Not long after the three of them entered, a maidservant came forward to greet them.

“M-m-miss, please come with me.” The maid gestured respectfully.

Seeing Feng Jiu’er and the others pause, she quickly explained, “The boss is in the east wing. Steward Xiao asked me to bring you there.”

“The boss… has been injured.” The maid lowered her voice. “Ever since something happened at the estate, the boss has ordered the wives to stay out of sight in the west wing.”

“Last night the boss was hurt, and Steward Xiao has been anxious the whole night.”

“The boss won’t let anyone in to attend to him. Old Steward isn’t well and can only stay in bed, so up until now, no one has been able to enter the boss’s chambers.”

“When Steward Xiao heard that Miss had arrived, she had me bring Miss over, to see whether the boss might allow you in to attend to him.”

Feng Jiu’er nodded immediately. “Sister, please lead the way.”

Her face, too, showed urgency — though the thing she was truly anxious about wasn’t what anyone else might assume.

If there were no woman by Mao Linye’s side, it would make things easier for her to act.

“This way, please!” The maid gestured again and turned to hurry ahead.

Soon, the three of them followed the maid into a courtyard.

The courtyard was spacious, the flowers and plants on either side trimmed with great care — clearly the person living here had exacting standards.

Outside the wing, a woman in her thirties, with a fine figure and good looks, was pacing back and forth.

Catching sight of them out of the corner of her eye, she turned at once and came forward to meet them.

“You’re the girl called Xiaoxiao?” Steward Xiao looked at the only woman among the newcomers besides the maid.

Qiaomu and Gong Xinyue were both women, but currently dressed as men, so no one could tell at a glance.

“Yes,” Feng Jiu’er said, nodding.

“Good, that’s good.” Steward Xiao took hold of her hand. “Go on in and see him — see what condition the boss is in.”

“Your madam came by yesterday, but the boss still refused to see her.”

“She said she’d go find you, said the boss might be willing to see you — but then she said she couldn’t find you either. Ai!”

“I— I was outside the whole time, I never went back. I wanted to come in, but they wouldn’t let me,” Feng Jiu’er said helplessly, pressing her lips together.

“All right, enough talk. I’ll take you in.” Steward Xiao took Feng Jiu’er’s hand and led her forward.

Qiaomu and Gong Xinyue followed close behind, stopping only once they reached the outside of the wing.

Knock, knock, knock… Steward Xiao rapped on the door.

“Boss, Xiaoxiao is here. Boss, I’m bringing Xiaoxiao in now — is that all right?”

There was no response from inside, but Steward Xiao took a deep breath and pushed the door open anyway.

At the head seat of the main hall sat a rather tall figure.

Mao Linye wasn’t as tall as Ninth Imperial Uncle or Jian Yi and the others, but he still stood at least six feet.

Seated there in a commanding pose, even viewed from the doorway, his build looked substantial.

The man had both hands braced on his knees, his clothes still stained with blood, his eyes faintly bloodshot, his gaze cold and sharp as it fell on the open door.

Steward Xiao drew in a sharp breath, and the leg she’d raised to step inside drew back instead.

Even Feng Jiu’er stopped in her tracks, trembling slightly, retreating half a step and lowering her head.

“Come in,” a low, hoarse voice suddenly said from within.

Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes and met Mao Linye’s gaze.

She pressed her lips together and raised a pale, delicate hand to point at herself.

“Boss, do you mean… me?”

“Xiaoxiao, go on in.” Steward Xiao finally relaxed and even gave Feng Jiu’er a small push forward.

“Go on in — I’ll have people prepare bathwater, the medicine box, and some food. Go in first.”

Steward Xiao pulled Feng Jiu’er along, and halfway there, patted her on the shoulder, gave her another small push, then turned to leave.

Feng Jiu’er, who had been watching Mao Linye the whole time, blinked and walked forward alone.

“Boss, are you hurt?”

She came to his side and knelt down.

“Mm.” Mao Linye nodded, his breathing still somewhat labored.

Feng Jiu’er reached out, wanting to touch Mao Linye’s blood-stained arm, but her hands stopped short in the end.

She stood up and said, “I… I know how to bandage wounds. Let me tend to the boss in a moment, if that’s all right.”

“Mm.” Mao Linye’s reply was, again, just the one word.

He didn’t even look at her, his eyes still fixed on the doorway, his posture unchanged from before.

Soon, Steward Xiao reappeared, followed by a number of attendants.

Some carried the medicine box, some carried in a bathtub, others poured tea, and still others brought in trays of pastries.

“Boss, why not bathe first? Let Xiaoxiao attend to you.” Steward Xiao smiled warmly at Mao Linye.

“Boss, why not change your clothes first,” Feng Jiu’er suggested carefully as well.

Mao Linye said nothing and rose to his feet.

Suddenly, he bent his elbow slightly.

Feng Jiu’er caught his meaning and reached out with both hands, gently taking hold of his arm.

“Boss, is the wound on your arm?”

“It’s nothing,” Mao Linye said, dropping just those two words, and stepped down from the platform.

Feng Jiu’er asked nothing further and followed him inside.

Behind the screen in the inner chamber, the bathtub was quickly filled.

Feng Jiu’er helped Mao Linye out of his outer robe, her whole face flushing a deep shade of red.

“Boss.” She took a deep breath, averting her eyes.

“Would you allow him… to attend to your bath?”

Once the tub had been filled, one young attendant had not yet left.

The person Feng Jiu’er referred to was that very attendant, who hadn’t managed to slip away in time.

Mao Linye glanced back at the slight, thin figure, then waved a hand. “Everyone out. I can manage on my own.”

Feng Jiu’er nodded eagerly — she had no wish at all to stay behind — and without asking any further questions, hurried out with quick, small steps.

After his bath, Mao Linye changed into a clean set of clothes and came out to find Feng Jiu’er waiting right by the door of the inner chamber.

Seeing him emerge, she hurried forward to meet him.

“Boss, how are you feeling? Why don’t I bandage your wound first?”

She raised both hands toward Mao Linye but made no move to take hold of his arm.

To anyone watching, her timid manner might have suggested she simply didn’t dare overstep.

But in truth, Feng Jiu’er simply didn’t want to touch him at all.

Mao Linye paid it no mind and walked back to take his seat at the head of the hall.

On the table, besides the tea, pastries, and a bowl of porridge, sat a medicine box.

The box had already been opened, and everything needed inside was there in full.

Feng Jiu’er knelt down beside Mao Linye and looked up at him.

“Boss, I’m going to start.”

“All right.” Mao Linye rested his injured arm casually across his bent leg.

Feng Jiu’er took hold of his sleeve and gently rolled it up.

The wound on his arm was not small — the sight of it was rather shocking.

Feng Jiu’er recognized it at once: it was a burn wound from an explosion.

She stared at the wound, her trembling hands frozen in place, her body rigid with tension.

Mao Linye frowned slightly, looking down at the woman kneeling before him, the corner of his mouth curling faintly.

“If you’re afraid, you can let them come in and attend to me instead.”

Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes to meet his gaze and shook her head. “I’m not afraid!”