Wei Huan picked up a round silk fan and covered her mouth with a light laugh. "Is it that obvious? Well, I’ve always been particular about beds. I’ll adjust in a day or two."
Noticing the faint crease between Jiang Li’s brows, she tapped her forehead playfully with the fan’s edge. "Don’t worry. If it comes to it, I’ll just have Physician Fang prescribe some calming tonic."
"I’ll speak to Physician Fang later," Jiang Li said quickly, adding before Wei Huan could refuse, "I was planning to visit Father Su anyway."
Wei Huan studied her for a moment, then smiled and nodded. "Very well."
Winter in the capital was harsh, with biting winds and relentless snow. Wei Huan had always been sensitive to the cold, so the heated floors in her room were kept blazingly warm—comforting, yet stifling.
Jiang Li couldn’t shake the feeling that Wei Huan seemed unusually distracted today, likely from exhaustion. Unwilling to burden her further, she didn’t linger long in the east chamber before rising to leave, urging Wei Huan to rest.
Stepping outside, she gazed at the overcast sky with a quiet sigh.
*If only Physician Fang could help strengthen her sister’s health.*
---
Meanwhile, as Jiang Li thought of Fang Sitong, the physician himself was discussing her with Su Shiqing.
"From what you’ve said, Young Master and Miss Jiang grew up together, didn’t they?" Fang Sitong reclined in an armchair, fingers resting on Su Shiqing’s pulse as he chuckled. "If you ask this old man, childhood sweethearts make the best matches!"
Su Shiqing nodded in agreement. "Exactly so. A Jue was always quiet as a child, while A Li was lively and cheerful. Since marrying her, he’s been smiling more."
Fang Sitong narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
He had been close friends with General Huo and had met the young Huo Jue several times in his youth—even setting the boy’s broken arm at age six.
Back then, the child had been bright and cheerful. The Wei family had raised him well: humble, courteous, and disciplined. Even when thrown into the rigorous training of the Huo army, he never complained, rising before dawn to practice martial arts regardless of scorching summers or freezing winters.
Once, while visiting Lady Wei, Fang Sitong had spotted a small figure under the blazing sun, steadfastly holding a horse stance while reciting texts aloud, his legs trembling but his voice unwavering.
Spotting Fang Sitong, the boy had grinned and called out, *"Good day, Uncle Physician!"*
At the time, Fang Sitong had marveled at the Wei family’s fortune—first with the brilliant scholar Wei Che, beloved by Qingzhou’s literati, then with Wei Huan, whose destiny had been foretold by the revered monk Yuanxuan, leading to her betrothal to the Crown Prince.
Even this knee-high child, reciting the *Analects* flawlessly, promised to be extraordinary.
Any one of them could have upheld the Wei family’s legacy for decades.
Yet in just a few years, the entire Wei clan had been uprooted, their ancestral temple burned to ashes.
Fang Sitong sighed inwardly.
*At least Heaven left two survivors.*
But then he shook his head.
One was wasting away from sorrow, the other shrouded in inner demons—outwardly gentle, but with eyes dark as abysses.
Now that he was in the capital, he would do his part to watch over them for his old friend’s sake.
Wei Huan was manageable—he had overseen her health until she was sixteen. Though six years had lapsed, unless she was on death’s doorstep, he could nurse her back.
As for Huo Jue…
Fang Sitong’s gaze drifted to the vibrant figure at the door.
The girl’s cheeks were flushed from hurrying, her large, clear eyes like fresh spring plums, brightening the gloomy day.
Stroking his beard, Fang Sitong mused that perhaps, as Su Shiqing said, this girl was Huo Jue’s remedy.
*Then I’d best keep her in good health.*
---
The west chamber housed Fang Sitong and Su Shiqing. Jiang Li had come to see the latter, only to find the physician already there.
After greeting both elders, she learned Fang Sitong was treating Su Shiqing’s lingering poison.
Su Shiqing had been bedridden for months after a fall in Tong’an Mountain last year. Only recently, after Huo Jue adjusted his prescription, had he shown improvement.
But Huo Jue had warned—the treatment alleviated symptoms, not the root poison in his blood and organs.
Seeing Jiang Li’s worry, Fang Sitong reassured her, "Don’t fret, madam. This old man can cure your Father Su."
"Please, call me A Li," Jiang Li said earnestly. "You’re like family to my husband and sister, so you are to me as well. My husband says your skills are peerless. I trust you’ll heal him."
Her words were sincere, her dark eyes clear as spring water—transparent and guileless.
Having treated everyone from nobles to beggars across the realm, Fang Sitong recognized genuine kindness at a glance.
*Such an honest heart suits Huo Jue well.*
With a hearty laugh, he said, "Your husband speaks true! This old man’s skills *are* unmatched. Let me check your pulse too—I’ll prescribe something to fortify your health."
Jiang Li declined hastily. She had come for Wei Huan’s tonic—how could she put herself first? Besides, she was perfectly healthy.
But Fang Sitong insisted, and she reluctantly let him examine her.
"Nothing serious—just some residual chill. Half a month of medicine will fix it. It’s no major ailment, but left untreated, it could complicate childbearing later. So take this seriously."
Jiang Li flushed at the mention of children but nodded solemnly, vowing to take every drop.
Once Fang Sitong wrote the prescription, he shooed her off. "This old man needs to discuss treatments with Su. Go keep your husband company—he’s been studying too hard. Even with exams approaching, rest is vital."
Besides, with Huo Jue’s photographic memory, the imperial exams were child’s play.
Clutching the prescription, Jiang Li blushed.
*This physician truly disregards propriety—who urges a wife to interrupt her husband’s studies?*
Yet his point stood. Overexertion would harm Huo Jue more than help.
---
Leaving the west courtyard, Jiang Li handed the prescription to Tao Zhu to have the calming tonic prepared for Wei Huan. Then she headed to the main kitchen to prepare chicken soup for Huo Jue.
The kitchen staff had everything ready: two freshly slaughtered chickens, diced yams, goji berries, and rice wine.
After stuffing ginger into the chicken, Jiang Li supervised the simmering—first a golden broth, then yams and berries, finally a splash of wine.
By the time the rich, creamy soup was ready, lunch hour had arrived.
She divided it into three portions, sending two to the east and west courtyards before taking the last to Huo Jue’s study.
The study, tucked at the end of a corridor, was quiet and secluded.
He Zhou stood guard outside and hurried forward at her approach. "Madam." He reached for the soup, but she sidestepped him with a smile.
"Ask if my lord is ready for lunch."
"The master said you may enter anytime."
Jiang Li paused.
*Did he predict I’d come?*
Inside, the faint scent of ink and sandalwood hung in the air—Huo Jue’s preferred writing materials, not perfumes.
Though she’d been cross with him that morning, her anger had long since melted. Now, she simply smiled. "Hungry?"
Huo Jue set aside *Annotations on the Spring and Autumn Annals* and rose. "Are you still upset? If so, I’ll skip lunch as penance."
"Who wants you to starve?" She glared—adorably, without any real heat. "I made this soup. Drink it all."
His lips curved slightly. "Mm."
They ate at a small tea table, chairs pulled close. The soup, simmered to perfection, was rich and fragrant with a hint of wine.
Jiang Li, with her small appetite, soon set down her chopsticks, leaving Huo Jue to finish the pot.
Pleased, she beamed. "If you like it, I’ll bring more tomorrow."
Though indifferent to food, Huo Jue cherished her presence. "Mn."
After the meal, remembering Fang Sitong’s advice, she stayed to chat. Soon, He Zhou knocked.
"Madam, Tao Zhu says your medicine is ready. Shall she bring it?"
Medicine was best taken hot. Jiang Li had it brought in and downed it in one go.
Before she could reach for sweets, Huo Jue frowned. "Are you unwell?"
"It’s Physician Fang’s prescription—to warm the womb and dispel chill. A fortnight’s dose to… to prepare for bearing children."
The moment the words left her mouth, Huo Jue’s gaze darkened with implication.
Flushing, she stammered, "D-don’t get the wrong idea! It’s not what you’re thinking!".
