"Miaomiao, you're not a child anymore. You should know better than to act so recklessly. Running away from home is one thing, but as an unmarried young woman, you bring back three men with you—no wonder your father fainted from anger!"
Bai Lian assumed the air of a concerned stepmother, her voice dripping with feigned distress as if she truly had Chu'he's best interests at heart. Standing in the center of the hall, her sharp gaze swept over the three unfamiliar men behind Miaomiao, her frown deepening as her voice rose in pitch.
"Just look at the kind of people you've brought home! If word gets out, what will become of your reputation? Where will our family's dignity go?"
When Bai Lian's scrutinizing eyes landed on the first man—a striking blue-robed youth with sword-like brows, starry eyes, and an air of noble grace—her heart skipped a beat. Clutching her handkerchief, she couldn't help but steal another glance.
Chu'he introduced, "This is Fang Songhe, the renowned swordsman."
"The famous 'Gentleman of the Blade,' Fang Songhe!" Bai Lian gasped, her eyes shimmering with admiration.
Fang Songhe offered a polite but awkward smile.
Bai Lian inwardly scoffed—Chu'he must have stumbled upon incredible luck to attract the dream of countless young maidens and bring such a distinguished guest home. At least this wasn’t an embarrassment.
Quickly schooling her expression, she cleared her throat and turned her attention to the sickly beauty seated nearby. Her heart lurched again.
Though frail and pale, the young man possessed delicate, almost feminine features that stirred an instinctive urge in women to protect and care for him.
Chu'he said, "This is Song Chunming."
Bai Lian had never met Song Chunming but recognized the name instantly. "Song Chunming? Isn’t he—"
Chu'he cracked a pine nut and smiled. "Song Gongzi met with an accident and was separated from his wife. Stepmother, it’s best not to say anything that might upset him further."
Bai Lian shot another glance at Song Chunming, who raised a hand in greeting before coughing violently. Fang Songhe hurriedly poured him tea.
Bai Lian refused to believe that a promising young man like Song Chunming could be reduced to such a state by mere misfortune. No, Chu'he must have resented him for breaking their engagement to marry another, driving the couple apart—perhaps even poisoning him or hiring assassins.
And now, she’d brought him home to torment him further!
After years of rivalry with Chu'he, Bai Lian knew all too well how cunning this little schemer could be.
Fang Songhe was beyond reproach—a paragon of virtue.
Song Chunming was already half-dead; she dared not provoke him.
Finally, Bai Lian’s gaze settled on the exotic, flamboyant youth who looked anything but respectable.
This foreigner, with his eerie white hair, crimson eyes, and deathly pale skin, resembled a demon straight out of folklore. If he appeared at night, people would surely summon priests to exorcise him!
At last, she had found the perfect target to chastise Chu'he for her recklessness.
Puffing herself up, Bai Lian declared, "Miaomiao, when will you ever grow up? Just look at the kind of person you’ve—"
The white-haired boy lounged lazily in his chair, idly playing with a small green snake coiled around his wrist. The serpent, clearly venomous, bared its fangs menacingly, its slit pupils gleaming with cold malice.
"Is Little Green still hungry?"
The snake flicked its tongue.
"No, no." The boy stroked its tail, his smile sweet and innocent. "These are Ah’he’s family and friends. We can’t eat them to fill your belly."
A chill ran down Bai Lian’s spine. Forcing a smile, she stammered, "Miaomiao, look at you, bringing so many distinguished guests home! You should’ve told me earlier—I would’ve greeted you at the door!"
Chu'he placed a handful of shelled pine nuts into Ninth’s palm, dusted off her hands, and grinned. "No need to trouble yourself, Stepmother. Besides, this was a sudden trip. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone, yet you somehow knew the moment we arrived and rushed over to lecture me."
Bai Lian’s smile tightened. "I was just... concerned about you."
Ninth tossed a pine nut to the snake, which swallowed it greedily and raised its head for more. Instead, he stuffed the rest into his own mouth, choking in his haste.
Chu'he handed him a cup of water. After drinking, he clung to her fingers, refusing to let go.
Bai Lian stared, wide-eyed.
Was this girl out of her mind? She’d passed up the dream of countless maidens for this bizarre, snake-handling foreigner?!
Old He hurried in. "Miss, the doctor has seen Master Chu. He says the master is so overcome with distress that he may never wake!"
Bai Lian gasped. "What?!"
She was still young—she had no intention of becoming a widow!
Chu'he stood. "Ninth knows medicine. I’ll take him to see Father."
She instructed the steward to settle the guests and led Ninth to Chu Sheng’s courtyard, where Doctor Wu stood sighing at the door as if the man were already on death’s doorstep.
Inside the gaudy, gold-laden room, every surface glittered with ostentatious wealth, a testament to the family’s nouveau riche tastes.
Ninth’s eyes darted around like a child in a wonderland. But then, as if remembering something, he stared at Chu'he’s back, his expression dimming as he nervously clutched his sleeves.
Chu Sheng lay motionless on the bed, his face serene.
Chu'he sat beside him and called softly, "Father? Father?"
No response.
Panicked, she cried, "Did I really anger him so much that he had a stroke? Will he be paralyzed?"
Doctor Wu sighed. "Miss, Master Chu is gravely ill. Waking at all would be a miracle, and even if he does, he must never be agitated again!"
Tears welled in Chu'he’s eyes. "Doctor Wu, you’re the best physician in the city. Is there truly no hope?"
Doctor Wu shook his head. "My skills are insufficient. I can do nothing."
"If even Doctor Wu is helpless, then conventional methods are useless. At this point, we might as well try Miaojiang’s remedies."
Chu'he seized Ninth’s hand. "Ninth, doesn’t Miaojiang have a way to counteract poison with poison? A spider’s bite, a scorpion’s sting, a snake’s—"
The figure on the bed twitched.
Ninth yanked his hand back, horrified. "Absolutely not!"
