“Yes, Jiu’er.” Yang Sheng nodded, accepting the order.

Feng Jiu’er gave a few more detailed instructions before preparing to leave.

Before she left, she couldn’t help turning back to look at Leng Xuepiao.

“Xuepiao, I’m taking Yu Jingfeng with me for now. Keep count of how much herb he still owes you to grind — once he’s back, he’ll finish the job.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll come back.”

“Mm.” Leng Xuepiao pressed her lips together and nodded. “Jiu’er, you must bring him back so he can finish the task.”

“Alright.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and turned to leave.

Xuepiao’s condition had only just started to improve — the moment Yu Jingfeng left, would she fall back into quiet silence again?

There was no helping it — once the battle began, with Feng Jiu’er leaving, there was no way Yu Jingfeng could stay behind either.

Rather than simply taking him away without a word, Feng Jiu’er felt it was better to make things clear.

Xuepiao didn’t understand the ways of the world, didn’t know the full situation, and wouldn’t ask many questions — she’d just bury everything inside herself alone, which truly wasn’t easy.

Once she’d dealt with Chen Hong, Feng Jiu’er would be sure to drag Yu Jingfeng back to finish his task.

Feng Jiu’er left, with Yang Sheng following behind her.

The moment they stepped out of the main hall, Yu Jingfeng set down his pestle and stood.

“Ninth Miss, something wrong?”

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er looked at him and nodded. “We’re about to go to war. I need to head back.”

“Alright.” Yu Jingfeng wiped his hands and bent to pick up the stone basin. “Ninth Miss, wait for me a moment, I’ll be quick.”

The moment he finished speaking, Yu Jingfeng carried the basin and hurried into the pharmacy.

He was out again in no time, striding into the main hall.

“Miss Leng, I have important business to attend to. Wait for me to come back.”

“You’d better come back.”

Leng Xuepiao’s words carried out to where Feng Jiu’er could hear them.

She let the corner of her mouth curve slightly and stepped away.

“I will!” Yu Jingfeng left those two words behind and turned to leave.

After Leng Xuepiao said that faintly reluctant line, she lowered her head and picked up her writing brush, and there was no telling whether it had been genuine reluctance or just words that had slipped out.

But at the very least, that last soft, gentle line left Yu Jingfeng feeling immensely pleased.

It made him walk out practically floating on air.

The moment the three of them left the courtyard and mounted their horses, Yu Jingfeng turned his head to look at Feng Jiu’er.

“Ninth Miss, do you think Miss Leng has feelings for me?”

“She just told me I absolutely had to come back — that must mean she has feelings for me, right?”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a woman say something like that to me. That’s what she meant, there’s no mistake, right?”

Yu Jingfeng lifted his gaze to the sky, the smile at the corners of his mouth deepening.

Feng Jiu’er cleared her throat lightly, swallowing back a laugh that had nearly escaped.

Given how earnestly, how innocently he meant it, she couldn’t bring herself to laugh at him.

“Yu Jingfeng.” Feng Jiu’er reined in her laughter and called his name softly.

“Xuepiao is ill.”

“Huh?” Yu Jingfeng turned, looking at Feng Jiu’er, utterly disbelieving.

He looked as if he’d ascended to heaven, glimpsed something wonderful, and then been struck by lightning out of nowhere.

Feng Jiu’er dug her heels lightly into her horse’s flanks, and Zhuiyue moved forward at an easy pace.

“Ninth Miss, surely not? What illness does Xuepiao have? Is it serious? Can it be cured?” Yu Jingfeng caught up to her.

“No matter how much it costs, I’ll pay it. Ninth Miss, you have to cure her.”

…

“Xuepiao’s illness isn’t physical.” Feng Jiu’er said quietly, looking ahead.

“Not physical? What do you mean?” Yu Jingfeng was utterly baffled.

He only knew of madness, not the concept of a psychological condition, and of course he couldn’t make sense of what Feng Jiu’er meant.

“It’s a small psychological affliction. It’s not incurable.” Feng Jiu’er replied.

“Psychological?” Yu Jingfeng raised an eyebrow. “Then what medicine does she need? Do you have it? Ninth Miss, as long as you can find it, whatever silver it costs, I’ll pay.”

Feng Jiu’er turned her head to look at Yu Jingfeng, her expression turning a shade more serious.

“Yu Jingfeng, do you really like Xuepiao?”

With a “whoosh,” Yu Jingfeng’s face immediately flushed red.

He looked away, not daring to meet Feng Jiu’er’s eyes.

“Since she likes me, I certainly won’t let her down.”

“How do you know she likes you?” Feng Jiu’er couldn’t quite make sense of what was going on in Lord Yu’s head right now.

“She told me I had to come back, Ninth Miss, didn’t you hear her just now?” Yu Jingfeng looked up to meet Feng Jiu’er’s gaze and blinked.

“Isn’t that the sort of thing only a wife would say to her husband heading off to battle?”

Yu Jingfeng’s face flushed a shade deeper.

“Although she’s quite timid, and delicate, doesn’t know any martial arts, and can be quite fierce when scolding people — still, Miss Leng really is a fine woman.”

“Young as she is, if Ninth Miss thinks well of her, her abilities can’t be lacking.”

“You like her just because you think she likes you, and because I think well of her?” Feng Jiu’er frowned.

Lord Yu, this had to be the worst reason for liking someone she’d ever heard, didn’t he think?

If you can’t put it into words, just say you don’t know, you just like her — wouldn’t that do?

“That’s not it either.” Yu Jingfeng shook his head. “Ninth Miss, I can’t put it into words.”

Feng Jiu’er thought: well, at least there’s still hope for him.

“Yu Jingfeng, let me tell you — Xuepiao has a small psychological problem, it has nothing to do with her body.”

“She’s never liked talking to people, has never spoken up on her own, for as long as I’ve known her.” Feng Jiu’er explained patiently.

“If this little accident with you hadn’t happened, she’d never have grown close to you at all.”

“Medically speaking, her condition is a mild psychological affliction — it’s not something medicine can cure, it takes sincerity and care.”

“Care? How?” Yu Jingfeng’s brow furrowed so tightly it could have pinched a fly to death.

“Ninth Miss, how do I show care? Whose care?”

“Your wife’s, of course it has to be your care.” Feng Jiu’er gave Yu Jingfeng a smile.

Hearing the word “wife,” Yu Jingfeng’s heart fluttered wildly.

“Ninth Miss, don’t joke around, it’s not even settled between Miss Leng and me.”

Thinking of how he’d spent all last night thinking of nothing but his future wife, and hadn’t even knocked before barging in, causing the whole mishap — Yu Jingfeng immediately sobered.

“Right, Ninth Miss, you said to show care — how exactly?”

“I don’t mean anything by it.” Yu Jingfeng met Feng Jiu’er’s gaze and shook his head firmly.

“Miss Leng is so wonderful, I only hope she gets better. I don’t mean anything else by it, truly I don’t.”

“If you don’t mean anything by it, then never mind.” Feng Jiu’er looked away and spurred her horse faster.

If he truly meant nothing by it, then it really would have to end there — otherwise it would only hurt Xuepiao.

Still, did Lord Yu really mean nothing by it?

“Ninth Miss.” Yu Jingfeng hurried to catch up, following Feng Jiu’er into another courtyard.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ugh… Ninth Miss, I’ll be honest with you — I do like Miss Leng quite a bit, but I’m a rough sort of man, I don’t know if I’m good enough for her.”

“Ninth Miss, will you teach me how to show care, to help cure Miss Leng? I don’t want to watch her suffer through her illness.”