Yue Qinchun shook her lowered head. “You… do have a point, I suppose.”

Though that was what she said aloud, Yue Qinchun still hoped, somewhere inside, that Feng Yinan would one day say the very words Xiao Yingtao had just spoken.

She was no longer a child; she could marry and bear children of her own.

“All right, are you hungry? How about having Feng Yinan roast us a chicken?” Xiao Yingtao, suddenly thinking of food, licked her lips.

Yue Qinchun lifted her eyes to her and nodded. “I’m hungry. I’d like roast chicken too.”

The words had barely left her mouth before she walked straight toward Feng Yinan.

“Brother Feng, I want to eat roast chicken — made by you.”

Yue Qinchun’s voice reached him before she did.

Feng Yinan turned his head, looking a little startled, then watched the woman walking toward him, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Qinchun, what would you like to eat?” Feng Yinan grabbed the cloth beside him, wiped his hands, and then walked up to meet her.

“I want roast chicken, and Xiao Yingtao does too,” Yue Qinchun said again. “Oh, and Jiu’er will definitely want some as well — can you make enough?”

“Of course I can.” Feng Yinan laughed, a light, completely natural laugh.

Watching the two of them talking normally again, Xiao Yingtao could finally relax and go stretch her muscles a little.

Not until the third quarter of the Hai hour did the last two of the six physicians finally set down what they were working on.

“All done?” Xiao Yingtao stood and walked over.

“Mm.”

“Done.”

The two physicians stood together, hands on hips, stretching their legs.

Feng Jiu’er had no worries at all about them copying her work, which was why she had even shown everyone the analysis she herself had stayed up the previous night to complete.

Her people were not the type to merely copy others or flatter for favor.

People like that had no business sitting in this place at all.

“Go eat something first, just to fill your stomachs a little — once we’ve settled on the plan, we’ll go out and have a proper meal,” Xiao Yingtao said, smiling at them.

The two physicians came over together to the square table inside.

On the table sat some dinner that Xiao Yingtao had just had brought over again, still giving off steam.

Xiao Yingtao, Feng Jiu’er, and Yue Qinchun had already eaten their fill earlier, even enjoying some roast chicken.

After dinner, Yu Jingfeng had been standing guard outside the whole time, never coming in.

There was nothing he could help with anyway, and standing was more comfortable than sitting.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the three women sat inside reading and waiting, and Feng Yinan did the same.

Feng Jiu’er had no idea why, after eating the roast chicken, the two of them had grown so inseparable again.

But the process didn’t matter — what mattered was that the result, right now, was a good one.

Once the remaining two physicians had filled their stomachs, all ten people returned to the seats they had occupied that morning.

Yue Qinchun took up her notebook and pen, ready to take notes.

In front of everyone else sat a single sheet — the results of their work that day.

Feng Jiu’er glanced around at everyone, her gaze landing on Xiao Yingtao.

“What have you found? Let’s start with Xiao Yingtao — everyone share what you’ve concluded.”

Feng Jiu’er understood well that among any three people there was sure to be someone worth learning from, and naturally she also believed in pooling everyone’s wisdom.

Besides, her own people were no ordinary group, and she herself was still in the process of learning.

Everyone learning from one another and growing together — that was a fine thing.

Last night had been their first time studying this medicine; there hadn’t been enough time, and no one’s mind had been particularly sharp — even Feng Jiu’er’s own analysis had since been revised in places.

After everyone shared their findings, in the end, they settled on a plan for developing the antidote.

By then, it was already deep into the night.

In a side chamber on the other side, Xing Zizhou and Long Shiyi had prepared two hotpot tables, waiting for the people from the main hall.

Near the end of the Zi hour, the people coming out of the main hall were both cold and hungry.

When Feng Jiu’er and the others followed Yu Jingfeng into the side chamber, the smell of meat drifting out from inside made everyone’s stomachs growl uncontrollably.

Without a word, everyone went in together and sat down by the hotpot.

The meat was nearly done stewing; the vegetables just needed a quick swirl through the broth.

On a cold night like this, a hotpot was enough to make anyone forget all the day’s hardship and exhaustion.

“Long Shiyi, how did things go today?” Feng Jiu’er asked, after eating a couple of bites of meat.

Long Shiyi swallowed the meat in his mouth and lifted his eyes to meet Feng Jiu’er’s gaze.

“Miss Jiu’er, I was just about to tell you — that river is strange.”

Long Shiyi said this, took a sip of meat porridge, and continued, “We made it to roughly the middle of the river, and there, of all things, was a whirlpool.”

“The current was too fast — our boat simply couldn’t get through.”

“We tried many different approaches, but we still couldn’t get across, so we had no choice but to turn back.”

“Miss Jiu’er, I’ve already told Madam Yue about this. She’s still working out what to do.”

“By the way.” Feng Jiu’er glanced around. “Why don’t I see Brother Yue and Sister Hua?”

“I invited them,” Xing Zizhou put in. “They said they wouldn’t be coming.”

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and went back to eating, head down.

More than ten people, gathered around two hotpot tables, had warmed up the whole chamber considerably.

Feng Jiu’er looked down at the beef slices in her hand, cut especially thin, and found herself thinking of someone.

“Jiu’er, do you think this is thin enough?”

That day, when Feng Jiu’er had gone into the kitchen, she had seen Jian Yi holding his long sword in one hand and pinching a slice of beef in the other.

Feng Jiu’er had glanced at him and shaken her head.

She had gone over, picked up the large cleaver on the kitchen counter, and taken his spot.

Pressing down on the block of beef with one hand, she carefully sliced off a piece.

Using her slender thumb and forefinger, the woman picked up the slice she had cut and held it up in front of the man, waving it slightly.

“Look — this is what you call thin.”

Jian Yi set down his own long sword, took the meat from her hand, and laid it next to the piece he had cut, comparing the two.

“Jiu’er, you’re really something — this one’s almost see-through.”

“I’m not that good — I’m not even a professional. I know people who are, and they slice it far thinner than this,” Feng Jiu’er said, raising an eyebrow.

“Far thinner — can you still eat it then?” Jian Yi asked, puzzled.

Whatever Jiu’er liked, he was willing to work hard at.

He hadn’t expected that what he’d cut still wasn’t nearly thin enough.

“You can eat it,” Feng Jiu’er nodded. “Drop it in boiling water, count from one to ten, and it’s ready to eat.”

“Isn’t that basically eating it raw?” Jian Yi frowned.

“Not raw — cooked,” Feng Jiu’er set down the knife. “Jian Yi, you take your time and practice.”

“Just use a regular knife — it’s easier to control. Using your sword to slice meat for me — did you even ask your sword’s opinion on that?”

“As long as it’s you who ends up eating it, he won’t have any objection,” Jian Yi said, smiling.

The man others called Jian Yi the Sword Saint, sparing with words like gold, talked plenty when he was around Feng Jiu’er.

Sometimes, Feng Jiu’er even found him a bit too talkative.

He would also throw out the occasional corny joke now and then; Feng Jiu’er never once laughed at them, and would instead mock him for it.

After that, Jian Yi became the one who sliced beef the thinnest of anyone.

Still, aside from Feng Jiu’er, no one else ever got to taste the beef he sliced.

Jian Yi — where are you? Have you eaten yet?

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together and put a thick slice of beef, sliced by who-knew-whom, into her mouth.