Duan Yan walked unsteadily out of the room, exhaling through his nose. Though the bleeding had stopped, the smell of blood still lingered in his nasal passages.
He still couldn't figure out how he could have gotten a nosebleed at the sight of a boy—and, even more shamefully, every vein in his body was still throbbing with excitement.
It was only reasonable to suspect that he, too, had been drugged!
Outside was a small courtyard. Still mulling over these baffling bodily reactions, he followed the yard out, and the moment he stepped through the gate, he collided head-on with the man who had earlier escorted him into the room.
Gou San'er saw Duan Yan come out and froze for a moment.
Done already? Sure, the first time tasting flesh often ended quick, but... he craned his neck, as if listening for the night watchman's call, and calculated that barely a quarter of an hour had passed.
Gou San'er had drunk quite a bit, but he wasn't so drunk that he'd voice his confusion out loud. He only said, "Brother, what's the matter?"
Unaware that the man's beady black eyes were spinning with wild guesses, Duan Yan hurriedly asked, "Where's the antidote?"
"What antidote?" Gou San'er was baffled, then gave a suggestive grin. "Brother, aren't you the ready-made antidote yourself?"
Hearing this, Duan Yan's brows knitted together, and his tone grew heavier. "Cut the nonsense. Bring me the antidote now!"
Seeing Duan Yan getting irritated, Gou San'er immediately wiped the smirk off his face.
He wondered why the man needed an antidote. That fine stuff had been procured through connections at the brothel by a few of the brothers—it wasn't easy to come by. Then a thought struck him: maybe the drug was too strong, and his big brother couldn't manage to cure the effects himself?
But then again, in that short a span, how much could a person really get done?
Gou San'er couldn't help but discreetly size Duan Yan up from head to toe. What a shame—with a build like his big brother's, who'd have thought he was all thunder and no rain.
He couldn't help but feel sympathetic, but he was also stuck. "Brother Duan, this thing—it's always been taken for the purpose of getting down to business. Once it's in you, just see it through and you'll be fine. Who'd go out of their way to make an antidote for it? That'd be like taking down your pants to fart—sheer nonsense!"
Duan Yan heard that and genuinely wanted to kick the kid.
Gou San'er murmured, "If it's too much for you, just go a few more rounds—that'll fix you right up, naturally!"
"Ow!"
Before the words even faded, Gou San'er took a solid kick to the bend of his calf, sending him tumbling from the doorstep onto the ground.
That knocked whatever drunkenness was left right out of him, and he was instantly sober. He scrambled up from the ground. "Brother, don't be mad! I'll go find it right now!"
"Hurry! If you can't find it, then fetch a doctor!"
Watching the man scamper off like a monkey, Duan Yan let out a heavy breath of foul air.
What the hell was all this? As bizarre as the plot in a book. He glanced back toward the room, his brows furrowing tighter.
Inside, Song Fengsui was curled up in a tight ball, hugging his own arms, biting his lower lip so hard it was nearly bleeding, terrified of letting any shameful, unbearable sound escape his mouth.
He had heard that Duan Yan hadn't locked the door when he left, and thought of slipping out while he could—but in his current state, never mind running; even getting off the bed was impossible.
Just as his mind was sinking deeper into delirium, he heard the sound of the door opening again. In that instant, he felt both fear and a thread of hope.
He was afraid that a stranger might enter the house while he had no chance to defend himself, yet he also held a faint hope that Duan Yan would truly keep his word and bring the antidote.
Through his hazy consciousness, he heard Duan Yan’s apologetic voice: “There’s no antidote here—I’ve already sent for a physician. I brought some cold water; perhaps it can help suppress the effects.”
Song Fengsui heard this answer, as if the outcome had been expected all along.
Since they had abducted him, how could they possibly let him off so easily? Perhaps it was an unconscious physical reaction, or perhaps the agony was simply too great, surpassing the limits of Song Fengsui’s reason.
A burning, flushed face was soon plastered with tears.
Duan Yan heard a low sound and realized the person seemed to be crying. He froze, suddenly at a loss for what to do.
He knew Song Fengsui’s body was suffering and that his heart was likely filled with fear. Though earlier the boy had carried an air of someone ready to die fighting anyone who tried to harm him, in the end he was only a youth. He had endured so many setbacks along the road of exile, and now even the family who had been with him during that exile were no longer by his side. Alone, fallen into a den of wolves and tigers—how could he not be terrified?
But though Duan Yan knew of his hardships and felt deep sympathy for him, he had absolutely no idea how to comfort a young man in such a predicament.
“You… don’t cry. I’ll go find you something to eat, alright?”
In response, Duan Yan only heard a short, choked sob.
Seeing that Song Fengsui did not answer, Duan Yan spoke again: “Then how about I put you in the bath bucket first?”
Song Fengsui still did not respond.
Duan Yan took a deep breath and forced himself to say: “Well then, if it comes down to it… then I…”
“You beast! Don’t even think about it!”
With a clatter, Song Fengsui drew the dagger that Duan Yan had given him earlier.
Duan Yan’s eyes flickered upward. He raised both hands and obediently took a few steps back.
“Don’t wave that knife around carelessly—mind you don’t cut yourself.”
Realizing the other had misunderstood him, Duan Yan quickly added: “What I meant was, if it really comes down to it, I could knock you out. Maybe that would…”
He himself felt it was a terrible idea, which was why he had hesitated to say it.
Song Fengsui: “…”
Seeing that Duan Yan was not deliberately leering at him and had kept his distance from the bed since entering the room, Song Fengsui’s heart eased somewhat.
He set down the knife and slowly, bracing himself against the bed, got up. The moment his feet touched the ground, his legs gave way and he nearly collapsed to his knees. Duan Yan, at almost the same instant, reached out a hand from nearby—but this time Song Fengsui did not truly fall; he steadied himself against the edge of the bed, and Duan Yan tactfully did not touch him.
Song Fengsui carefully dragged his weakened body toward the bath bucket filled with cold water.
Duan Yan followed at a close but not too close distance, ready to lend a hand at any moment. When he saw the boy successfully lower himself into the bucket, it was as if he himself had gone through a major ordeal; he wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and let out a sigh of relief.
In truth, even entering the room was somewhat of an intrusion. If Duan Yan hadn’t come in, perhaps the boy would have had one less layer of wariness and wouldn’t have had to keep his nerves so tightly strung.
But unfortunately, aside from a few men drinking and playing finger-guessing games in the front courtyard, there were no women or female servants in this household. Duan Yan’s parents were still in the countryside and had not come to the town to live with him.
There was no one else reliable who could come, and if he didn't stay to watch over him, given the way Song Fengsui's character was written in the book, who knew what other man might show up.
"If you're sincere, and you have things like sophora root or gardenia at home, go fetch them."
Song Fengsui, fully clothed in the cold water, had regained a bit of clarity. The water had apparently just been drawn from the well—though it was summer, it carried a biting chill, which did help curb some of the heat and restlessness in his body.
But cold water alone wasn't enough; he still needed to take something internally.
His maternal grandfather's family was a renowned medical clan in the Jiangnan region. When he was young and had gone with his mother to visit relatives, he'd stayed at his grandfather's house for a long time and picked up some medical knowledge along the way. After returning to the capital, he'd never put that skill aside.
And it was precisely because of this that he'd managed to survive the long exile journey.
Duan Yan, hearing this, quickly searched his memory for the herbs, found them, and following Song Fengsui's instructions, pounded them into a paste and mixed them with water for him to drink.
Song Fengsui took the medicine and felt that wave of burning restlessness gradually recede.
He leaned back against the edge of the bath tub, and through the gap in the curtain, he could see that the man was still keeping watch outside, his expression seeming rather anxious.
After all these ups and downs, he could no longer clearly tell what this man was really after.
But he didn't have the strength or the presence of mind to ponder it further. His body had always been frail, and with these extremes of hot and cold, who knew what kind of illness might flare up. With the immediate danger still unresolved, how could he afford to worry about anything else?
And it was in that icy bath that Song Fengsui lost consciousness—even he himself didn't know when it happened...
Duan Yan noticed something was wrong and hastily pulled him out of the tub. Faced with the completely soaked young man and having no idea what to do, fortunately Gou San'er had finally returned with the antidote and a doctor in tow.
That kid was clever enough—he'd brought back a female physician, claiming she was a distant relative of his through his aunt. If not for that connection, he wouldn't have been able to persuade anyone to come.
Yan Town was a poor, remote place, closed-minded and backwards. There was no such thing as a female doctor practicing openly—all the physicians in the clinics were men. Women and young men who understood medicine were extremely rare to begin with, and even if one existed, you could only have her treat someone in private, under the pretense of a casual visit over a drink or a chat.
Duan Yan paid extra medical fees and asked the female physician to change Song Fengsui out of his wet clothes and then check on his condition.
After the man had left the room, the female physician looked at the unconscious Song Fengsui.
She couldn't help but curse inwardly—that vulgar blacksmith brute, doing such despicable things, tormenting a person this badly!
But when she examined Song Fengsui, she found that he hadn't actually been violated, which left her rather confused.
It was past midnight when Duan Yan sent Gou San'er to dismiss the drunken men in the front courtyard. He waited outside the room for the doctor.
Gou San'er ran out and was gone for a long time, then came back and bustled about for a while, soaked in sweat, all the effects of the alcohol long gone.
Wiping his sweat, he returned to the courtyard and saw from a distance that Duan Yan was waiting by the door with a worried expression. Thinking back on all the trouble tonight, he felt the man was acting strangely.
When had he ever seen this big brother of his care this much about anyone? Last time, when his old man broke a bone in the mountains and a doctor was summoned, even in that emergency, Duan Yan hadn't looked half this anxious.
Back then, while the doctor was attending to his father, he'd been sitting in the main room with his leg propped up, munching on fruit.
With such a sight, it seemed he had taken that young man into his heart and developed true feelings for him.
Gou San'er, being as sharp as he was, took note of this and knew in his heart how he should treat this Brother Song and matters concerning him from now on.
"Don't worry, boss. The medicine will disperse the heat in his body. I asked the madam in detail, and she said at most he'll feel a bit dizzy when he wakes up tomorrow."
Duan Yan looked at this lackey of his former self—how meticulous he was in his work, yet he was but a lad of seventeen or eighteen, with a slight frame and a build like a monkey's, completely unlike the other capable hands under his former self's command.
The reason he stayed by his former self's side was precisely because he was quick-witted and often offered his former self advice.
His former self was nothing but a brute who solved problems with his fists alone. Since this young man came to work under him, he had saved him a great deal of trouble—truly a talent. But because he had come to serve under his former self later than the others, despite his intelligence and sharpness, his former self still valued more the group of brothers led by Chen Hu who had been there from the beginning.
Even though that Chen Hu was not a honest man and often egged his master on to do things that strayed from the righteous path, stirring up no end of trouble, his former self was young and could not see through such harmful relations. Instead, he thought it was the code of the jianghu brotherhood and treated Chen Hu like his own flesh and blood.
Chen Hu and his crew naturally relied on their status as "old employees" to push Gou San'er around and give him grief. His former self knew all this but turned a blind eye.
Duan Yan recalled that although Gou San'er had never done anything truly criminal while following his former self, he had, under such a local bully, done his fair share of bullying and oppressing others.
He remembered that Gou San'er's family circumstances seemed fairly poor—that was why he endured the cold looks and mistreatment, swallowing his pride to stay with his former master, all for the sake of having a job.
Seeing that he wasn't too old yet, if he could mend his ways and put his cleverness to good use, he still had a long road ahead and a chance to turn his life around. But if he kept going like this, he'd walk down a path of no return sooner or later.
So Duan Yan said patiently, "Don't ever do such things again from now on!
A strong, healthy man—if he fancies someone, he should court them openly and honestly, not resort to such underhanded tricks.
Is this looking down on yourself, or slighting the other person?"
Gou San'er was taken aback, likely surprised to hear Duan Yan speak this way.
Truth be told, even he felt the deed was beneath them, and it hadn't been his idea in the first place. But he couldn't exactly persuade the other fellows not to go through with it either—he was still a newcomer under Duan Yan, already on the receiving end of some friction, and if he opened his mouth about such things, he'd only catch more flak for it.
Hearing Duan Yan's words now only confirmed his suspicion that his boss had truly set his heart on that Brother Song.
"Yes, yes—won't happen again. From now on, I'll listen to whatever you say, boss. I won't go off and pull any more of this foolish nonsense."
Gou San'er agreed at once, and pledged his unwavering loyalty to Duan Yan.
It wasn't merely empty flattery either—Duan Yan's words carried such uprightness and righteousness that they struck a chord deep in Gou San'er's heart.
Just as they were talking, the female physician came out from the room.
The two stopped their conversation, and Duan Yan stepped forward at once to ask about Song Fengsui's condition.
The physician furrowed her brow, glanced at Duan Yan, unsure of his relationship to the young man inside, then looked at Gou San'er, received a nod from him, and finally said:
"The young man's condition is not good. His constitution is weak and his blood is thin, and now with this... this incident on top of it, his body could not hold out, and so he has fallen into a coma."
"I've written out a prescription. Have it decocted and have him take it for now. His condition is not something that can be fully mended in a day or two."
Upon hearing this outcome, Duan Yan sighed inwardly.
In the book, it had been written that Song Fengsui was in poor health, but hearing the physician elaborate on it now, firsthand, was far more profound than reading about it. He felt even greater sympathy for the young man.
"We're grateful for your trouble, Doctor."
With that said, Duan Yan called for Gou San'er to escort the physician back safely. "It's late—past midnight. It's rare for anyone, let alone a female doctor, to be willing to make a house call. See that she is delivered safely to her door."
Gou San'er readily agreed.
The female physician, noting Duan Yan's thoughtfulness, formed a better impression of him, and could feel more at ease coming to this place for future consultations.
At this hour, few men dared to venture out, let alone women.
If not for the fact that Gou San'er was somewhat related to her family and had given her repeated assurances—and also because she was a woman in her forties, with her husband accompanying her to wait outside the main gate—who would willingly come to a place like this?
Duan Yan returned to the room to check on Song Fengsui. The lad's arm wound had been disinfected, coated with medicinal ointment, and then bandaged. He had been changed into fresh clothes, and his damp hair had been dried.
He lay deeply unconscious in sleep, yet his two finely drawn brows remained tightly knit.
Duan Yan's own brow furrowed as well. He did not step closer but instead quietly slipped back out of the room.
In his mind, he began to weigh what ought to be done next.
