“Must we really stand here talking like this?” Wei Yan’s brow and eyes carried a smile, his expression soft and gentle: “There are chairs over there — shall we sit?”

The sunlight filtered through the latticed gaps in the window, scattering itself across his fine, clear features — as though a faint, soft luminescence had settled around him.

Ling Jingshu could not help but smile along, and gave a quiet assent.

When the two of them had each settled into their seats, she became aware that something was not quite right.

These two chairs were the ones Wei Yan and Ling Xiao had been using earlier. For the acupuncture, the chairs had been placed quite close together. Now that the two of them sat down, they were immediately “face to face, almost within reach” — close enough that with a simple glance they could see each other’s features clearly, and even hear one another’s faint breath.

Ling Jingshu felt a mild flutter of discomfort. Before she could even say a word, Wei Yan smiled apologetically: “Sitting this close together — does it make you uneasy? If so, shall I move a little further away?”

The words said one thing, yet his body did not move at all, and that pair of dark, bright eyes remained fixed on her, unwavering.

In this moment, his eyes held her image, full and complete.

Ling Jingshu’s cheeks grew faintly warm. She composed herself with a deliberate smile: “As long as there is no contact, there is nothing wrong. I am perfectly fine right now, am I not? Besides, you are a physician and I am your patient. It is already a hardship on you that you cannot take my pulse. Surely you do not also need to be driven to sit far away from me?”

She did not know which particular line had struck Wei Yan as amusing, but he broke into helpless laughter.

Only at this moment did Ling Jingshu notice — Wei Yan had a small dimple on his face.

A dimple on a woman lent her a playful and endearing look. The dimple on Wei Yan’s face proved unexpectedly no less charming. When he laughed, the clean lines of his face swept upward, and together with that dimple — faintly there and then gone — it made one’s heart quicken uncontrollably.

Ling Jingshu shifted her gaze slightly to one side, her ears quietly growing warm.

Wei Yan keenly sensed the subtle change in her, and a ripple of quiet pleasure flashed through the depths of his eyes.

He had developed feelings for her, and naturally hoped that he too was different in some way in her heart.

Her resistance to any contact with men was still very strong. Whatever small fondness she may have had for him was still thin and faint — far from the point of any real stirring of the heart. But he believed that in time, she would gradually come to accept him — to grow fond of him.

Just as he had grown fond of her!

After a moment of quiet, Wei Yan suddenly said in a soft voice: “We know each other well enough by now — it feels too distant to keep calling you Miss Ling. May I call you A’Shu?”

Ling Jingshu started slightly, and looked over.

Wei Yan leaned forward a little, gazing at her, his attention exceptionally focused.

Ling Jingshu pressed down the flicker of strange emotion stirring within her, and smiled in reply: “Of course. You can call me A’Shu from now on. And I — shall I call you Imperial Physician Wei, or Wei Yan?”

The last question came out with a distinctly playful edge.

Wei Yan’s eyes brimmed with a smile: “In front of others, call me Imperial Physician Wei. When it is just the two of us, you may address me by my given name.”

To address someone by their given name implied that the two of them had grown one step closer in their relationship.

Ling Jingshu gave a soft sound of agreement. Looking at him, she found that the name Wei Yan refused to leave her lips, and so she simply let it pass in silence: “Actually, there is something I have not yet had the chance to tell you. A few days ago at Ling Bo Palace, Imperial Consort Wei Jieyu noticed that I had changed my skirt when I came out of the Jiao Fang Palace. She asked me the reason. I did not conceal it — I told Wei Jieyu about my strange illness.”

The mention of that day’s events caused the smile on Wei Yan’s face to quietly fade: “This I already know.”

The following day, when he went to the palace, Wei Jieyu had told him about it.

“…To be afflicted with such a strange illness at such a young age — it is truly a pitiful thing.” Wei Jieyu let out a long sigh, her voice full of regret: “A’Yan, if it is ever within your power, you must cure her illness.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Wei Yan replied: “Even without your reminder, Elder Sister, I would have devoted everything I have.”

Wei Jieyu hesitated briefly, then lowered her voice: “A’Yan, tell me honestly. Have you… developed feelings for her?”

Wei Yan looked at Wei Jieyu and said nothing — which was as good as an admission.

In Wei Jieyu’s heart, a feeling mingled of gladness and sorrow stirred. Gladness — because her younger brother, who had remained indifferent to women all these years, had finally begun to know what it was to feel something. Sorrow — because Ling Jingshu was afflicted with this illness, and she feared that Wei Yan would find it difficult to have his wish come true.

After a long silence, Wei Jieyu finally sighed: “A’Yan, you have witnessed her illness with your own eyes. If her condition never improves, what then?”

“Elder Sister, rest assured — I will cure her illness and restore her to how she was before.” Wei Yan said in a low and steady voice, his tone full of resolve.

Wei Jieyu frowned: “And if it cannot be cured?”

Things in life rarely turned out as one wished — nine times out of ten they did not. If Ling Jingshu’s illness proved incurable, what was Wei Yan to do?

Wei Yan said lightly: “If heaven has no eyes for this, then so be it. I will keep her company.”

Wei Jieyu was left speechless.

The two of them had grown up depending on each other alone in the world, and no one knew Wei Yan’s nature better than she did. He seemed approachable and easygoing on the surface, but in truth he was deeply stubborn. Once he had set his mind on something, no one could persuade him otherwise.

Over the years, she had urged him countless times to marry and start a family sooner. There was no shortage of young ladies who admired him. Yet he had remained unmoved all along. Now that he had finally let someone into his heart, how could she, as his elder sister, bear to stand in the way?

“Very well — do as you see fit. I will follow your lead in everything.” Wei Jieyu gave a soft, resigned sigh: “You are long past the age of majority. I am your elder sister, but I cannot possibly keep overseeing your every matter.”

Wei Yan’s thoughts were swirling in many directions, and his voice grew somewhat lower: “That day at Jiao Fang Palace — I put you through something difficult.”

Both of them recalled the scene from that day at almost the same moment, and fell into a mutual silence.

Ling Jingshu gathered her spirits and forced a composed smile: “At the time, there was no other way — it was the only thing that could dispel Empress Xu’s suspicions, and preserve my life. Compared to one’s life, what does a little hardship amount to? You need not blame yourself or feel troubled. Even without any involvement on your part, Empress Xu would never have been willing to let me off easily.”

She paused, then gave a self-deprecating little laugh: “In truth, I should never have concealed it in the first place. If everyone had known from the beginning about my strange illness, there would not have been so much trouble.”

Wei Yan furrowed his brow: “How can any of this be your fault? You are a young woman of the inner chambers, afflicted with a strange ailment that touches on your reputation and name — to have kept it hidden was the most natural thing in the world. Was she supposed to announce it to all under heaven?

“As for the fact that men have come to admire you and brought trouble upon you — that is even less your fault. You need not lay all the blame on yourself.”

Hearing these words, a warmth rose in Ling Jingshu’s heart and lingered there, slow to leave: “Wei Yan — thank you for saying that.”

The world was harsh toward women in so many ways. Even if these admirers had not been invited through any doing of her own, the people around her would still look at her with eyes full of judgment.