“I only came to see a patient. Regarding everything connected to the manor, I will not breathe a single word to any outsider. But I likewise hope that the Manor Lord and Manager Long will not disclose a single word about my disguise as a man. Feng Jiu extends her thanks in advance.”

One had to acknowledge that Feng Jiu’s read on human nature was, at this moment, exceptionally precise.

She held the other party’s secret; the other party held hers. That alone made things fair.

At the very least, the intent to kill her that Langyue had harbored — knowing now that she too carried a secret — had cooled by several degrees.

“And even if it were treated, what of it? This face should never have existed at all.”

After some time — it was unclear exactly how long — Langyue turned and walked away.

Feng Jiu watched his retreating figure, and felt, inexplicably, a deep and wordless loneliness and loss — as though she had let him down, as though her failure to be the one he longed for — his elder sister — were somehow her fault.

Just moments ago, Langyue Xiansheng had called out that one word clearly, and Feng Jiu had heard it perfectly. It was indeed “Elder Sister.”

And yet he appeared to be no older than twenty-eight or twenty-nine. His elder sister would thus be at least thirty. Even though she herself had changed her face, there was no conceivable way she looked like a woman past thirty.

Most likely, Langyue Xiansheng’s elder sister had passed away when she was only in her early teens — so even now, looking at her, he still felt the resemblance.

“Feng Jiu…” Long Yan hesitated before correcting himself: “Miss Feng Jiu, then — shall I see you out of the manor?”

Long Yan had given himself quite a scare just now. He had genuinely thought Feng Jiu was going to die beneath the Manor Lord’s palm — and yet, that sweep of dark hair and that silhouette had, against all odds, saved her life.

It was fortunate things had turned out this way. Otherwise, he would have personally invited someone to the manor only to bring about their death. That — he would never have been able to live at peace with for the rest of his days.

“You may continue to call me ‘Sir.’ My being a woman, like the manor’s secrets, is something that, if spoken aloud, could bring death upon its bearer.”

Feng Jiu gathered her long hair back up again. With a flick of her slender fingers, she snapped a small branch from a nearby tree and pushed it casually through her topknot. And just like that, a graceful, elegant young man in white robes appeared once more before Long Yan’s eyes.

Long Yan’s gaze still could not help but drift toward her chest. Looking at her now made him feel a degree of discomfort and embarrassment — and more than a little confusion.

This Miss Feng Jiu’s chest was… far too flat. No matter how he looked at her, she did not look like a young woman at all.

“What is it? Would you like me to undress so you can get a proper look?” Feng Jiu raised an eyebrow.

“No no no! I am truly deserving of death! Deserving of death! I am deeply sorry, Sir Feng Jiu!”

Long Yan’s face flooded crimson. He immediately lowered his head and did not dare cast another stray glance.

Feng Jiu offered no explanation. Although Long Yan had gone to considerable lengths today to save her life, the two of them were still only new acquaintances, with no real bond of familiarity to speak of.

Words that did not need to be said were better left unsaid.

Leaving the manor, she settled into the carriage. Yet Feng Jiu still could not help but lift the carriage curtain and look back at that grand and imposing edifice slowly receding into the distance behind her.

She could not quite say why, but the experience at the manor had stirred in her not fear or aversion toward this place that had almost taken her life — but, strangely, a reluctance to leave.

The Old Manor Lord, mad with longing for his daughter; Langyue Xiansheng, who had called her “Elder Sister” as though in a daze; and there in the Camellia Courtyard — the wooden figures and portraits that bore such an uncanny resemblance to her…

At last, she let the curtain fall and exhaled softly.

Perhaps it was simply fate.

Long Yan personally escorted her back to the entrance of Tianji Hall. When Feng Jiu descended from the carriage, Long Yan still wore an expression full of guilt.

“Sir, regarding what transpired today — I am truly sorry. When I return, I will continue to persuade our Manor Lord. If he agrees, I hope the Sir will not hold a grudge, and will come again to consult.”

“Why are you so certain I am worth it?” Feng Jiu looked at him calmly, genuinely puzzled on this point.

She had, admittedly, previously cured an elderly man who had suffered from a leg ailment for many years — a deed that had briefly made her name resound through the imperial city. But had it not occurred to Long Yan that perhaps it had all been staged?

And even if it had not been staged, even if she truly possessed some measure of skill — there were no shortage of renowned and talented physicians throughout the realm. Why was he so fixated on her specifically?

“I… cannot quite explain it. Perhaps because you feel like my last remaining hope…”

Over the years, Long Yan had engaged the services of an enormous number of physicians — so many he had long lost count.

“And moreover — the Sir took one look at the Manor Lord and identified the root of his condition. Naturally, I believe.”

“What if I was merely speaking recklessly?” She had declared that Langyue Manor Lord was poisoned — and he simply believed her?

“The Sir is not that sort of person.” Long Yan gave a faint smile and clasped his hands in a bow toward her: “Sir, then — I will take my leave here. As soon as I am able to persuade the Manor Lord, I will certainly come again to request the Sir’s assistance.”

Of course, before he had succeeded in persuading the Manor Lord, Long Yan truly did not dare act on his own initiative again.

If the Manor Lord grew angry again and sought to kill Feng Jiu — with the Manor Lord’s level of martial ability, he genuinely would not be able to stop him.

Feng Jiu gave a serene smile in return and no longer pressed the matter, giving a slight nod: “Very well.”

As for the manor, and that Langyue Xiansheng, and the Old Manor Lord — she too, inexplicably, found herself carrying a thread of curiosity.

If the opportunity arose, she did genuinely hope to take Langyue Xiansheng’s pulse properly.

Long Yan’s party departed. Feng Jiu stepped into Tianji Hall and had barely walked through the door before she saw a familiar figure busy at work in the main hall.

“This batch goes to the rear courtyard, this batch goes directly to the storehouse, and this batch — bring it to the yard to be washed and spread out, and be quick about it. Don’t let them sit long enough to go moldy.”

“A’Shou, bring out the ledger from last month’s storehouse — I need to reconcile the inventory of medicinal herbs.”

“A’Ji, send this month’s account book to the study as well, along with the attendance records, and also…”

“You only just returned, and already you’re reconciling this and checking that — are you not tired?” The corners of Feng Jiu’s eyes curved upward in amusement as she walked over.

Nanmen Xu started slightly, turned, and looked at the face that had grown familiar over these past few months. The focused attentiveness in his eyes from the moment before softened in an instant, gentle as a passing breeze.

“You’re back? They said you went to the Number One Manor Under Heaven — did anyone there give you trouble?”

“Why would anyone give me trouble? I only went to treat a patient.” Feng Jiu naturally could not speak of the dangerous encounter she had experienced inside the Number One Manor Under Heaven. Were she to do so, Nanmen Xu would absolutely never permit her to go there again.

“Never mind all this back and forth — hand these matters off to A’Shou and A’Ji, and let us go inside for a cup of tea.”

Feng Jiu waved a hand. A’Shou and A’Ji immediately received the order and directed everyone in moving the medicinal herbs inside.

Nanmen Xu still seemed somewhat uneasy. Feng Jiu gave his shoulder a light punch with her fist and feigned a stern expression: “I have been away so long, and yet you will not even sit with me over a cup of tea?”

“How could I refuse?” Nanmen Xu at last set down everything in his hands and went inside with her to the inner hall.

A servant brought the tea. Feng Jiu said: “Your family’s patriarch has fallen ill. For the past few days, people have been coming to ask me to make a house call. I declined — but would you like to go back and see him?”