doting smile.
Suddenly, he really wanted to be close.
“Faster with the carriage.”
“Hey, got it!”
The little eunuch hastened, whipping the horses sharply.
The horses winced and sped up noticeably.
They crossed the river by boat and arrived at East Warm Pavilion. Upon entering, two rooms were lit.
Xu Ping’an hurried into Pei Qingxuan’s room.
Though the bedroom had no electric light, only two candles flickering, he vaguely made out a petite figure behind the folding screen changing clothes.
Xu Ping’an strode around the screen and embraced the figure suddenly.
But at that instant, something felt off.
“Lady…?”
How come… this figure was a bit shorter, a bit thinner?
Especially around the belly, it lacked that soft, springy feeling from before; it felt more like holding a slab of pork ribs—somewhat awkward.
Most importantly… Lady’s unique natural alluring scent was gone.
Instead, there was the youthful fragrance unique to a teenage girl.
Feeling the slightly trembling body in his arms, Xu Ping’an looked ahead, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.
“Do you think I’ll believe it if I say this is a misunderstanding?”
The small figure hesitated, trembling all over.
She first shook her head, then seemed to sense something was wrong and nodded quickly.
Three nods later, she felt uncertain again and wanted to shake her head, but her shame made her lower her head.
“Um… may I ask, why are you here?”
No sooner had he spoken than Pei Qingxuan’s voice came from outside the door.
“Your dudou is…”
Before she could finish, Qingxuan’s eyes caught the two entwined figures behind the fiery folding screen.
Silent for a long moment, she put down the red dudou in her hand and glanced toward Xu Ping’an behind the screen.
“Ping’an, you… come out here.”
Xu Ping’an stiffly released the figure, his gaze unwavering as he looked up, taking steady, firm steps without flinching.
He turned around and stepped out from behind the screen, following Qingxuan out of the room.
Just as he reached to close the door, he clearly heard the girl behind the screen let out a shy moan of embarrassment.
The door shut.
Qingxuan stood before him, head lowered in silence. Xu Ping’an sighed and stepped forward, blocking her gently in his arms.
“Lady, this is a misunderstanding.”
“I know…”
Qingxuan’s voice was soft, somewhat defeated, even a little fearful—but there was no hatred.
Feeling the slight trembling of the beauty in his arms, Xu Ping’an felt a surge of guilt.
“Lady, it’s my fault.”
That one sentence instantly made the beauty in his arms turn to him and bury her head against his chest.
Tears burst forth like a broken dam, flooding uncontrollably.
Seeing Qingxuan reduced to a weeping mess in his embrace, he ached in his heart but felt helpless.
Who would have thought the one changing clothes behind the bedroom screen wasn’t the lady of this house?
“It’s your Husband’s fault. Don’t cry anymore; seeing you cry breaks my heart.”
Xu Ping’an whispered soothingly to the lady in his arms, but she cried even harder at his words.
Seeing this, Xu Ping’an could only let Qingxuan use his chest as a handkerchief, soaking a large damp patch.
After about a quarter of an hour, Qingxuan’s tears finally lessened.
Her voice, slightly choked, muffled against Xu Ping’an’s chest.
“Husband, will you… not want me anymore?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Of course it’s true.”
Gently helping the lady stand upright, he met her red-rimmed eyes.
“Lady, remember this: I, Xu Ping’an, might not want anyone else, but I will never not want you.”
“Mm!”
“Then… what about her?”
Her?
Who else could it be but Princess Yuanle in this very room?
Before, Xu Ping’an might have confidently named one or two options.
But now, after seeing her body, in this era, looking at a body was no simple glance.
That was equivalent to destroying her purity.
To put it bluntly, it was hardly different from having taken her.
Could he turn around and say it’s not his problem and just toss her aside?
He couldn’t!
If he did, that Princess Yuanle would probably hang herself tonight.
And tomorrow, Xu Ping’an could switch professions—from doctor to coroner.
But what else could he do?
“So… just leave it be?”
But as soon as Xu Ping’an finished speaking, Qingxuan’s eyes rolled sharply to him, and she asked again:
“What about her?”