From that day onward, Luo Yuan would visit the clinic whenever he had time. Sometimes he brought Yuanxi the latest medical texts, which always contained detailed notes he had made. Sometimes he simply sat there, watching Yuanxi busily attending to patients. When encountering difficult patients, he would also step in to help mediate.
After several more days, Dr. Li informed Yuanxi that she could now officially practice independently, allowing her to begin diagnosing patients with simple conditions on her own, and promising to pay her a monthly salary based on the proportion of consultation fees she collected. When she received her first advance payment, Yuanxi was so excited her face turned bright red—this was the first money she had ever earned with her own hands. Since Luo Yuan’s medical books had been of great help to her, she proposed treating him to dinner as both thanks and celebration.
Luo Yuan naturally agreed readily. Though Yuanxi said she was treating, they only went to a small street stall, both because her purse was light and because she didn’t dare enter large restaurants for fear of exposing her identity.
The two ordered some simple dishes, eating and chatting. Luo Yuan seemed in very good spirits and ordered a pot of wine to sip slowly. Yuanxi couldn’t handle alcohol well, so she just ate and watched him drink. By the time they finished eating, dusk had fallen, and lanterns began lighting under the eaves around them, casting both walking figures together under a warm yellow glow. Luo Yuan was now slightly tipsy. Looking down at their overlapping shadows, with the gentle breeze bringing sweet fragrances, his heart felt as if brushed by soft gauze, and he suddenly wanted to take her hand.
This thought passed in an instant, yet made him unconsciously smile. Just then, a group of children about ten years old came running playfully through between them, quickly dashing toward the alley entrance. Hearing the children’s boisterous laughter, Yuanxi’s heart suddenly clenched with pain. She walked a few steps somewhat dazedly, then suddenly pressed her hand to her waist in panic, crying out: “My bracelet! My bracelet is gone!”
Luo Yuan jolted awake with sudden clarity, immediately realizing that those children were likely pickpockets operating in the dark alleys. He quickly turned to chase after them, but the narrow alley twisted and turned—how could he possibly find their traces?
When Luo Yuan returned with a helpless expression, Yuanxi stood anxiously in place with her head bowed in prayer. Hearing footsteps approaching, hope immediately lit up in her eyes, but seeing Luo Yuan’s expression, that light immediately dimmed. She hugged her knees in distress, burying her head in her arms and sobbing: “It’s all my fault… why was I so careless, why so careless…”
That jade bracelet had been specially bought for her by Xiao Du, who had personally placed it on her wrist. She had always treasured it greatly. On the day she left home, she dared not take anything else, only bringing this bracelet. Because she had to do rough work daily and feared damaging the bracelet, she carefully wrapped it in a handkerchief and kept it close to her waist. Who knew that today, in a moment of carelessness, it would be stolen.
Seeing her shoulders shaking as she buried her head, Luo Yuan couldn’t help asking: “What kind of bracelet was it? Is it very important? How about I buy you another one?”
Yuanxi slowly raised her head, but her eyes held nothing. The bracelet he had given her was lost, and with it, their last remaining memory. What would she have left to sustain her through the rest of her life? How would she endure those long nights when missing him made her chest ache?
All the emotions she had struggled to suppress erupted in that moment. The whirlpool of longing crashed over her like a drowning tide, continuously tearing at wounds in her heart that she thought had healed, beating them repeatedly until they bled profusely, leaving her covered in wounds. She opened her mouth but was too pained to speak, only covering her face and crying breathlessly.
Luo Yuan slowly walked to her side and crouched down. He had understood everything, hiding the sorrow rising in his eyes as he said gently: “If you can’t bear to part with him, why not go back and find him?”
Yuanxi sat on the ground hugging her knees, crying like a helpless child, shaking her head wildly as she sobbed: “No, I can’t go find him. They want to harm him. I can’t let them succeed. He can’t be without children—do you understand? He can’t be without children.”
Luo Yuan extended his hand, stopping an inch before her hair ornament, caressing her hair and cheek through the air. How could he not understand? Those pains of loving but not having, wanting to see someone but having to bitterly suppress it, countless nights of lovesickness, when even a distant glimpse would be a luxury.
Before they knew it, night had completely fallen. Cold moonlight illuminated two figures in the dark alley—one burying her head and crying uncontrollably, the other crouched beside her, his gaze focused in silent companionship. Luo Yuan’s palm hung suspended in mid-air as cold wind slipped through his fingers, finally bringing him to complete sobriety. He smiled bitterly and bowed his head, silently thinking: Wanwan, don’t worry. I won’t let you suffer like this anymore. At least one of us should find happiness.
The next day, just as dawn was breaking, a carriage raced through the long street, the corner bells hanging from its roof jingling, finally stopping in a small alley directly facing the entrance of Spring Return Hall.
A large hand lifted the carriage curtain, and a voice from inside suppressed excited emotions as it asked: “Is this the place?”
Another voice replied: “Master Luo said it was this medicine hall called Spring Return Hall. Don’t worry, my lord—once it opens, you should be able to see Madam.”
Xiao Du gave a heavy “Hmm,” and every moment afterward became extremely difficult to endure, until smoke slowly began rising from the houses along the street and Spring Return Hall’s door finally creaked open from within. Xiao Du suddenly lifted the carriage curtain, his gaze fixed deadly on the figure busying about inside the door. He couldn’t help thinking with gritted teeth: In the days without him, she could actually live so easily and comfortably, while he suffered day and night, wishing he could dig out all memories of her to gain a moment’s peace.
So he got out of the carriage with a dark expression and strode toward the clinic. Xiao Chun behind him was about to follow when Xiao Du turned back with a fierce glare, forcing him to shrink back into the carriage.
Yuanxi had barely slept the previous night and was still somewhat dazed. She sat dejectedly beside Dr. Li, mechanically organizing a stack of medical records in her hands. Suddenly she heard a cold voice say: “Who is the physician here?”
Her entire body immediately froze, only her heart racing as if about to burst from her chest. Suspecting she was hallucinating from missing him too much, she quickly looked up. To her disbelief, the person who had appeared in her dreams millions of times was actually standing before her. Yuanxi was completely stunned, staring with incredulous wide eyes.
In just half a month since they’d last met, he had become so haggard. The Xiao Du before her had lost nearly a full circle of weight, his face covered in stubble, his eye sockets deeply sunken, and even his usually bright eyes had completely lost their luster. At this moment, those eyes were glaring fiercely at her, almost making her feel she had nowhere to hide.
Yuanxi was both panicked and heartbroken, not knowing what to do for a moment. She just kept lowering her head, wishing she could bury herself in the stack of papers in her hands and never come out.
Dr. Li could see this young master carried himself with noble bearing but had very unfriendly eyes, making him somewhat frightened. He quickly put on a smile: “I am the physician here. May I ask what ailment you have, young master?”
Xiao Du lifted his robes and sat at the desk, but his eyes never left Yuanxi, who buried her head and dared not look at him. He coldly uttered a few words: “Lovesickness!”
Dr. Li immediately looked as if he’d eaten something foul, unable to help sighing inwardly: This young master looks dignified and handsome, but his mind doesn’t seem quite right. So he cleared his throat, trying to keep his expression unchanged as he continued smiling: “This… this small shop can’t treat that. Young master should try another clinic.”
Xiao Du slightly raised his chin, pointing at Yuanxi beside Dr. Li, who was covering her face with papers and had almost curled herself into a ball: “I want her to treat me!”
Dr. Li looked back in surprise at Yuanxi in her male disguise, then turned to look at Xiao Du again. Only then did he notice that this young master’s gaze had been fixed on Xiao Xi since entering. He finally understood: No wonder this young master seemed off—so he had such preferences!