Hiring courtesans to accompany drinking was very common, especially for someone like Fan Yilin, a frivolous young master of wine and pleasure.

Chang Yuncheng wasn’t particularly disgusted, just frowned with some impatience and drank by himself.

The courtesan beside him wanted to please him but didn’t dare approach after reading his expression, so she could only dutifully pour wine for him.

Over there, Fan Yilin did something that made the woman cry out in alarm.

“Don’t!” the woman twisted and laughed as she dodged.

Fan Yilin held on and wouldn’t let go, whispering something in her ear that made the woman give another coquettish cry.

Chang Yuncheng coughed heavily.

“Lord, did you see that?” Fan Yilin said hurriedly, embracing the woman while leaning over to give her a heavy kiss.

“Oh stop it, don’t!” the woman laughed coquettishly as she pushed at him.

Fan Yilin laughed heartily and gave her another heavy kiss.

Chang Yuncheng looked away.

“Lord, did you see that?” Fan Yilin said again. “I told you, women equal the word ‘unreasonable,’ and there’s another point – women also equal ‘saying the opposite of what they mean.’ So when they say no, you absolutely must not take it seriously…”

As he spoke, he pounced like a hungry tiger, pressing the courtesan beneath him, making the woman’s giggles even louder.

What nonsense. Chang Yuncheng frowned and stood up.

“Also, this kind of thing must be gentle, must be persistent enough. Women care about face, so you must give them enough face for them to feel respected…” Fan Yilin didn’t forget to lift his head and speak despite being busy.

The word “respect” made Chang Yuncheng pause. That’s what that woman always said she wanted.

Gentle enough… persistent enough… giving enough face… is that respect?

When he stood up, the courtesan beside him felt both shy and expectant, looking at this tall man with budding desire. If this man pounced on her like a fierce tiger, it would definitely be… very comfortable.

Chang Yuncheng turned around, opened the door, and left.

When Chang Yuncheng returned home, Qi Yue was nowhere to be seen.

“Lord, the Young Madam went to Qianjin Hall. Someone came to request her, saying there was a serious case… ah… injury,” Qiu Xiang said carefully.

Chang Yuncheng hummed acknowledgment and waved his hand.

“Prepare a late-night meal,” he added.

Qiu Xiang breathed a sigh of relief and happily agreed.

“Also, when the Young Madam left, she said for you to eat dinner first, Lord, and not wait for her,” she said, rolling her eyes before adding this.

Chang Yuncheng twitched the corner of his mouth and glanced at this maid.

Qiu Xiang felt guilty under his gaze and lowered her head.

“What’s so good about her that you all protect her like this?” Chang Yuncheng said.

His tone carried some teasing, and Qiu Xiang checked his expression.

“Doesn’t the Lord also protect the Young Madam like this?” she said boldly.

So everyone could see it. Chang Yuncheng couldn’t help but smile.

That woman probably could see it too, otherwise she wouldn’t have said she liked him.

Thinking of those words she spoke, Chang Yuncheng couldn’t suppress his smile, and that tingling feeling all over his body came again.

He waved his hand.

Qiu Xiang happily withdrew.

Coming out of the room, Qiu Xiang was radiant, hurrying the maids to quickly ask the kitchen to prepare a good late-night meal.

“Dinner hasn’t even been eaten yet, and you’re preparing late-night meals so early. Miss is too hasty,” a woman servant joked.

“Hasty? This isn’t hasty at all. I wish I could prepare tomorrow’s meals too,” Qiu Xiang laughed.

This was the first relaxed expression Qiu Xiang had shown in days, and the maids in the courtyard couldn’t help but feel cheerful too. Everyone scattered with laughter and chatter.

This cheerful atmosphere continued, so much so that Chang Yuncheng, eating dinner alone, had a rare smile on his face and ate one more bowl of rice than usual at Madam Xie’s place.

At this time in the restaurant, Fan Yilin, wrapped only in a sheet, was far from happy – he was dumbfounded.

“…What? The Lord didn’t pay…” he stammered.

The two servants in the room nodded with terrified expressions.

“Not only didn’t he pay for the courtesans… he didn’t pay for the restaurant’s food and drinks either…” they stammered.

“How inhumane!” Fan Yilin cried out in shock and grief.

How could this Lord be such a person!

“Young master, quickly decide what to do. It’s getting late, and if we don’t go back, it’ll be hard to explain at home,” the servants said as they got dressed.

What to do?

“You, how much money did you bring?” Fan Yilin asked them with a bitter face.

The two servants turned out their pockets and purses.

“Young master, to prevent you from spending recklessly, the steward is holding our monthly allowances too,” they said with bitter faces.

It was over…

Fan Yilin was dumbfounded, wanting to cry but having no tears.

Chaotic footsteps sounded outside, then the door was kicked open with a bang.

“Which one? Which bastard drinks flower wine without paying?”

Four or five fierce-looking men with clubs rushed in.

Lord, save me…

Chang Yuncheng had completely forgotten about Fan Yilin when he saw the servant being brought in and couldn’t help but be startled.

“You want me to pay?” he asked.

The bruised and battered servant looked up awkwardly and quickly nodded.

“Not to mention whether the Fan family, called the first salt merchant of Shaanxi, has money, even the Wang family with their estate called the Little Jiangnan of Yongqing, surely wouldn’t be unable to pay for a meal, right?” Chang Yuncheng asked with a smile. “Or are you determined to extort a meal from me?”

The servant was left with a bitter smile.

“Lord, going home to get money means being beaten to death, not going home to get money also means being beaten to death. Please save a life – it’s worth more than building a seven-story pagoda,” he stamped his foot and kowtowed, unable to tell outsiders about his family’s affairs.

Chang Yuncheng understood and couldn’t help but laugh loudly again, throwing a bag of money to him.

“No guts, yet trying to play the rake,” he laughed.

The servant didn’t care about his mockery, quickly kowtowed, grabbed the money and ran. After running a few steps, he came back.

“Lord, my young master told me to tell you that today’s incident was because he said something wrong again and was beaten by you. Please remember to be a good person to the end and send an apologetic gift. He’ll repay your kindness in the future,” the servant said in one breath, then hurried away without waiting for Chang Yuncheng’s reply.

Chang Yuncheng laughed heartily.

Before his laughter ended, he saw more people running over.

“What? Is there something else to report?” he asked with a laugh.

“Lord!” The newcomers were two women servants, their voices panicked. “Is the Young Madam here?”

“She’s not here,” Chang Yuncheng said, looking at these two servants in the courtyard’s lamplight – they seemed unfamiliar.

The two servants hadn’t expected the Young Madam to be absent and became even more panicked.

“This is terrible, what should we do?” they cried out in distress.

“What’s the matter?” Chang Yuncheng frowned and demanded.

“Concubine Zhu can’t give birth! The midwife says it’s not going well! The Marquis wants the Young Madam to come quickly,” the servants said.

I see. Chang Yuncheng nodded and immediately ordered someone to go to Qianjin Hall to fetch the Young Madam.

The servant was about to go when he called out again.

“I’ll go myself,” he said, striding out while Qiu Xiang hurried to bring a large cloak and follow.

Night had just fallen and the streets were still bustling. Because of the urgency, Chang Yuncheng didn’t take a carriage but rode directly. Qianjin Hall hadn’t closed yet, and though it wasn’t as crowded as during the day, there were still people coming and going to see doctors and get medicine.

Chang Yuncheng dismounted and walked in. A worker immediately took his horse, but when he saw who it was, his expression changed instantly.

“Lord… Lord…” he stammered.

Chang Yuncheng nodded, tapping his riding whip in his hand.

“Go ask the Young Madam to come. There’s something at home,” he said.

The worker still stood there as if he hadn’t heard him.

Chang Yuncheng frowned and simply stepped inside himself.

“Senior Brother…” the worker called out in a sharp, loud voice.

This voice was so shrill and bright it seemed to lift the roof.

Senior Brother Zhang Tong had just finished treating a patient with a broken bone when this shout scared him so much he nearly jumped. He angrily rushed out of the consultation room.

“What’s happening? What are you shouting about…” he shouted loudly, but before finishing his words, it turned into a cry of alarm.

Chang Yuncheng was already in front of him.

“She’s here, right?” he asked, about to walk further inside.

Zhang Tong’s forehead instantly broke out in sweat. He stared wide-eyed and tongue-tied, and seeing Chang Yuncheng about to step forward, instinctively moved to block the way.

Chang Yuncheng stopped and looked at him.

“Lord… You… please wait… I’ll go… go…” Zhang Tong stammered.

Dear heavens, where could he immediately call the Young Madam out from!

Chang Yuncheng’s expression darkened, and he stopped tapping his riding whip.

“Where is she?” he looked at Zhang Tong and asked slowly.

In the charity morgue, after two sessions of adaptation, Hu San and the others finally wouldn’t huddle together without looking, but they still didn’t dare look openly, only carefully glancing occasionally.

A’Ru’s work had been completely replaced by Coffin Boy, and he could even spare hands to assist Liu Pucheng with retraction and sutures.

With his assistance, Qi Yue’s suturing practice was faster than the previous time.

“This is called mosquito forceps, used for hemostasis,” Qi Yue said, watching Coffin Boy curiously examine her tools, becoming more and more satisfied with him.

Coffin Boy made a sound of understanding, carefully examining the hemostatic forceps in his hands. Looking up to see this masked woman smiling at him, he felt somewhat uncomfortable.

This woman… how could she smile…

“Little Coffin, have you thought about what I mentioned last time?” Qi Yue asked with a smile.

What thing?

Coffin Boy was stunned.

“About being my assistant,” Qi Yue laughed. “This surgery must be fast and efficient, which requires highly effective surgical coordination. If you can assist me, then Doctor Liu can focus on monitoring the anesthesia to avoid anesthetic accidents.”

“Are you serious?” Coffin Boy asked, putting down the forceps.

“Of course I’m serious,” Qi Yue smiled.

Coffin Boy looked at her.

“Don’t you know what kind of person I am?” he also smiled, but this smile had some mockery.

At this point they had moved to the side, with Liu Pucheng directing Hu San and the others to clean the operating table and arrange the corpse – this was also to help Hu San and the others adapt quickly.

“Master, he’s Coffin Boy, he deals with dead people – how unlucky,” Hu San couldn’t help but call out.

Coffin Boy smiled faintly, showing no displeasure at these words.

“I know,” Qi Yue laughed. “How can that be called unlucky? Think about it – someone who deals with dead people all day, doesn’t that mean communicating between yin and yang? For patients on the line between life and death, having such a person present is very auspicious.”

Everyone in the room was stunned, including Coffin Boy.

Was… that so?

Coffin Boy looked at this woman.

“Hey, how much would you pay?” he suddenly asked.

Qi Yue laughed heartily.

“I think you’re very valuable,” she laughed.

Coffin Boy looked at her and smiled.

Just then the door banged open.

This sudden noise scared Hu San and the others into screaming and ducking with their heads covered.

Qi Yue, Coffin Boy, and Liu Pucheng looked toward the door.

In the doorway, under the pale lantern light, Chang Yuncheng looked over with a grim expression.