The frost-white hair framed his pale face, yet he didn’t appear old. Instead, he resembled the morning mist, ready to dissipate as the sun rose. Even Mo Sigui couldn’t help but sigh at how fragile life seemed.

“Speak less, rest more,” Mo Sigui advised, lowering his eyes to read a medical text.

The small courtyard, which had been jubilant over An Jiu’s awakening, quickly quieted down. In another part of the compound, Mei Jiu’s cries of labor could be heard. After about six hours, the clear cry of an infant finally rang out.

Hua Rongtan stood outside the birthing room, his expression as serious as ever.

“Congratulations, my lord! Mother and child are safe. It’s a young master!” the midwife exclaimed joyfully as she rushed out.

Hua Rongtan’s body visibly relaxed. He ordered a reward be given and entered to see his wife and child.

The birthing room was a place of blood and mess. The midwife should have stopped Hua Rongtan from entering, but seeing his imposing presence and having received a generous reward, she only offered a gentle reminder, considering her duty fulfilled.

The room reeked of blood. Mei Jiu lay drenched in sweat as attendants carefully cleaned the blood and sweat from her body. Another midwife was swaddling the tiny infant.

Everyone froze upon seeing Hua Rongtan, then quickly bowed in greeting.

“Carry on,” Hua Rongtan instructed.

They complied and resumed their tasks.

Hearing Hua Rongtan’s voice, Mei Jiu tried to speak but lacked the strength.

“Rest well. The child is fine,” Hua Rongtan said softly, grasping her hand. “You’ve done well, my lady.”

A smile touched Mei Jiu’s eyes. She thought about how her child seemed destined to meet An Jiu, eager to be born just as An Jiu awoke.

As Mei Jiu drifted off to sleep, Hua Rongtan caressed her cheek before turning to look at the infant. He had the eldest daughter from his previous wife and believed he had been a good father, providing care and education despite his busy schedule. However, holding his small, soft son now made him realize how little attention he had given his daughter.

Fortunately, he had married Mei Jiu. Seeing his daughter treat her like a birth mother, he knew Mei Jiu truly cared for the girl. This made him not only love Mei Jiu deeply but feel grateful to her as well.

Hua Rongtan found it hard to imagine how the Mei family, known for their night assassinations, could have produced such a cultured and gentle woman as Mei Jiu. Her knowledge of poetry, literature, chess, and art rivaled that of men. They could play music together, engage in fierce chess battles, and discuss classics and poetry. She understood everything he talked about without needing explanations. More often, she would quietly listen, soothing his daily fatigue. In their home life, Mei Jiu managed everything meticulously, requiring no effort from him. She often cooked for him herself, taking care of his every need.

Hua Rongtan’s relationship with his first wife had been one of passionate, pure love that cut deep. With Mei Jiu, he found a soulmate and a steadily flowing love that left him utterly content. He felt incredibly fortunate to have such a wife.

The entire Hua household was filled with joy at the birth of Mei Jiu’s son, the heir. Mei Jiu felt slightly regretful that her confinement period prevented her from properly talking with An Jiu.

However, this regret didn’t last long. An Jiu and Mo Sigui soon came to offer their congratulations.

As a physician, Mo Sigui could enter the inner chambers under the pretext of checking Mei Jiu’s pulse.

As soon as they sat down, Mei Jiu’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked at An Jiu.

An attendant quickly reminded her, “My lady, you mustn’t cry. It could harm your eyes during the confinement period.”

“You may all leave,” Mei Jiu instructed.

The head attendant led the others out.

An Jiu rose and walked to the bedside. “Where’s the child?” she asked.

“With the wet nurse,” Mei Jiu replied, pulling An Jiu to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’ve suffered so much.”

An Jiu had been bedridden for half a year, reduced to skin and bones. After several days of Mo Sigui’s careful treatment, her complexion had only slightly improved.

“I can’t help but feel that the suffering you’ve endured should have been my fate,” Mei Jiu sighed. “Whenever I think of this, I lose my appetite and can’t sleep at night.”

She felt guilty enjoying a life of comfort while someone else suffered in her place.

“You’re overthinking,” An Jiu consoled her. “If you were in my situation, you’d have died long ago. This is my fate, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Ahem,” Mo Sigui coughed, feeling both pained and amused.

Mei Jiu was used to An Jiu’s sharp words. “I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t help feeling uneasy sometimes.”

An Jiu was too tired to comment on Mei Jiu’s innate savior complex. Seeing that Mei Jiu, despite her outwardly fragile appearance, had grown stronger inside, she felt somewhat pleased.

Mei Jiu changed the subject excitedly, “I’ve discussed it with my husband. After the child’s hundred-day celebration, we’d like you to be his godmother. What do you think?”

An Jiu stared at her expressionlessly.

“If you don’t agree, just say so. Why make such a face?” Mei Jiu mumbled softly, like a wronged little girl.

“I’ve thought about it and decided to agree,” An Jiu said, watching Mei Jiu’s face light up with joy. She explained, “Initially, I thought being entangled with someone as troublesome as you were already unfortunate enough, and I didn’t want to add more trouble. But considering that Hua Rongtan is quite capable, this child might not turn out too bad.”

Far from being offended, Mei Jiu became even more delighted, feeling proud. “I didn’t expect you to praise someone. It shows how truly exceptional my husband is.”

Mo Sigui, who had been silent for a while, chimed in with a smile, “As the saying goes, daughters take after their fathers, sons after their mothers.”

An Jiu’s face immediately darkened.

Mei Jiu hurriedly said, “You’ve already agreed, you can’t take it back. My son was eager to come out as soon as he saw you. It must be fate.”

“Or maybe he came to collect a debt,” Mo Sigui quipped.

Mei Jiu became anxious and scolded, “Cousin!”

Mo Sigui clicked his tongue and moved forward to check her pulse. “Women in confinement really can’t take a joke.”

In the end, An Jiu didn’t change her mind and decided to accept a godson, though she felt a heavy pressure in her heart. For an assassin, having too many attachments could be fatal. Although she might not need to be an assassin anymore, years of ingrained mindset were hard to change quickly.

After a while, both An Jiu and Mei Jiu felt tired. Mo Sigui and An Jiu prepared to leave.

Chu Dingjiang was already waiting at the door.

Chu Dingjiang’s spirits have improved greatly in recent days. He had shaved his beard, making him look much younger. However, his temples were still streaked with gray, giving him the appearance of having weathered many storms.

An Jiu took his hand and said, “Before, when you shaved your beard, you could pass as Hua Rongtan’s peer. Now, no matter what, you look like an uncle.”

Chu Dingjiang remained calm. “I would have become an uncle sooner or later. What difference does it make if it’s a bit earlier?”

Mo Sigui returned to his room to find Wei Yuzhi leaning against a pile of medicines, reading. The soft light in the room made him appear as serene as a quiet pool.

“The divine physician Mo has returned,” Wei Yuzhi said, looking up with a faint smile.

“Seeing them so happy together, don’t you feel it wasn’t worth it?” Mo Sigui asked.

Wei Yuzhi couldn’t see, but his spiritual power was extraordinary, and his senses were keen. He must have heard every word of the conversation between Chu Dingjiang and An Jiu.

“I feel sad, but I don’t think it was worth it,” Wei Yuzhi replied.

Mo Sigui raised an eyebrow, feeling that his words were insincere. Wei Yuzhi wasn’t someone who would sacrifice himself for love.

Wei Yuzhi saw through his thoughts but only smiled without speaking.

A drop of his heart’s blood had bought him two years of life from the divine physician. It had also earned him An Jiu’s heart’s blood in return. The reward was not small, so there was nothing to regret. However, the sadness was real. He realized that An Jiu would ultimately have no connection with him, except for that drop of blood that had nourished her. He no longer even had the excuse of seeking her out to retrieve the medicine.

Wei Yuzhi felt conflicted. Sometimes he wanted everything to be well for her, other times he wished to hurt her just to have some connection with her, to leave a mark on her heart.

…

Waking from a deep sleep, An Jiu felt much better and had a good appetite. However, she could still only consume liquid foods for now.

Chu Dingjiang promised to make her many delicious dishes in the future.

“Ah Jiu, someone saved you. Go thank him,” Chu Dingjiang decided to tell An Jiu the truth. He didn’t believe this would cause him to lose An Jiu, nor did he want to conceal it.

An Jiu, rubbing her half-full stomach, paused for a moment. “Wei Yuzhi?” she asked.

“You know?” Chu Dingjiang was surprised.

“He’s been in Mo Sigui’s room. I’ve known all along,” An Jiu replied. For some reason, since waking up, she had been particularly sensitive to Wei Yuzhi’s presence. She didn’t need to consciously use her spiritual power to sense him nearby. At first, An Jiu hadn’t thought much of it, assuming Wei Yuzhi had come for medical treatment and that sensing him at such a close distance was normal. Now that Chu Dingjiang mentioned it, she immediately guessed the truth.

An Jiu remained silent for a moment, then stood up. “I’ll go see him.”

“Mm,” Chu Dingjiang nodded, helping her put on a cloak before watching her leave.

The wind was strong outside. An Jiu pulled her cloak tighter and quickened her pace.

Before she reached the door, Mo Sigui’s room door opened.

An Jiu entered directly. A warm air mixed with the scent of medicine enveloped her.

“Why are you running around in such cold weather?” Mo Sigui glared at her.

An Jiu ignored him, removed her cloak, and looked towards the bed.

Wei Yuzhi was indeed there. His hair was frost-white, his complexion so pale it was almost transparent, his lips nearly the same color as his skin. He looked like a blank sheet of paper, or something transparent.

Their eyes met, and neither spoke. It was as if all they wanted to ask was already known, with no need for words.

The only sound in the room was Mo Sigui grinding medicines.

After a while, Wei Yuzhi smiled and said, “Sit down.”

An Jiu sat down not far from him. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Wei Yuzhi replied, his gaze resting on her face. Due to her long illness, her face was no longer the stunning beauty that had once made his heart skip a beat. Yet when their eyes met again, it still stirred his heart.

Wei Yuzhi frowned slightly, feeling a sharp pain from his wound.

“Calm your mind,” Mo Sigui reminded him.

Wei Yuzhi felt his secret had been exposed, and a hint of color suddenly appeared on his pale cheeks.

“You’ve saved me twice,” An Jiu said.

“You mean at Baohua Gate?” Wei Yuzhi quickly regained his composure. “Even if I hadn’t intervened, you would have escaped unharmed.”

An Jiu nodded, but even so, the fact that Wei Yuzhi had risked himself to save her was a kindness she couldn’t ignore completely.