Yuanfeng twenty-seven, early summer.

Shen Duruo entered the Crown Prince’s estate under the identity of a female physician.

“That day, she wore a female physician’s official robe. That robe was somewhat large. After walking a few steps, she covered her mouth and yawned, clearly having not slept well last night.”

The luminous pearl’s light wasn’t very strong, yet it illuminated Dong Chengfeng’s face very clearly. His sunken eyes held nothing but soft light.

Yan Sanhe asked: “Where were you hiding when you saw her?”

“I wasn’t hiding.”

Dong Chengfeng laughed: “After finding out she was coming, I took cold water baths for five straight days, made myself sick, then shamelessly talked with Lady Liang—that’s how I got to see her.”

Yan Sanhe knew he hadn’t told the whole story.

How did he inquire?

What did he say to Lady Liang?

Where did he wait to see her?

All were “calculated scheming.”

“Female physicians have ranks. That day the Crown Prince wasn’t in the estate. Lady Liang received her in the main hall.”

Dong Chengfeng: “After one cup of tea, Lady Liang dismissed everyone and spoke some words with her alone. After about half an hour, a maid came to request he enter.”

He straightened his clothing, then took a deep breath and walked into the main hall.

First he bowed to Lady Liang.

Lady Liang introduced the two.

After introductions, he walked before Shen Duruo, put on a smile he’d practiced eight hundred times before the bronze mirror, then coughed several times and said: “I trouble Physician Shen.”

“You’re welcome.”

Shen Duruo pointed to the chair beside her, indicating he should sit: “Let me first take your pulse.”

He sat, rolled up his sleeve, exposing a robust forearm.

Her three fingers descended, fingertips slightly cool. Dong Chengfeng’s violently pounding heart suddenly stopped.

These were clean, slender hands, nails trimmed very short and neat.

Dong Chengfeng had spent years mingling in romantic venues, had seen countless beautiful hands, yet none compared to the pair before his eyes, making his heart race.

Having seen the hands, he looked at the face.

Up close, he discovered this person had several small freckles on her cheeks. Her skin wasn’t as fair and translucent as other women’s—it was a healthy complexion from being in the sun too much.

Women of the world mostly valued fairness. Those with slightly darker complexions wished they could smear three pounds of pearl powder on their faces to cover it up.

She neither concealed nor covered, openly displaying the freckles before others’ eyes. Rare.

Shen Duruo withdrew her hand and looked up at him: “Wind-cold. Nothing serious. Three doses of medicine and you’ll be fine.”

Her speaking manner was very calm, pace neither fast nor slow, inexplicably making people trust her.

His heart began racing chaotically again.

“Then I’ll trouble Miss Shen to write the prescription.”

She rose and walked to the square table. After lifting her robe and sitting, she picked up the brush to write the prescription, almost in one breath.

After finishing, just as she was about to hand the prescription to a palace servant, he stepped forward: “May I see the prescription?”

Shen Duruo’s hand shifted, passing it toward him while lightly glancing at him.

His heart stilled. He pretended to lower his head to read the prescription, hastily avoiding her gaze.

Meeting his eyes was handwriting that danced like dragons and phoenixes.

Mm.

Slightly better than dog scratches.

He looked up, staring at her incredulously.

She said with complete composure: “As long as the person filling the prescription understands.”

He smiled silently.

His judgment of people wouldn’t be wrong. This was someone who appeared rigid and boring on the outside, but inside…

A whole different world!

Just as he was about to speak, someone outside shouted loudly: “The Crown Prince returns to the estate.”

Lady Liang raised her hand to touch her hair ornament and hurriedly went out to greet him.

At the same time, however, Shen Duruo retreated half a step and turned to tell him: “Actually, you don’t need medicine. If you can endure it, you’ll also recover after three days.”

His eyes suddenly brightened. He curved his lips and looked at her.

How many women in the world, upon hearing the two words “Crown Prince,” would desperately push and squeeze forward? Yet she retreated one step…

She was the same type as him!

Before her face, he slapped the prescription and stuffed it in his sleeve, then said: “I’ll listen to you. I’ll endure it.”

She nodded slightly, clasped her hands behind her back without speaking further, her body carrying a faint herbal scent.

He lowered his gaze, using peripheral vision to watch her, seeing the circle of fine down on her ear, so soft.

At this moment, Zhao the Fox entered accompanied by Lady Liang and sat in the main seat.

He and Shen Duruo stepped forward to bow.

Zhao the Fox’s gaze turned to him: “Why is Chengfeng also here?”

He: “Caught some wind-cold. Came to see Physician Shen.”

Only then did Zhao the Fox shift his gaze to Shen Duruo: “How is it?”

Shen Duruo: “Nothing serious.”

Zhao the Fox picked up the tea bowl Lady Liang personally offered, stirred the tea lid, then looked up and said to Lady Liang: “This evening set up two tables to welcome Physician Shen.”

Lady Liang smiled: “Even without Your Highness’s instruction, this consort has already prepared.”

Zhao the Fox nodded with satisfaction: “Chengfeng should come too. The Crown Princess constantly mentions your qin skills before this prince.”

Lady Liang continued: “The lingering sound surrounds the beams!”

“Yan Sanhe.”

Dong Chengfeng cut off the memory, drawing out his words: “Do you know what I wanted to do after hearing the Crown Prince finish that sentence?”

Yan Sanhe: “Do what?”

Dong Chengfeng: “Wanted to be reborn.”

That day after seeing Shen Duruo at the second gate, he used every method to thoroughly inquire.

She came from an imperial physician family.

She was exceptionally intelligent and studiously diligent.

She had traveled outside for four years with outstanding medical skills.

Looking at himself…

A person of foreign ethnicity.

Someone who played qin.

Dissolute and unrestrained.

High and low, clouds and mud—a world of difference. So she could be the Crown Prince’s honored guest, while he could only play qin at banquets.

“I’d lived over twenty years and never despised my birth. But in that instant, I suddenly began despising it.”

Not only despising his birth, but also his past dissoluteness, even despising his own appearance.

Too tall, temperament insufficiently refined. Standing together with her, one wild, one reserved—completely mismatched.

“Yan Sanhe, can you believe it?”

Dong Chengfeng: “Before meeting her, I was someone who didn’t even put Zhao the Fox in my eyes. What was so great about the Crown Prince? He also ate three meals a day, lived through four seasons, and would be buried in the ground after death.”

Yan Sanhe didn’t speak, only watched him.

Was this still the Dong Chengfeng who had ridden through men and women, with not a leaf clinging?

How did he sound like a wronged little wife, everywhere revealing grievance and inferiority?

“First sight, and you liked her that much?” she asked.

“Liked her just that much.”

Dong Chengfeng nodded heavily: “A feeling of déjà vu, as if I came to the Crown Prince’s estate just to meet her.”

That day’s welcoming banquet, Lady Liang arranged it very lively.

He deliberately dressed himself up and selected a piece called “Wild Geese Descending on Flat Sand.”

This piece rose and fell three times, graceful and flowing. Those with ambition could hear the lofty aspirations of great birds; those without could hear the heart of a reclusive scholar; those with feelings could also taste the deep emotion within.

He played extremely devotedly.

Just like a woman desperate to marry, using every ounce of ability to show off and flaunt.

When the piece ended, he looked up to see women at the banquet wiping tears with handkerchiefs. Shen Duruo had her hand propping her chin, eyes closed…

Asleep!

—