After trekking for most of the night, Tie Ci finally carried Rong Wei back to the teaching quarters. She placed him on the bed, then busied herself non-stop fetching medicine, cloth, needles and thread, and water. She re-cleaned the wound and bandaged it, then applied cold compresses. The towels were changed one after another, but his fever never seemed to subside.

Tie Ci grew anxious, fearing the wound might become infected. She wanted to find Rong Pu to help with the treatment. Just as she stood up, she was pulled back.

Looking down, she saw that Rong Wei had already opened his eyes and was gripping her sleeve.

He was running a fever, his face flushed with an unhealthy flush, his eyes bright and clear as pools of water. From this angle, looking at him like this made her heart tremble involuntarily.

“Don’t go out… just stay here.”

“I’ll go find Rong Pu to give you acupuncture to break the fever,” Tie Ci said. “I could also have Dan Shuang come serve you—she’s better at taking care of people than I am.”

“Are you unwilling to personally take care of me?”

“What childish tantrum are you throwing? The key issue is that your fever won’t break. What if you burn out your brain? Or do you want to become a sweet fool?”

“I don’t know if I’m sweet or not,” Rong Wei said with his eyes closed, yet gripping her hand tightly. “Why don’t you have a taste?”

“It’s over, the child really has burned out his brain.” Tie Ci worriedly raised her hand to feel his forehead. “I still need to go find Rong Pu…”

“Don’t. Don’t go find that lotus flower. I can’t afford to have him here,” Rong Wei said. “He’s always so passive-aggressive. Strange, he wasn’t like this before.”

“Could it be that he’s jealous of your beauty?”

“Maybe.”

Tie Ci rolled her eyes. Seeing sweat on his forehead, she took a sweat cloth to wipe his forehead, then naturally continued to wipe down to his neck, then pulled open his collar to wipe his collarbone. As she wiped, she thought to herself how beautiful this collarbone was—how many copper coins could you balance on it? Suddenly she heard Rong Wei say ominously, “Did you get my permission before taking advantage of me?”

Tie Ci looked down—good heavens, she had nearly pulled his clothes down to his waist.

She protested, “You can’t blame me, blame this hand. Huh, what’s wrong with this hand? Why does it have its own consciousness?”

“Mm.” Rong Wei closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling. “This hand even knows how to pick where to pull. If I were a woman, I’d have to sue this hand for seduction and abandonment, for being fickle and heartless.”

Tie Ci looked again—good heavens, this hand had pulled his clothes open but hadn’t pulled them back. A beautiful man like jade lay stretched across the couch. If he really were a woman, the Ruixiang Hall would have to open its doors to welcome another bridal sedan.

“How much longer are you going to look? Why don’t you feel around while you’re at it? Since this hand is so reluctant to leave, why don’t you just leave it on my body and marry me?”

Hearing those last few words, Tie Ci’s heart jumped. The playful banter she had initially maintained suddenly became hard to sustain. She paused for a moment, wiped away some imaginary nosebleed, and honestly pulled Rong Wei’s clothes back into place.

Honestly speaking, you really couldn’t blame the hand. Rong Wei had quite the figure to look at—the type who looked slim when clothed but had muscle when undressed. Some men, when thin, had a frail quality to them, their waists so narrow they could barely fill out their clothes. But Rong Wei had that ideal physique of broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. He looked extremely handsome and imposing in long robes, the kind whose silhouette alone could make people unable to look away, not to mention his extremely taut, supple, delicate, and smooth skin.

Some people were truly beloved by heaven, blessed with natural gifts—beauty and physique that couldn’t be improved by adding or subtracting even a fraction.

Tie Ci suddenly remembered that Capital’s Young Masters ranking. The judges really should come see Rong Wei. And that mysterious first place—he should step down.

Just as she was thinking this, her stomach suddenly growled.

After rushing around for most of the night, she was hungry.

She immediately thought that Rong Wei, having exerted himself after being injured, should also be hungry. Before she could ask, she heard Rong Wei say, “I’m hungry.”

“Do you have food here?” Tie Ci stood up to look around.

“In the cabinet, on the table, by the bedside, at the writing desk, in the book chest…”

Tie Ci had already found countless preserved fruits, pastries, wind-dried chicken, cured sausage from all these places…

“Interview question: you beautiful people eat like this, so why don’t you get fat?”

“We beautiful people are naturally gorgeous. Eating meat makes our skin good, eating pastries makes our complexion good, eating preserved fruits makes our breath sweet,” Rong Wei said with his eyes closed. “If you come often and eat often, you’ll become more and more beautiful too, mm.”

That “mm” was quite meaningful. Tie Ci snorted with laughter, unwrapping a package of preserved fruit while muttering to herself, “Like a glutton, even hiding food under the bed… only someone who’s been hungry would…”

She suddenly stopped, remembering what Rong Wei had said earlier.

When he was small, he must have often gone hungry.

Although born into privilege, he would go hungry one meal and full the next. The taste of hunger was so unbearable, so unforgettable, that even as an adult, he was exceptionally good at arranging food and drink, hiding food everywhere within sight.

He was also one of those people who spent their whole life healing their childhood.

Her voice was very low. At first, Rong Wei on the bed said nothing, but after a long while he said, “Don’t overthink it. I just naturally love to eat. Choose what you like to eat, but don’t eat too many sweets—you’ll get nauseous.”

Tie Ci ate a little randomly, then stood up and said, “These things aren’t suitable for a sick person. I’ll go make you some porridge.”

Rong Wei chuckled softly, “Do you know how?”

To his surprise, Tie Ci said, “I do. All of us martial siblings know some cooking skills. If you can’t cook, it won’t do—Master would stuff you into the stove to burn as firewood if you went hungry.”

As Master used to say, if you can’t even cook rice, what use are you!

Although her status limited her and she rarely went to Master’s place, she still had to know the basics. It was just that her talent was limited, so her technique was mediocre.

Rong Wei’s place had everything—oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, rice, flour, pots. There was a small kitchen downstairs. Tie Ci wasn’t comfortable leaving Rong Wei alone, so she moved a small stove into the room and sat by the door slowly cooking porridge.

When Rong Wei woke from his drowsy sleep, what he saw was that person sitting properly in the dawn light outside the door, cooking porridge.

He knew that Ye Shiba appeared casual but was actually someone who took things seriously. Her sleeves were rolled high, holding a ladle, constantly stirring the porridge in the pot to make it thicker. Steam rose up, tinting the dawn light, the green bamboo, the bright red morning glow, and the fine crystalline droplets on her messy bangs.

The rich, pure fragrance of rice porridge drifted over, and he felt even hungrier.

The door next door creaked, and someone stepped out while opening the door, saying, “Whose family is cooking such fragrant porridge, disturbing peaceful dreams…” Turning around and seeing Tie Ci, he said in surprise, “You?”

Rong Wei recognized this as the voice of their neighbor, Teacher Yao.

At the doorway, Tie Ci also recognized this instructor. She hadn’t expected him to live next to Rong Wei. She put down her ladle, stood up, and bowed to greet the teacher.

Although she didn’t like this old teacher, basic respect for teachers and the Way couldn’t be abandoned.

Teacher Yao looked at Tie Ci with surprise, then glanced at the half-closed room. Not knowing what he was thinking, his expression instantly became strange and unpleasant. He said disdainfully, “Ye Shiba, although you’re arrogant and disrespectful, I’ve always seen you as someone with backbone. But now you’re leaving your quarters in the middle of the night, entangling inappropriately with a teacher. Are you trying to ruin your own reputation, or the good name of our teaching quarters?”

Inside the room, Rong Wei frowned.

This Old Yao was a pedantic scholar. Supposedly he had backing and had always relied on his seniority in the academy, looking down on others. He came here to teach archery and lived next door to this person. Who knew what had caught his eye—he was always scowling with no good expression. Now he was even bullying Ye Shiba?

He propped himself up halfway, preparing to struggle out of bed to give the old fool a face full of flowers.

But he heard Ye Shiba at the door sit back down, stirring the porridge while saying unhurriedly, “Teacher Rong was injured while saving me. When teachers have matters, students should serve. I came to care for him precisely as an act of gratitude and respect for teachers. I don’t know what has caught Teacher Yao’s eye this time, that you want to pick bones from an egg?”

Teacher Yao angrily said, “A few days ago this old man had back pain, yesterday the Teaching Assistant had a cold, the Mathematics Assistant had a headache—how come I never saw you come to attend to them?!”

Tie Ci continued without pause, saying mildly, “Because you’re ugly.”

“…”

Inside the room, Rong Wei burst out laughing and lay back down.

Outside, Old Yao: “What did you say?”

“I said,” Tie Ci stood up and suddenly called loudly, “Teaching Assistant Ying! Assistant Xia! I heard you both were ill? This student has porridge here and will bring it to you right away!”

Someone downstairs leisurely said “Ah,” and replied, “Thank you, Eighteen. You use it yourself. Old Yao, what are you doing so early in the morning? Come, come, do a set of exercises with this old man, guaranteed to make you feel refreshed all day!”

The door of the room next to the neighbor banged open, and the goatee-bearded Assistant who taught mathematics strode out, grabbing Teacher Yao and walking away. “Don’t use me as a shield. I get headaches when I see people babbling nonsense! Getting upset with a kid so early in the morning—come on, let’s go!”

Teacher Yao was pulled along stumbling, angrily turning back: “Such a performance of filial piety! Sneaking around in the middle of the night, this old man heard strange sounds all night—do you really think I don’t know about your activities!”

Only then did Tie Ci understand why this old fellow had been speaking so ambiguously. He had apparently misunderstood something from the sounds in this room last night. But they weren’t here for most of last night—where did these “strange sounds all night” come from?

“Cooking porridge with the door open, properly dressed, receiving guests openly. Where do these strange sounds come from?” Tie Ci said earnestly. “Teacher Yao is learned—do you know the saying that those with Buddha in their hearts see Buddha, while those with demons in their hearts see demons?”

Old Yao was so angry his throat caught.

Assistant Xia angrily spat, “Ye Shiba! We know you have a sharp tongue—know when to stop!”

Tie Ci smiled and bowed to see them off. She ladled a bowl of porridge and brought it back to Rong Wei’s bedside.

“I’ve discovered you’ve never lost a verbal battle,” Rong Wei said.

“You’re too kind, too kind. I still lose fights quite often,” Tie Ci said modestly, putting down the porridge bowl. Before Rong Wei could speak, she said: “Teacher, you surely wouldn’t be shameless enough to say ‘feed me,’ would you?”

“No,” Rong Wei answered.

Tie Ci had just revealed a satisfied smile when she heard this scoundrel say, “Monkey Brother, your master only has one hand and can’t manage the porridge. Please pluck a hair and conjure a little monkey to serve your master.”

Tie Ci: “…”

“The Stone Monkey Legend” had appeared hundreds of years ago and remained popular, now a timeless classic that everyone knew by heart.

According to Master, that was done by her fellow townsman.

Plucking a tuft of fur and blowing dozens of little monkeys sounded cute, but when she first heard it as a child, she wondered: pulling out a whole handful—wouldn’t that hurt?

“Master,” she said, “this disciple’s body and hair are received from my parents and I dare not carelessly damage them. Let me go catch you a monkey from the forest.”

She was about to turn around—it was daylight, and she should return to prepare for class.

A hand caught her sleeve. She turned back helplessly to see Rong Wei propping himself up, laughing: “Alright, alright, don’t run. I’ll drink it myself, I’ll drink it myself—isn’t that fine?”

From Tie Ci’s bird’s-eye view, she could see the slight curve at the corners of his eyes, looking so pitiful and aggrieved, inexplicably reminding her of a well-behaved but wronged puppy.

Looking again at his injured arm propped against the bedside, trying to ladle porridge somewhat awkwardly with one hand, she immediately softened, stepped forward to help him sit up, placed a cushion behind him, picked up the bowl and said, “Master, this Old Sun has always been soft-hearted. Please don’t chant any more tight-band spells at Old Sun.”

She blew on the porridge in the spoon and fed it to him. Rong Wei opened his mouth to take it. Tie Ci tried to withdraw the spoon but couldn’t—looking closer, she saw Rong Wei had bitten down on the spoon, his dark, brilliant eyes staring at her with laughter.

Tie Ci said helplessly, “Master, which demon has bewitched your soul again?”

“I’m the monkey,” Rong Wei said. “You!”

“…”