After a moment of looking at each other, Gu Yanxi spoke in a voice much lower and deeper than usual. “Do you think the south is more dangerous than the east?”

“No. The Chaoli tribe poses the greater threat. Much as we might hate to admit it, their combat strength is formidable — their cavalry especially. It takes two of Da Qing’s riders to hold off one of theirs, and even that isn’t guaranteed against their elite troops. Their ability to breed warhorses is innate; Da Qing has spent years trying to cultivate the same and still falls far short. That’s why Da Qing cannot afford internal turmoil — the moment it fractures, they will certainly come to take a bite. As for the Yan Kingdom…”

Hua Zhi walked to the window and pushed it open a little higher. Cold air rushed in against her face. “I don’t know much about the Yan Kingdom. How much does Master Lu know of them?”

Gu Yanxi turned and stood shoulder to shoulder with her. “Only as much as he has chosen to show us.”

Hua Zhi smiled. See — how easy it was to talk with someone sharp. She harbored no grand ambitions, yet she understood well enough that when the nest is overturned, no egg is left unbroken. A nation was a strange thing: when it prospered, its fortunes might not touch you at all — but when it crumbled, you could not escape the fall.

“By the way, I’d like to purchase that cloak. But as Master Lu is well aware of my circumstances, I can only defer payment for now — once I return to the capital, I’ll certainly settle the amount.”

Gu Yanxi gave a noncommittal response, saying nothing of how the cloak was made from snow fox pelts hunted by the Emperor himself — a gift given to him alone, not to any of the imperial princes — something no sum of money could buy.

“The gold bars, too, I’ve kept a tally of. I’ll repay them little by little.” Hua Zhi turned to look at him. “Master Lu has helped so much. I truly don’t know how I’ll ever repay it all.”

“I can’t claim credit for those. The gold bars are Shao Yao’s. Don’t underestimate her — each time she makes a house call, she comes back with a cartload of things.”

That wasn’t untrue. The consorts in the palace had come to trust Shao Yao greatly; whenever they had so much as a headache or a fever, they liked to call for her, and each visit brought generous rewards. So before setting out, he had asked Shao Yao to bring along a good supply of gold bars. Knowing Hua Zhi’s temperament, anything he did himself would only put her on guard. Shao Yao was someone she had placed in the category of safe — she would feel more at ease this way.

And just as he had anticipated, the moment Hua Zhi heard it was Shao Yao’s doing, she relaxed considerably. Between friends, such help was natural — and one day she would give everything she had for Shao Yao in return.

The two fell silent, yet the atmosphere was anything but awkward.

Shao Yao poked her head around the doorframe, brow furrowing slightly. In the end, she decided not to go in and disturb them.

As much as she longed for Huahua to become her sister-in-law, she was equally afraid that she actually would. The imperial family and the royal clans were far too complicated — each household full of so many women, every day a tangle of scheming and calculation. Just watching it all made her feel exhausted. She didn’t want Huahua to live that kind of life, not even a little.

But if Huahua were to become her sister-in-law, then Yanxi would be happy — and she wanted Yanxi to be happy.

No matter how much the Emperor trusted him, no matter how kind the Empress Dowager was to Yanxi — he had no home. Just like her. They were each other’s family, yet they had no home.

That was why she clung so fiercely to Huahua. That was why Yanxi had concealed his identity just to stay by Huahua’s side.

“Grasshopper?” Hua Zhi stepped out and found Shao Yao sitting on the ground, an expression of sorrow on her face, looking so pitiful she might have been an abandoned child left by the wayside.

Shao Yao leaped to her feet, face breaking into a bright smile, and every shadow vanished at once. “Huahua, when are you heading back? I’m planning to stay a while longer.”

Hua Zhi blinked in surprise. “Why would you stay here?”

“I found a medicinal herb here — it only grows in this area — and it’s almost ready to harvest. I have to wait for it.”

Shao Yao’s expression looked genuine enough, and Hua Zhi could well believe it; nothing else would anchor Shao Yao quite like this. She gave her a helpless tap on the forehead and glanced back at Master Lu. “Does Master Lu agree to this?”

Gu Yanxi smiled. “For her, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Last year she went into the mountains to gather herbs and was gone for three whole months. Winter had already set in and she still hadn’t come back. I was afraid she’d freeze to death out there — had to bring several brothers with me before we finally tracked her down.”

“Devotion to one’s craft always leads to mastery. Grasshopper will be formidable one day.”

Shao Yao lifted her chin with a satisfied air. “I’m already formidable now.”

Hua Zhi took her by the hand and led her toward the stairs. “Then let this already-formidable Dr. Shao Yao come and practice her medicine with me right now.”

“Who? Who’s fallen ill?”

The ones who had fallen ill were the younger members of the Hua Family — among them Hua Zhi’s twelve-year-old half-brother on the paternal side, Hua Baili.

When Hua Baili saw Hua Zhi, he struggled to sit up and bow in greeting. Hua Zhi gestured for him to lie back down. “Don’t move. Let the physician take a look.”

Though Hua Baili was the eldest son born of a concubine in the main branch of the family, the rules of the Hua Family kept him in check, and beyond that, Hua Pingyu had always shown deep affection for his principal wife — so Hua Baili had not been led astray. He was quite measured and knew how to conduct himself.

Hua Zhi had always held Bailin and their fourth uncle’s son Bajun in special regard, while keeping little contact with her other siblings. She and this particular half-brother rarely even exchanged words on ordinary days. Noticing Hua Baili stealing glances at her, she simply pretended not to see, and waited quietly for Shao Yao to complete her assessment.

“In simple terms, it’s just that his body hasn’t adjusted to the local climate — and his constitution is too weak. I’ll write two prescriptions: one to be taken as a drink, one to be used as a bath soak. We’ll work on strengthening his foundation.”

“Good. Go and take a look at the others as well.”

The rest of them had much the same problem — bodies too pampered and tender, unaccustomed to hardship of this kind, slow to adapt. In the hands of a mediocre physician, things could easily go wrong, perhaps even causing lasting damage to their constitution. But in Shao Yao’s hands, this very difficulty could become an opportunity to mend and reinforce it. That was the difference between a true healer and a poor one.

Hua Zhi had just spread out paper to write when Hua Pingyu came back through the door. His breath was short and quick; clearly he had been walking at a hurried pace.

A large brazier burned in the room, making it noticeably warmer than outside.

She gestured for Shao Yao to continue writing the prescriptions, then pulled a chair beside the brazier and helped her father into it. She turned away and wrung out a hot cloth. “Here, press this against your face.”

Hua Pingyu pressed the cloth to his face, the corners of his mouth curling quietly upward. This closeness between father and daughter was something they had never quite had at home. He had always felt his daughter didn’t feel close to him, so he had kept his distance in turn — and so it had gone, year after distant year.

By the time he had finished wiping his hands and face, a cup of hot tea had already been placed in his palm.

“Huahua, I’m done.”

Hua Zhi picked up the two prescriptions and looked them over. Seeing that the ingredients were all fairly common, she relaxed and called Chen Shan over. “Go and collect the medicines — make sure to get several doses. Keep the prescriptions safe. This one treats wind-cold; if anyone in the family catches a chill from now on, it can be used again. This one is for the bath soak.” She paused and turned. “Grasshopper — can everyone use it?”

“Not everyone. Your father and the others cannot. It’s only suitable for your younger siblings. I’ll write out a separate one.”

“All right, please write another one — it needs to cover my father and the others, as well as my grandfather.”

“Understood.”

Shao Yao dashed off another prescription in no time at all and handed it to Chen Shan while the ink was still damp. Chen Shan received it with both hands as though it were a precious object, holding it with the utmost care for fear of smudging a single character.

“Count how many people are in the household. Everyone is to use it.”

“Yes, I’ll go immediately.”

Hua Pingyu sat drinking his tea with measured composure, not glancing over in that direction even once — yet his ears were tilted as high as they could go, taking in every word. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepened without his realizing it.

He had never known that a person could be so skilled at concealing their own depths — that she had managed to deceive every single person in the Hua Family for all those years. Yet the moment he remembered that this person was his own daughter, he felt nothing but pride.

This was his daughter!

Author’s Note: Lighting up: Hua Pingyu’s defining trait — the proud, tsundere type.