"Just one month?"
Chu Ruoyan's eyes darkened. She had thought she could delay it for at least a year or two...
Young Master Lang's brows furrowed sharply. "Old Man, name any rare medicine in this world—just keep her alive!"
Old Divine Doctor Qin scoffed coldly. "Are you overestimating this old man, or underestimating that brat Wen? Do you know what kind of 'Resting Pill' he gave this girl? It’s the Five Poisons! And the most potent ingredient is the Western Frontier’s Red Scorpion. The Western Frontier—do you understand what that means?"
Young Master Lang's face turned deathly pale.
The Western Frontier—how could he not know?
A land of venomous plagues, rampant sorcery—if Doctor Wen had truly used Western Frontier methods, then forget Old Man Qin, even the gods themselves couldn’t save her!
"Then what if we seek a witch doctor—"
"Witch doctors? A bunch of charlatans, the lot of them! Unless it’s your grandmother—but alas, she perished in that great upheaval over a decade ago." Old Divine Doctor Qin paused before continuing, "Besides, we’re thousands of miles from the Western Frontier. Even if you could find a witch doctor who could save her, the round trip would take at least two months. Do you think she can last that long?"
The room fell into silence.
Young Master Lang gritted his teeth, snapping off a corner of the table with a sharp crack.
He knew every word Old Man Qin said was true, yet his heart refused to accept it.
Turning back, he saw the woman with lowered eyes, her long lashes casting delicate shadows beneath them.
"Ruoyan understands... Thank you, Old Divine Doctor."
Her calmness was so unnerving that an inexplicable fury surged in Young Master Lang’s chest. "'Understands'? What do you mean 'understands'? Come on, we’re going to find Third Yan!"
He reached out to grab her, but Chu Ruoyan evaded his grasp.
She lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes with quiet resolve. "What good would finding Yan Zheng do? The greatest physician in the land has declared my condition incurable. Do you think a man who knows nothing of medicine can bring the dead back to life?"
Young Master Lang stiffened. Deep down, he knew she was right, but the fire in his chest refused to be quelled.
"Fine. Fine! It seems this Young Master has overstepped. Then go ahead and wait for death!"
With that, he stormed out, his sleeves flaring behind him. Old Divine Doctor Qin shook his head and sighed. "That boy Lang has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. He doesn’t truly wish for your death..."
"I know." Chu Ruoyan smiled faintly. "I’ve been indebted to the Young Master’s kindness these past days. Ruoyan will prepare generous gifts in return."
"He doesn’t want gifts... Girl, this old man can see it clearly—Lang cares for you deeply. Just two days ago, when news of trouble in the capital reached him, he rode eight horses to death rushing back. And tonight, upon hearing of your plight, he charged straight to the Western Mountain camp without a moment’s rest to save you. Did you know he hasn’t slept for three days and nights?"
Chu Ruoyan froze. The old man rambled on, "Ah, that child has suffered greatly. His family was destroyed overnight, leaving him with no will to live. Yet he’s burdened with the responsibility of the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion—unable to die even if he wished to. That’s why he drowned himself in drink all these years. It wasn’t until he met you and that brat Yan that he regained some spark of life."
"But why am I telling you this? You’re already halfway into the grave—best hurry back and prepare your funeral arrangements."
As he turned to leave, Chu Ruoyan quickly called out, "Old Divine Doctor, could you keep this matter confidential?"
Old Divine Doctor Qin eyed her skeptically. "Keeping it secret is no issue, but your cold syndrome will strike harder with each attack. Are you certain you can hide it?"
Chu Ruoyan pressed her lips together, silent. The old man sighed. "Very well. Stubborn as a mule—just like that Lang boy!"
He tossed her a small vial of medicine, claiming it would ward off the cold.
After thanking him, Chu Ruoyan stepped out of Tianyi Tavern to find the sky already bright.
Pedestrians gradually filled the streets...
Wang Tong hurried over. "Young Mistress, are you alright? Last night—" He had witnessed her collapse into unconsciousness before being carried into the tavern by that red-robed, white-haired man!
Chu Ruoyan tightened her cloak around herself. "It’s nothing. I caught a chill while rescuing Chief Minister Yan. Old Divine Doctor Qin’s skills are miraculous—I’m fine now..."
Wang Tong exhaled in relief and promptly opened the carriage door for her.
Back at Bodhi Courtyard, she collapsed onto the bed and slept.
She didn’t wake until afternoon, stirred by noise outside.
"Yulu, what’s happening?"
Still groggy, Chu Ruoyan rose, draping an outer robe over her shoulders. The lingering chill made her pull a fox fur tighter around herself.
Yulu burst in, eyes bright with excitement. "Miss! You’re finally awake! Outside—you must see for yourself!"
Puzzled, Chu Ruoyan stepped out.
The main gates of the Duke's Mansion stood wide open.
One chest after another was being carried inside in an endless procession. Nearby, Lady Jiang the Younger gaped, her mouth wide enough to swallow an egg.
"Betrothal gold—two chests. Betrothal pastries—one load."
"Two pairs of livestock. Four jars of coconut wine."
"One load of four capital fruits. Two chests of tea and sweets."
"Five cases of incense, firecrackers, and gold bracelets. Several dowry boxes..."
The steward tallying the items could barely keep up. The gathered crowd buzzed with awe.
"Heavens, is this truly just a marriage proposal?"
"Nearly twenty chests already!"
"Even a princess wouldn’t receive such treatment..."
Chu Ruoyan overheard this as she emerged. Before she could process it, Lady Jiang the Younger rushed over, clutching her arm. "Eldest Miss! Quick, tell them to stop! The rear courtyard is overflowing!"
Bewildered, Chu Ruoyan asked, "Are these gifts for Second Sister? Has the Prince of Qin come around?"
"What does Ruoyin have to do with this? These are for you!"
"For me?"
Blinking in disbelief, she soon spotted Meng Yang’s honest face beaming at her. "Heh, Young Madam, my young master sent these! Didn’t you tell him to visit another day? He figured, 'Why wait?' and decided to propose today!"
Chu Ruoyan’s lips twitched between amusement and exasperation. "Was such a spectacle necessary?"
The people outside were comparing it to a royal dowry!
But Meng Yang straightened solemnly. "My young master said his first proposal was arranged by his mother, with only standard betrothal gifts. This time, he refuses to cut corners!"
Watching Lady Jiang the Younger flit about, directing servants to move a jade Buddha to another courtyard, Chu Ruoyan massaged her temples. "You should’ve given warning. Aunt is beside herself—she’ll fret over this for days."
Meng Yang scratched his head sheepishly. "My young master also said, 'Delays breed troubles.' To avoid your father’s objections, we must strike swiftly and decisively!"
Chu Ruoyan laughed softly.
Was this a marriage proposal or a military campaign?
"Where is your young master now?"
"He went first to Guardian Temple to inform the heir of the good news."
Chu Ruoyan’s smile faded.
In Great Xia, ancestral rites preceded weddings.
His actions spoke of sincerity—yet she had only a month left.
Heavy-hearted, she returned to Bodhi Courtyard, still unsure how to respond, only to find Yan Zheng seated by the stone table.
His travel-worn robes hinted at a hurried journey. Hearing her approach, he turned and smiled.
"Ah Yan, I’ve come to collect your debt of gratitude."
