Feng Jiu’er took Yang Sheng’s pulse, then wrote out a prescription before standing up.

She stood in front of the bed, bent at the waist, and bowed solemnly with a serious expression.

“Yang Sheng, you are my Third Imperial Brother’s savior. Do you have any requests? Please, speak.”

Though he was a subordinate, how many people were willing to risk their lives to save another?

“Miss Jiu’er.” Yang Sheng tried to stand up.

Shen Rong’er held onto his arm and stopped him: “You can’t move around carelessly for now.”

“Jiu’er, don’t take it too much to heart. Master Jiang was originally Brother Yang’s master—it’s only natural for him to save his master.”

Shen Rong’er patted Yang Sheng’s shoulder, stood up, and moved a chair over in front of Feng Jiu’er.

“Jiu’er, please sit! With you like this, Brother Yang isn’t comfortable.”

“He’s only just recovered with great difficulty, I don’t want anything unexpected to happen. Jiu’er, please sit!”

Feng Jiu’er withdrew her hands, looked at Shen Rong’er, and took the chair from her.

She set the chair down behind her and sat.

“What you two are saying, I understand it all, but merit must be rewarded accordingly.”

“Yang Sheng, tell me, what do you need?”

“Miss Jiu’er, I hope to stay by my lord’s side for the rest of my life,” Yang Sheng said, pressing his lips together and speaking softly.

The redness that had colored his face a moment ago had now faded considerably.

Besides rewarding him for his merit, Feng Jiu’er was also observing the change in his complexion.

It seemed that being bathed and attended to was what had made his face flush so deeply.

“On this point, I believe that as long as you do your job well, my Third Imperial Brother will surely value you.”

Feng Jiu’er’s lips curved up as she glanced at Shen Rong’er.

“You don’t have anything else you want, or anything you’d like us to arrange for you?”

Yang Sheng shook his head without hesitation. “There’s nothing else.”

“Given that the Third Prince didn’t hold past grudges against me and kept me by his side, I have nothing more to ask for.”

“Jiu’er.” Shen Rong’er knelt on the ground. “Jiu’er, there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

Feng Jiu’er looked at her and nodded slightly: “Speak.”

“Jiu’er, I want…” Shen Rong’er paused, unable to say the words that needed to come out.

She looked at Yang Sheng, took a deep breath, and said, “Please arrange for me to marry Brother Yang. I’ll be a concubine, that’s fine.”

“When Brother Yang finds someone he likes, he can marry another wife. I won’t mind.”

“I would mind.” Feng Jiu’er shook her head. “Rong’er, I know you like Yang Sheng, but you belong to my Tianji Hall—you shouldn’t be a concubine.”

“Rong’er.” Yang Sheng looked at Shen Rong’er, brows furrowing slightly.

Shen Rong’er turned and faced Yang Sheng: “Brother Yang, I like you. I said so at the time, only you didn’t hear me.”

“I… did hear it,” Yang Sheng said, a flush rising in his cheeks once more.

“But now isn’t the time to discuss such matters. Jiu’er is very busy—”

“No matter how busy I am, I won’t neglect the happiness of my own people.” Feng Jiu’er cut off Yang Sheng’s words.

“Yang Sheng, everyone can see that Rong’er likes you, but I don’t want you to marry her out of gratitude.”

“Rong’er.” Feng Jiu’er extended a hand to Shen Rong’er. “Stand up first.”

Shen Rong’er pressed her lips together, stood up, and came to Feng Jiu’er’s side.

“We don’t need to depend on men—do you understand what I mean?” Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes.

Shen Rong’er nodded, then shook her head: “Jiu’er, but I really do like Brother Yang.”

“I know.” Feng Jiu’er patted her shoulder and looked toward Yang Sheng. “That’s exactly why I can’t agree so easily.”

“Unless Yang Sheng likes you just as much, otherwise even if you marry him, you won’t find happiness.”

“Yang Sheng, Rong’er, as a woman, has had the courage to face her own feelings. You mustn’t run from this.”