On one side, Su Mu was crying emotionally while hugging Zhu Qingyu; on the other, Xiong Kun had received orders and was following Nanny Tian to gather the others to meet up.
Escorting Su Mu and her group to the Northern Frontier were four Imperial Guardsmen, who were watching the luggage together with Uncle Qi and the others.
Once everyone was assembled, Zhu Qingyu asked and learned that from Yangzhou to Raocheng, the Imperial Guardsmen along the route had already been rotated three times. They were local officers from various regions, sent by Shen Xu with orders to relay the escort mission, almost traveling twenty-four hours a day.
Although it was unclear how Shen Xu and Zhang Shen had coordinated everything, it was thanks to the Imperial Guardsmen’s escort, with their specialized routes and resources; otherwise, if Su Mu and her group had traveled on their own using ordinary routes, they might not have reached the Northern Frontier by the following spring.
And after Su Mu and the others arrived, they were indeed a great help to Zhu Qingyu. At the very least, the next day, when purchasing military medical supplies in Raocheng, the inspection speed increased significantly. They left at the same Chen hour, and before noon, the task was completed.
Originally, they had to wait a day in Raocheng to procure military medicines. Now that Vice Minister Zhu’s tasks were finished, the Eldest Grand Princess, eager to return home, gave the order: no more waiting, depart immediately for the Northern Frontier.
The returning team to the Northern Frontier expanded once again. The people from the Zhu Family Medical Clinic were integrated into the Eldest Grand Princess’s convoy. Along the way, Su Mu and Lin Lan, one clutching an account book and the other holding medical records, huddled together in Zhu Qingyu’s carriage, going over the past six months—the clinic’s business situation and some difficult cases they were unsure about.
Zhu Qingyu opened the carriage window, flipped through the account book, and under the eager gazes of the two young women, sighed with emotion:
“Doctor Su, Doctor Lin, the two of you have become quite skilled now!”
Adversity fosters growth. In the six months Zhu Qingyu had been away, Su Mu and Lin Lan had gone from being delighted at treating ten patients independently in a month—so happy they walked as if dancing—to now being self-sufficient, even earning enough to cover the monthly wages for everyone at the Zhu Family Medical Clinic.
Praise made Su Mu suddenly beam with joy:
“That’s right, that’s right! Doctor Zhu, so many people come to us for consultations now!”
Lin Lan was more reserved:
“We’re not that skilled. You’re the truly amazing one, Lord Zhu!”
While they were talking, Vice Minister Gu Zhao, wearing his crimson official robe, rode by on his horse at a leisurely pace, the hoofbeats echoing in a steady rhythm—ta-da, ta-da, ta-da.
As he passed, tall as he was on his large horse, he cast a shadow so big that even the light inside the carriage dimmed.
Zhu Qingyu stared silently at the shadow on the account book. Only after he had completely passed did she speak:
“When we return to Yangzhou this time, you two can raise your consultation fees. Let me take a look at the cases you were uncertain about in the past six months.”
The three of them were burying themselves in medical records, and not long after Zhu Qingyu started explaining treatment methods to Su Mu and Lin Lan, the hoofbeats—ta-da, ta-da, ta-da—sounded again.
Zhu Qingyu stopped speaking, while Vice Minister Gu continued riding his horse at that same infuriatingly slow pace, heading back the way he came.
Su Mu leaned over to the carriage window, watching Gu Zhao’s retreating figure, curiosity getting the better of her:
“Hey, didn’t Vice Minister Gu just pass by? Why is he going again? He’s been back and forth at least three times this afternoon. What’s he so busy with?”
Since meeting Su Mu and the others yesterday, Zhu Qingyu and Gu Zhao had barely spoken. At most, when they went together to the Raocheng government office to purchase military supplies earlier today, they exchanged polite, public formalities—calling each other “Lord Zhu” and “Vice Minister Gu”—with no further conversation.
Or, more accurately, Zhu Qingyu had unilaterally refused to talk to Gu Zhao.
With Gu Zhao making three trips back and forth like that, Zhu Qingyu suspected he was waiting for her to speak to him.
But what was there to say?
He had set a trap for her, coaxed her into revealing her feelings, taken away her greatest leverage, and made her step by step fall deeper. Now, Zhu Qingyu’s heart was in utter turmoil. The closer she got to him, the more she couldn’t see a future for the two of them. She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore, so she simply chose silence.
For the rest of the journey to the Northern Frontier, Zhu Qingyu spent most of her time with Su Mu and Lin Lan—either checking accounts, discussing cases, refining the contents of two medical books, or writing up work plans for after arriving in the Northern Frontier. She deliberately kept herself busy, so busy she could ignore Gu Zhao. The two of them went for a long stretch without exchanging a word.
Zhu Qingyu thought to herself, Actually, this is fine. Love, after all, is just a very small part of life—perhaps even a luxury, not a necessity.
Gu Zhao, to her, was not a necessity.
When well-fed and warm, people think of romance. Previously, on the road, with nothing to do and too much free time, her mind had wandered. Once she arrived in the Northern Frontier and got busy, she wouldn’t have time for such idle thoughts.
By midday on New Year’s Eve, they were only a few dozen miles from their destination—the Dingsheng Pass in the Northern Frontier.
Zhu Qingyu finished her lunch and was tidying up the documents she’d written during the journey. Su Mu and Lin Lan had also gone off to pack.
Outside the carriage window, Xie Ze and Aunt Zhuyue were engaged in their daily routine of chasing and hitting each other.
Suddenly, someone lifted the carriage curtain and stepped inside.
Gu Zhao’s voice rang out:
“You’ve been avoiding me all this time. Are you angry? I’ll say I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?”
Zhu Qingyu looked up at him and saw the cautious expression on his face. She replied, “I’m not angry.”
A flicker of joy appeared on Gu Zhao’s face: “Then can you talk to me? Just a little, a little is fine. A little is good too.”
Zhu Qingyu smiled: “Shouming, it’s not a little. It’s a lot.”
Her sudden frankness made Gu Zhao hold his breath, afraid to speak, sensing she was about to follow with a “but.”
Sure enough, Zhu Qingyu said: “But Shouming, I’ve thought about it a long time. I do have feelings for you. Over this period, I’ve seriously considered whether to overcome the difficulties and be with you. But the future of being with you—no matter how I look at it—requires me to pay a very high price, one I can’t afford. You see, I’m just this realistic and coldhearted person. I don’t absolutely have to have you. So, let’s just… forget it.”
