“You mean that young lady taking Buddha ginseng was taking the wrong medicine?”

Jingrong said.

Muruo nodded, then shook his head. “It should be.”

“Then why didn’t you remind her just now? Instead, you kept looking back at her.”

“I’m a divine physician praised by everyone—I don’t save just anyone.”

“Divine physician? I think you should be secretly laughing if people don’t take you for a charlatan. Anyone who doesn’t know better would think you had ulterior motives.”

“I do have such intentions, but I’m afraid that young lady doesn’t share them.”

“All right, you’ve just drunk too much. Your body is filled with all kinds of messy alcohol. Right now you’re still muddled and can’t think clearly. If this continues, who knows—your brain might get confused and cause a big problem.”

Jingrong’s mouth never showed mercy.

Muruo snorted coldly. “I’m not drunk.”

Bah!

All drunkards say that.

Jingrong shot back coldly, “If you’re not drunk and don’t want to remind that young lady, then why did you keep staring so hard? Your eyeballs nearly grew onto her body.”

“I’m just curious. As you know, though I could see her symptoms, I don’t know what illness she actually has. My heart itches—I’d like to take her pulse and get to the bottom of it.”

Curious!

Seeing the way his little eyes squinted, Jingrong found it amusing again.

He kicked at the wine bottles scattered haphazardly in the carriage, saying, “I estimate that group is also heading to Anfu. If we encounter them again, it wouldn’t hurt for you to examine her pulse.”

“Forget it. If that young lady takes me for a scoundrel, that would be terrible.” Finishing, Muruo stretched lazily, waved his hand, and lay down. “I’d rather be an idle person than someone who meddles in others’ business.”

He closed his eyes and fell asleep!

Although Jingrong and he had grown up together bare-bottomed, while Muruo understood him, he didn’t necessarily understand Muruo.

Muruo’s thoughts ran too deep, his temperament unfathomable. What did he want? What didn’t he want? To this day Jingrong couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps he wanted nothing, yet wanted everything.

Very strange!

Soon, the sky darkened.

On the mountain road, torches lit up the main road one after another. The shadows of large trees beside the path flickered and swayed on the ground, on horses, on people, on carriages…

Combined with the cold wind whistling through the forest, it seemed exceptionally eerie.

The road surface became increasingly uneven. Ji Yunshu was jolted wide awake with no desire to sleep, but Wei Yi was sprawled on her lap sleeping comfortably.

From time to time he rubbed his nose with his finger.

Ji Yunshu’s legs were somewhat numb from being pillowed by him, but she could only lightly tap the edges, not daring to move with too large a motion lest she wake Wei Yi.

She reached out to gently rub his head, a doting smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

But gradually, her smile froze and her eyes deepened.

She spoke softly, “Wei Yi, when we reach Jinjiang, I don’t know whether to continue taking you with me, or… leave you behind?”

She felt conflicted.

Actually, she’d been thinking about this question for a long time along the way.

The hand rubbing Wei Yi’s head gradually stopped. She simply lifted the carriage curtain to get some air.

Outside, the pitch-black forest had no visible end. The faintly flickering torchlight slanted across her delicate features.

Cold wind rushed in, mixed with the warmth from the burning torches, alternating hot and cold, making her shiver involuntarily.

Lang Bo noticed her and rode forward on his horse.

“Master Ji, are you tired?”

She nodded and said directly, “A little.”

“If we go a bit further ahead, we’ll reach an inn. Please bear with it a little longer. Once we arrive, you can rest well.”

“Mm.”

Lang Bo seemed to have gotten talkative. Seeing that Ji Yunshu was still alert and there was still some distance to the inn, he decided to chat with her.

“By the way, Master Ji, according to our itinerary, we should reach Jinjiang in another five or six days. Do you have any plans?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Jinjiang is your hometown, Master Ji, so…” He hesitated, clearly harboring deeper meaning.

Ji Yunshu understood.

She looked ahead, then said to him, “Brother Lang, are you worried I’ll clash with the Ji family?”

Lang Bo was embarrassed. “Master Ji, I’m clumsy with words—don’t take offense. I’m just asking casually, showing concern. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine too.”

His rough voice carried an honest feeling.

Ji Yunshu indeed didn’t respond to his words, but instead looked behind and asked, “Is Zhao Huai still following?”

“Following. Not a step faster, not a step slower, just like measuring the distance with a ruler. Very strange.” He quickly added, “But don’t worry, Master Ji. The prince has already instructed me to watch carefully. I absolutely won’t let anything happen to you again.”

Extremely determined!

She nodded, thought deeply for a moment, then asked, “What about that other group from this afternoon by the stream?”

“That group? They should also be behind us. There’s only this one official road—they’re probably also going to Anfu. But Master, why do you ask about those people?”

“Nothing, I’m just asking casually too.”

Uh!

Lang Bo’s expression looked extremely awkward.

Ji Yunshu also pulled her head back into the carriage and lowered the curtain.

Lang Bo was baffled, only feeling extremely embarrassed. He should have known better than to ask.

Half an hour later, they finally reached an inn in the mountains.

Ji Yunshu shook Wei Yi awake and pulled him off the carriage.

Before they even entered, a commotion came from inside the inn.

It startled the birds in the forest into flight.

It turned out the people inside were engaged in “shouting wine.”

The so-called “shouting wine” was mountain inn slang, meaning a drinking contest.

A pile of people surrounded a table, each shouting until their faces were red and necks thick.

In the crowd, a burly man covered in stubble was drinking bowl after bowl of wine, drinking until his eyes were bloodshot, his entire body already swaying unsteadily.

Across from him was a woman!

That woman had her long hair piled on top of her head with a chopstick inserted through it. One sleeve of her clothing was torn off, revealing fair collarbones and her right arm. A bright red belt was tied around her waist with a string of bone ornaments hanging from it, quite eerie.

Beside her hand rested an ivory folding fan.

Her left foot was propped on a stool, her elbow resting on her knee, drinking in large gulps from the dozens of bowls of wine prepared before her.

Not a trace of drunkenness.

Until—

The burly man across from her collapsed drunk on the ground.

With a thunderous crash!

His heavy, bulky body fell and didn’t rise again, his mouth still muttering, “I want to drink, I want to drink, I want to win, I want to win…”

Everyone roared with laughter.

When Jingrong and Ji Yunshu entered, they happened to witness this scene.

Seeing someone enter, the waiter shouted, “San Niang, guests have arrived.”

Hearing this, the woman finished her last bowl of wine and threw the empty bowl directly at the man lying on the ground. She picked up the folding fan, opened it, and walked over with graceful, swaying movements.

Infinitely charming!

San Niang looked over Jingrong’s group. Her sharp eyes swept once and immediately knew whether they had money or not.

She sidled up, her phoenix eyes painted with red makeup, extremely alluring yet not lacking the bold spirit of a woman of the martial world.

“Are you gentlemen staying at the inn? Or just eating a meal before leaving?”

Her voice rose sharply.

Jingrong’s face was cold and he said nothing.

Lang Bo said, “Arrange several rooms and prepare some wine and food to be sent upstairs.”