Even when asked about his lifespan, Xie Yingchen remained calm and composed.
But there was pain concealed in Gu Zhizhuo’s eyes as she said in a low, certain tone, “Your lifespan will not exceed twenty-five years.”
A heavy, suffocating discomfort weighs on her heart.
In her previous life, no matter how hard she studied medicine to extend his life, she still couldn’t keep him alive past his twenty-fifth birthday.
He died the day before his birthday, never having tasted the longevity noodles she made for him.
Qin Chen’s mouth was half-open.
He pressed both hands excitedly on the table and asked urgently, “Can you cure him?”
Gu Zhizhuo nodded solemnly, saying only one word: “Yes.”
Her beautiful phoenix eyes seemed to be shining.
The Young Master’s poison was indeed hard to clear; his pulse was weak, extremely thin, and soft, yet it was still far from the later stage when the oil was exhausted and the lamp burnt out—even the gods couldn’t save him.
There’s still a chance!
No. She definitely can do it!
She knew she was too young and looked unreliable.
But she really was capable!
“I can do it!”
Gu Zhizhuo looked at Xie Yingchen eagerly, her dark eyes so vivid they seemed to speak.
Xie Yingchen didn’t need to make any effort to guess—he could understand it at a glance.
He smiled softly and replied, “I know.”
And so, he saw a faint dimple appear on her cheek, and her brows and eyes sparkled with unconcealed joy.
She asked Qin Chen, “Do you have a paper and brush?”
Yes!
Qin Chen took out a charcoal pencil and silk paper he carried with him and personally spread them on the table.
In her previous life, after the young master passed away, Gu Zhizhuo spent countless idle moments repeatedly working through the prescriptions that could be used for him.
Now, with only minor adjustments based on his current pulse, she quickly finished writing a prescription.
Gu Zhizhuo said, “Young Master Xie, this prescription is mainly to treat your cold and cough, with some added herbs to strengthen your foundation.”
“The poison in your body has accumulated for too long, so we need to focus on restoring your health first before addressing it.”
“We mustn’t rush it.”
Xie Yingchen took the prescription.
Even though she was using a charcoal pencil, Gu Zhizhuo’s handwriting was nothing like the delicate, refined script of an ordinary young lady raised in the boudoir—each stroke was bold and forceful, as if it could pierce the paper, revealing strength and character.
Moreover, Xie Yingchen even discovered that her handwriting actually bore a four- or five-point resemblance to his own.
It was as if she had once used his handwriting as a copybook while practicing calligraphy.
Xie Yingchen put the prescription away carefully: “Thank you for going to the trouble, Young Miss.”
“No trouble at all!” Gu Zhizhuo replied lightly.
While he was alive, the Young Master always looked after her. Even before his death, he paved the way for her to live a smooth and peaceful life.
But she hadn’t listened to him.
She had let down the Young Master’s expectations.
“Young Master Xie,” Gu Zhizhuo said seriously, “you must take your medicine properly.”
She stared at him seriously, her dark phoenix eyes seeming to spell out three words: Be obedient.
Such simplicity and straightforwardness, without any twists or turns, made him feel especially at ease.
Xie Yingchen chuckled softly and nodded: “I’ll be obedient.”
Gu Zhizhuo’s eyes curved in a smile: “Use this prescription for now. In three days, I will go to Baiji Hall. If you’re able to come out, I will give you a follow-up examination.”
“Baiji Hall is on Zhuque Street, near the end of the street. It’s run by my family.”
To be precise, it was part of Gu Zhizhuo’s birth mother, Lady Wang’s, dowry, and it was currently being managed by one of her trusted maids.
Did she just say, “If you’re able to come out”? Qin Chen raised his brows slightly. Young Master had mentioned before that, upon returning to the capital, he might be trapped in the palace—and that leaving to establish his own residence would require the right timing. He hadn’t expected… that she even knew this too?!
Xie Yingchen lowered his sleeve and replied, “If I’m unable to come out, I’ll send someone to Baiji Hall to inform you.”
“Alright!”
Chirp, chirp.
A few chirps rang out in the stillness of the night, sounding like birds flapping their wings and calling out in succession. Gu Zhizhuo’s ears twitched slightly—she could tell it wasn’t real birdsong but rather a whistle mimicking it.
It must be someone the Young Master stationed outside the countryside manor.
Xie Yingchen smiled slightly and took the initiative to say, “All the Eastern Depot’s men stationed nearby have already been withdrawn.”
Gu Zhizhuo felt relieved.
She hesitated for a moment, then stood up reluctantly and said, “It’s getting late. Young Master, why don’t you rest here for the night and head into the city tomorrow?”
“There are plenty of rooms in the west courtyard. Your people can stay here for the time being.”
She looked around and was very satisfied! That spendthrift Shen Xu hadn’t taken anything with him when he left. He had furnished the place lavishly and comfortably, with everything one could need. It was just perfect for the Young Master to get some proper rest.
Xie Yingchen agreed.
So, Gu Zhizhuo said cheerfully, “I’ll have someone bring you some hot water and food. There’s also a small red clay stove here—feel free to use it as you like.”
Xie Yingchen stood up to see her off.
She slowly moved forward, but no matter how slow she moved, it still only took about ten steps to reach the door.
She bowed slightly, “I’ll take my leave first.”
Qin Chen opened the door for her and winked repeatedly, as if to say that once they returned to the Capital, he would come find her to ask in detail about the Young Master’s illness.
Gu Zhizhuo stared at his face for a moment, then said with a subtle expression, “You will have a bloody disaster soon.”
Qin Chen was puzzled.
“Be careful of your blood relatives.”
In her previous life, on a certain Zhongyuan Festival, the Young Master drank a few cups alone in the courtyard. Since Young Master usually didn’t drink much, she later asked Huai Jingzhi about it in private. He told her that the Young Master once had a personal guard who had followed him since childhood—someone who had been both a guard and a companion during his years in the Eastern Palace.
After the Crown Prince was deposed, the officials of the Eastern Palace either died or left. However, that young guard went with him to Liang Country and stayed there for six years. Unfortunately, not long after their return to the Capital, he passed away.
It should have been him.
So, she had never seen him by the Young Master’s side back then.
However, Huai Jingzhi didn’t mention how he died, and she didn’t ask either.
She lifted her skirts and stepped over the threshold.
As the door slowly closed behind her, Gu Zhizhuo’s expression was full of spirit, her eyes shining bright like a sky full of stars.
“Young Miss.” Qiongfang hurried forward, asking with concern, “Are you all right?”
Qiongfang didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she could sense the tension in the air.
She was extremely worried outside.
“It’s all fine now,” Gu Zhizhuo said with a smile. Then she asked, “By the way… who is she?”
She was referring to the unfamiliar young girl standing next to Qiongfang.
Qiongfang shook her head. She didn’t know either.
Before the young miss went in, she gave instructions that no matter who came or went in this courtyard, don’t interfere and don’t ask.
So she obediently hadn’t asked.
“This servant is named Qingmei,” the unfamiliar young girl said cheerfully. “Duzhu sent me to follow Young Miss for the time being. Young Miss can just treat me like a maidservant.”
Gu Zhizhuo: “……”
Well then, not only did he leave on his own—he even left her a maidservant?
Come to think of it, since when did planting secret agents become so blatant? Isn’t it usually something like—someone shows up on my way home, pretending to sell themselves to bury a parent, tugging at my sympathy until I buy them and bring them home, and then slowly gaining my trust?
Just casually tossing someone her way like this, isn’t that way too lazy?
Gu Zhizhuo’s thoughts wandered wildly, but she said aloud, “Then you can follow Qiongfang.”
Qingmei wasn’t shy at all. She smiled sweetly and said, “Hello, Sister Qiongfang.”
Qiongfang blinked her eyes. Although she still didn’t understand where this girl came from, since the Young Miss said to let her follow her, then she would just let her follow.
The rain had completely stopped.
Gu Zhizhuo had just lifted her foot to leave when a sharp pain suddenly struck her chest, as if she’d been stabbed fiercely several times with a knife and then twisted all together, and right after, a hot, metallic taste surged up in her throat.
She quickly pulled out a handkerchief, covered her lips with it, and coughed up a mouthful of bright red blood.
Gu Zhizhuo clenched the handkerchief tightly, making sure Qiongfang didn’t see.
Phew.
This time, she had intervened in too many people’s life-and-death matters and karmic entanglements—some backlash was inevitable.
Wuweizi Zhenren had treated her with great kindness and taught her everything he knew, but he would always tell her, “Heaven’s will must not be defied,” and he advised her not to be stubborn, not to go against Heaven.
However, if it truly couldn’t be done, then why would Heaven have allowed her to be reborn?
Having been reborn, she must defy Heaven and change fate—only then would this life not be lived in vain!
Gu Zhizhuo swallowed the blood in her throat, tucked the handkerchief away, and said nonchalantly, “Let’s go.”
She walked out with large strides, her footsteps firm, radiating a confident and composed determination as if she had no intention of turning back.
Qiongfang took Qingmei’s hand with casual familiarity and immediately felt the thin callus at the base of her thumb.
Qiongfang didn’t think much of it and just assumed she used to do rough work. She quietly said to her, “I have some face cream and hand balm the Young Miss gave me—I’ll put some on for you when we get back.”
The lantern’s candlelight gradually faded into the distance. Qin Chen withdrew his gaze and turned to say, “Young Master, Eldest Young Miss Gu seems quite familiar with you.”
Xie Yingchen was looking at the chessboard on the table, mentally replaying the battle between the black and white pieces.
These black pieces were truly aggressive, fighting their way out of a desperate situation where death seemed certain.
A path to life that leads toward the sun.
Xie Yingchen replied without hesitation, “I’ve been away from Da Qi for six years.”
Based on their ages, even if they had met once in childhood, Eldest Young Miss Gu wouldn’t have gone so far as to risk herself to save him.
He lowered his eyes slightly and added, “Besides, my father and the Duke Zhenguo’s Manor have never had any dealings.”
The Duke Zhenguo’s Manor has never taken sides. Even when his father was still the Crown Prince, the Duke Zhenguo’s Manor was wholeheartedly loyal only to the late Emperor and never showed any favoritism toward the Eastern Palace or any of the late emperor’s other sons.
His father had never minded Duke Zhenguo’s indifference toward him. On the contrary, he often praised him: For the Duke Zhengou’s Manor to hold military power for three generations and still retain the Emperor’s unwavering trust, the Duke Zhenguo’s Manor’s righteousness, integrity, and loyalty are all indispensable. Chen’er, remember this—toward the Duke Zhenguo’s Manor, only when “the ruler harbors no doubt” can “the subject offer his bones to be buried.” Only then can Da Qi enjoy lasting peace.
Xie Yingchen thought of Gu Zhizhuo’s phoenix eyes—dark and bright, as if they could see straight into one’s heart at a single glance.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips: “Still, the daughter of the Duke Zhenguo has surprisingly learned quite the skill in medicine.”
Qin Chen muttered, “She also claims to be a fortune-teller.”
Now that he thought about it, the way Eldest Young Miss Gu looked at him before leaving—it was as if she were staring at a “short-lived ghost[mfn]Describing someone who died early or tragically[/mfn].”
Qin Chen couldn’t help but shiver.
“Young Master…”
Qin Chen wanted to ask him to clear up some doubts but saw that Xie Yingchen was already absorbed in the chessboard.
He quietly stepped aside and adjusted the brightness of the glazed lantern.
Not long after, the countryside manor’s chief steward brought over some ginger soup and late-night snacks. Half an hour later, he returned with a bowl of medicine.
“Young Master.” Qin Chen held the still-steaming bowl of medicine, hesitating slightly. “You…” do you want to drink it?
Xie Yingchen raised his hand, took the bowl, and drank it all in one gulp.
Qin Chen moved his lips but didn’t speak. Well, at this point, it’s too late to question whether Eldest Young Miss Gu’s medical skills are truly reliable.
“You go bring the others in to rest,” Xie Yingchen said. “No need to keep anyone stationed outside.”
Qin Chen cupped his hands in acknowledgment and quickly left. When he returned, he brought back a carrier pigeon.
He took a piece of silk paper from the message tube tied to the pigeon’s leg and presented it to him: “Young Master, it’s from the Capital.”
