Like a curse, every new prescription only lasted about three months before its effects on him diminished.

Mo Sigui touched the jade pendant at his waist and sighed softly. His insomnia seemed to be worsening.

After smoking a bundle of medicinal tobacco, he felt dazed. Though his body was exhausted, his mind refused to rest when he closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, An Jiu slept soundly until dawn without even dreaming.

The next morning, before An Jiu had risen, she found Mo Sigui standing outside her door. Thinking something was amiss, she quickly dressed and opened the door.

Mo Sigui turned at the sound. “I couldn’t sleep again.”

“Obviously,” An Jiu remarked, noting the dark circles under his pale, gaunt face. “Why?”

“Perhaps it’s because no one has discussed matters of the heart with me in a long time,” Mo Sigui said, tapping his fan idly against his palm.

“You just said you’ve grown indifferent to emotions,” An Jiu pointed out.

Mo Sigui frowned. “Must you bluntly expose others like that?”

After a moment of silence, An Jiu asked, “Do you miss Lou Mingyue?”

This was the wrong topic to broach. Mo Sigui jumped as if his tail had been stepped on. “How could that be possible? I’ve always been carefree. How could I be that kind of person?”

His decision to chat with An Jiu was a poor one. She never adjusted her words to suit others’ moods and had a habit of sharply exposing people. “Isn’t that so? You called out Ning Yu’s name in your sleep yesterday, and when you came out to smoke, you touched this…”

An Jiu pointed to the jade pendant hanging at his waist.

United as a pendant, separated as a broken jade. This was the token of love between Qiu Ningyu and Mo Sigui, originally a single jade ornament. When Qiu Ningyu “died,” Mo Sigui buried the other half in the cenotaph. Perhaps from that moment, they were destined to be apart in this life.

An Jiu didn’t know these details. She only noticed the crescent shape and guessed it was related to Lou Mingyue. Her correct guess was purely coincidental.

Mo Sigui clutched the jade tightly. “Let’s change the subject.”

“What do you want to talk about?” An Jiu obliged.

Mo Sigui’s expression softened slightly. “We don’t have to talk about anything. Come, let’s drink. I never expected the Second Madam to have stored so much good wine. It’s our fortune now.”

The two headed to the wine cellar one after another.

Da Jiu and Xiao Yue were still sleeping soundly in the cellar.

Mo Sigui selected a jar and sat cross-legged in an open space.

An Jiu also grabbed a jar and took a sip. She sighed, “If only Chu Dingjiang were here.”

Mo Sigui gave her an odd look. “Even a woman like you can suffer from lovesickness. Why doesn’t Mingyue pine for me?”

Lost in her imagination, An Jiu failed to grasp his meaning. She smacked her lips and said, “Then we’d have plenty of food to go with the wine.”

“Forget I said anything,” Mo Sigui said glumly.

An Jiu finally responded, “You’re asking why Lou Mingyue doesn’t pine for you? It’s simple – she doesn’t like you at all!”

Mo Sigui clutched his chest, lamenting, “What a skillful thrust of the knife!”

An Jiu continued, “Besides, even when you looked somewhat decent in the past, she wasn’t interested in you. Now, even more so…”

Mo Sigui felt like he was about to cough up blood. “You dare to twist the knife! Are you not satisfied until you see others riddled with wounds? With your temperament, it’s a wonder you haven’t gone mad.”

Seeing his genuine anger, An Jiu fell silent.

The two drank in silence for a while. Then An Jiu carefully added, “I’ve always been honest.”

She meant: that I’m not good at being tactful. Please understand.

Mo Sigui didn’t respond, drinking steadily.

After a while, he said, “Such is my wretched fate. So many people fawn over me, yet when it comes to heart-to-heart talks, I unconsciously seek you out.”

It was because An Jiu was genuine and straightforward, able to see through things at a glance. Unlike others who harbored hidden agendas, her very truthfulness often made her words seem inappropriate and displeasing.

Most of the time, truth isn’t necessarily beautiful.

“Longing cuts to the bone,” Mo Sigui sighed. “I wonder if it’s because I can never have her that I’m always thinking of her.”

“Would you stop thinking about her if you had her?” An Jiu asked.

Mo Sigui wiped the wine from his lips. “Isn’t that how people are? When we can’t have something, we obsess over it, believing nothing else can compare. Once we obtain it, time wears away the fascination, and it becomes ordinary.”

An Jiu pondered his words carefully, finding them reasonable. “When I first started receiving missions, I found it thrilling. I’d think about how to kill the target while eating, sleeping, or using the bathroom. But after completing the mission, it didn’t seem so special anymore, and I’d forget about it after a while.”

Mo Sigui stared at her, speechless.

An Jiu humbly asked, “Is that not right? Then what counts as truly obtaining something?”

“Well, take you and Chu Dingjiang, for instance. You’ve obtained each other, right?” Mo Sigui couldn’t resist trying to stab back.

To his surprise, the “stabbed” person seemed unaffected and even nodded in agreement. “So, does this mean we’ll find each other uninteresting after a while?”

“Generally, men’s hearts change faster,” Mo Sigui said.

An Jiu sighed in relief. “That’s good then.”

She truly felt relieved, but somewhere deep in her heart, a vague discomfort arose, slowly turning into a needle-like pain. It wasn’t particularly intense, but it made her heart constrict slightly.

Mo Sigui buried himself in drinking, no longer wishing to speak with her.

They stayed in the wine cellar all morning. At lunchtime, Sui Yunzhu came to call them. Mo Sigui had fallen asleep sprawled across a wine jar, while An Jiu was slightly tipsy.

Having drunk a belly full of strong wine on an empty stomach, An Jiu’s stomach burned uncomfortably. She left the cellar, saying, “Mo Sigui rarely gets to sleep. Don’t wake him.”

“Alright,” Sui Yunzhu nodded, likely guessing at Mo Sigui’s “hidden ailment.” She then asked An Jiu, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” An Jiu replied.

Mei Yanran’s cooking skills were excellent, and An Jiu loved her food. She used to think children with mothers indeed lived better lives.

But today, faced with a table full of dishes, her first thought was: Chu Dingjiang’s cooking tastes even better.

An Jiu froze with her rice bowl in hand. This was the second time she had thought of him.

Mei Yanran watched her for a long time before gently asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Why aren’t you eating?” Zhu Pianpian, hearing this, also noticed An Jiu’s distraction. She casually added a slice of dried bamboo shoots to An Jiu’s bowl. “Eat up, eat up! Fill your stomach and go make money!”

She couldn’t stand seeing people idly lost in thought, considering it a waste of time.

“Fourteen must be missing her father,” Lou Xiaowu pouted. “I miss my father too.”

“Don’t butt in!” Zhu Pianpian knew Lou Xiaowu had never met her father. “Eat more. Consider it your father feeding you.”

Mei Yanran glanced at An Jiu but said nothing more, lowering her head to eat silently.

An Jiu turned to Sheng Changying. “I’ll come to you later.”

With that, she quickly finished a bowl of rice, set down her chopsticks, and left.

“Hey! What do you want with him?” Zhu Pianpian couldn’t help but ask.