Chapter 3

Father looked from him to me.

His anger deflated like a punctured paper lantern.

After years of practicing medicine, one glance told him Xie Tingheng was frail but had merely hurried too much. There was no immediate cause for alarm.

Once his breathing settled, Xie Tingheng bowed properly.

“Your son-in-law, Xie Tingheng, pays his respects. Zhiwei has worked so hard this time, and I—”

“Stop.”

Father supported him.

“No long speeches yet. Catch your breath first. What prescription has she given you? Let me see your tongue.”

Xie Tingheng stared.

I couldn't help laughing.

Before father-in-law and son-in-law had finished their greetings, they were already conducting an examination outside the prefecture.

Father read my prescription and questioned several details carefully.

I answered each in turn.

At last, he nodded, willing to accept that his daughter hadn't foolishly sold her whole life.

On the way back, Father took the Sang carriage.

Xie Tingheng rode with me.

He leaned against a cushion with closed eyes, resting. His lips were paler than that morning.

I tucked the hand warmer into his arms and remained unsparing.

“You've walked too much. Rest properly when we get home. No pushing yourself tomorrow.”

“I'll obey the physician.”

“Record it honestly. Don't hide this part.”

“I'll obey my wife.”

I glared up at him.

He smiled with his eyes closed.

The carriage passed down the street. Outside, a seller called out apricot blossoms.

Xie Tingheng bought a branch and handed it to me.

It was in full bloom.

I accepted it and tucked it onto his medicine pouch.

8

After Father's release, the Sang clinic stayed closed for several more days.

He took his assistants to visit every affected family, refunded consultation fees, and used the clinic's savings to help the three bereaved households through their immediate difficulties.

He hadn't adulterated the medicine and didn't bear responsibility for the driver's crime.

But the patients had taken it at his free clinic.

He felt that one more careful check might have prevented it.

After the last visit, I spoke plainly.

“Remember the lesson, but set a limit. Improve inspection procedures and retain another sample. That's better than tormenting yourself with guilt every day.”

“The person who truly owes those lives has been convicted. Don't carry his burden.”

After a long silence, Father tapped my forehead.

“Married now, so you dare lecture your father.”

“Straight out of prison and into another dead end. You need lecturing.”

At last, he laughed.

The entire Xie family came when the Sang clinic reopened.

Xie Huaiyue's signboard read only “Aid the World, Preserve the Truth.” It bore no name of the marquis's household.

Jiang Yunrou and Mingzheng helped sort medicine packets.

Old Madam Xie presided in the hall, intimidating even idle onlookers into queuing properly for consultations.

Xie Tingheng sat in the back courtyard, organizing Father's newly ordered inspection ledgers.

Now he could walk around the courtyard for a long time.

He ate almost as much as an ordinary person. His wrist no longer felt like a thin layer of skin over bone.

When I examined him, his long-submerged, thready pulse finally had a more balanced quality.

“From tomorrow, one fewer dose.”

“Good news?”

“Yes. If there's no relapse over the next few days, you can add a gentle slope to your morning walk.”

He carefully noted it, then took a contract from his sleeve.

It was a three-year lease for a shop in the west of the city, two streets from Father's clinic.

The back courtyard was spacious. The front hall had excellent light.

“For me?” I asked.

“For you to rent,” he corrected.

“Market rent. Our household advances the renovation costs, to be deducted gradually from clinic profits. Your own people manage the accounts. We retain a small share to fund regular supplies for your free consultations.”

I examined the contract.

Every clause was clear.

If the clinic couldn't continue within three years, I could return the premises at any time, settling renovation costs according to their actual remaining value.

He knew I wanted a women's clinic.

He also knew I wouldn't accept an expensive shop as a gift.

So he made support into a fair partnership.

“Your share is too low. You're providing the premises and advancing renovations. It should be higher.”

He named a figure.

I still shook my head.

“Why does my wife's bargaining only raise the price?”

“Because I don't take advantage of allies.”

We argued until the tea went cold.

Finally, we agreed on a figure we could both accept and shared the free-medicine expenses too.

He signed. I pressed my mark beside his.

The red marks on the paper looked like two little flowers nestled together.

“What will the clinic be called?”

I had long since decided.

“Spring Tidings Clinic.”

“Winter ends, spring returns; a letter brings word of safety.”

He dried the contract and solemnly gave it to me.

“A good name.”

As I accepted it, something inside me seemed to open to a spring breeze.

Saving Father had begun our alliance.

Now the case was over, he was still thinking of my road ahead.

Yet he never bound me with gratitude or decided for me.

It was hard to think of a Xie Tingheng like that as merely an ally.

9

After the apricot blossoms fell, another cold spell swept the capital.

Xie Tingheng fell ill.

Rain came suddenly that afternoon. Returning from the front courtyard, he soaked half his shoulder.

By night, he had a fever and coughed too badly to lie still.

Lights blazed in Tingxue Courtyard. The whole family waited outside.

Jiang Yunrou's fingers were icy, but she remembered my instructions and didn't rush in with questions.

Xie Huaiyue summoned an imperial physician, but had him wait in the outer room.

After taking the pulse, I left the window open a crack and told Qinghe to boil the medicine.

Fever reddened the corners of Xie Tingheng's eyes. Every breath wheezed.

He caught my sleeve.

“Has the old illness worsened?”

“Wind and cold have triggered the old retained-fluid condition. It came quickly and looks frightening. But your pulse still has strength at its root. You aren't going back to where you were.”

I helped him sit.

“Don't suppress the cough. Bringing up phlegm is good. Breathe as I taught you.”

He nodded and followed.

The medicine went down, but the fever didn't ease. For a time, his breathing grew worse.

Imperial Physician Zhang came in, examined him again, and proposed an immediate strong dose of heat-clearing medicine.

I knew he had seen countless severe cases in the palace.

Still, I explained my judgment.

“His hands and feet are cold. His tongue coating is white and slippery. The phlegm is clear and thin. The heat is on the surface, with retained fluids inside. Strong bitter-cold medicine may lower the fever quickly but make those fluids harder to resolve.”

Zhang frowned.

“Who takes responsibility if the high fever damages his lungs?”

“I will.”

I handed him the prescription.

“Please examine the combination carefully. I'm not simply waiting. It hasn't taken full effect. If his breathing hasn't eased when this incense stick burns out, I'll add medicine as you suggest.”

He examined the dregs and personally asked Xie Tingheng about his breathing and the color of the phlegm.

Only then did he sit beside the bed to watch with me.

As the incense neared its end, a fine sweat appeared on Xie Tingheng's forehead.

The phlegm in his chest began to loosen.

I located points on his back and inserted needles, helping him cough up the thick phlegm lodged in his throat.

His breathing remained heavy, but at least he could finish a sentence.

Zhang immediately adjusted the next dose.

Qinghe tended the stove. Medicinal steam rose all night.

Zhang folded the prescription and returned it himself.

“Your assessment is precise, Miss Sang. I had always thought prolonged heat had depleted his yin. I hadn't realized this ten-year condition was rooted in cold and retained fluids.”

“You dare hold to your judgment while leaving room to change course. That's rare.”

I bowed.

“Without you checking beside me, I wouldn't have been so steady. I'll have to trouble you to stay tonight.”

Toward dawn, the fever finally eased a little.

Jiang Yunrou entered and touched her son's forehead. Tears fell at once.

She didn't blame me for letting him exercise or say she should have kept him shut in his room.

She only held my hand and repeatedly told me how hard I had worked.

Xie Huaiyue saw Zhang to the door.

Returning, he watched beside the bed for a long time, then abruptly turned away, his shoulders trembling.

This illness pulled the family back into ten years of fear.

But there was no panicked crying by the medicine stove.

Zhang and I checked his pulse again and again.

Jiang Yunrou prepared herbs according to the prescription.

Xie Huaiyue waited outside for news.

Knowing what to do made the long night less frightening.

When Xie Tingheng woke after sleeping enough, daylight shone through the window paper.

I was revising the prescription at the table.

“Zhiwei,” he called hoarsely.

“Awake? Drink some water.”

He obediently finished half a cup before asking, “Were you afraid last night?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

“Afraid my judgment was wrong. Afraid the medicine wouldn't catch up with the illness.”

“I thought you feared nothing.”

“If a physician fears nothing, the patient should be afraid. Fear is allowed. Unsteady hands and a stopped mind aren't.”

I took his pulse.

“You did well too. Even in such distress, you followed my breathing instructions.”

His gaze was softer than usual.

“I thought that if I truly couldn't breathe, I had to manage at least one more breath. You said I wouldn't die with you here.”

My heart tightened.

I pinched his cheek.

After ten years of illness, he finally had a little flesh there. It felt rather nice.

“Remember that, then. Less ill-omened talk.”

I let go.

“Change immediately if you're caught in rain. If I find you finishing a whole ledger in wet clothes, I'll move every ledger here to be smoked over the medicine stove.”

He stared at the pinch, then laughed quietly.

I laughed too.

The rain had stopped. Water still dripped from the eaves. The banana plants were washed bright green.

His fever hadn't entirely gone.

For the next few days, we took turns watching him, changing the prescription gradually with his pulse and the phlegm.

Only when he could sleep peacefully did I put away the needles beside the bed.

Empty bowls stood at the table's corner. Zhang's revised prescription lay beneath the inkstone.

I put my hand to Xie Tingheng's wrist again.

At last, the pulse was steady.

10

Once he could get out of bed, he placed a divorce agreement before me.

I stared without picking it up.

“What does this mean?”

“Your father's case is over. My health has improved. We've completed the things we allied to do.”

He sat straight, looking more nervous than during his worst illness.

“I've signed it. If you want to leave, add your name and submit it with the original marriage document for registration.”

“Take back your whole dowry. The clinic contract stays unchanged. Our household will pay an additional medical fee.”

“What about you if I go?”

“I'll keep taking the prescribed medicine, recording my days, and visiting the clinic for follow-ups. You're my physician. That doesn't change.”

“And as husband and wife?”

His fingers tightened slightly, but his voice stayed clear.

“Sang Zhiwei, I love you. That's why I won't bind you with an auspicious marriage document.”

“You could only use our household to reopen the case. I only thought of reassuring my family. The marriage was too hasty. Neither of us had time to choose.”

At last, I picked up the paper.

Fine Chengxintang paper, written in his own hand.

Money, lodging, clinic—he had arranged everything.

Only my staying or leaving was not decided for me.

I read it and folded it along the original creases.

“Xie Tingheng, do you think you've been very thorough?”

He asked cautiously, “What's wrong?”

“You love me, so you've prepared everything for after I leave. But you haven't asked whether I want to love you.”

He went still.

I put the agreement in my sleeve.

“I'll keep this for now. You're right. Our first marriage wasn't a choice. Once the clinic opens and you stop your last daily dose, our old debt is settled.”

“Then come and ask to marry me.”

“Ask?”

“What? You can write a divorce agreement but not a marriage proposal?”

Light slowly filled his eyes.

“I can. I can learn.”

“Don't celebrate yet.”

I touched the corners of his mouth to stop them rising.

“I haven't agreed. I want to see how a Xie Tingheng who doesn't rely on an auspicious wedding asks for my hand.”

He considered seriously.

“Could I have a hint?”

“Think for yourself.”

Before dinner, the entire household knew the heir intended to court his own wife anew.

Mingzheng ran over with her jewelry box, declaring East Sea pearls would certainly please a girl.

Jiang Yunrou chose matchmakers.

Even Xie Huaiyue emerged from his study to advise his son to find proper work first instead of merely giving things.

Old Madam Xie sent all three away.

“Does Zhiwei lack jewels? She needs someone to dry herbs, organize accounts, and test new medicinal dishes. Tingheng, become useful first.”

Grandmother struck the heart of it.

After that, he exercised in the morning and spent the remaining time helping prepare the clinic.

He redrew its front hall.

The screens weren't fully enclosed, so women could sit privately without feeling shut in.

The medicine cupboards were set at a convenient height, with common herbs within easy reach.

He didn't give East Sea pearls.

He made me a little folding medical chest instead.

Every compartment could slide out for cleaning.

A hidden writing board let me record cases and pulses on house calls.

After trying it once, I ate half an extra piece of the jujube cake he brought that evening.

Later, Mingzheng secretly told me her brother had questioned the pastry-shop owner until his face went stiff, trying to find something sweet but not cloying or hard on digestion.

Watching Xie Tingheng diligently dry herbs in the courtyard, I thought his courtship really did resemble his military supply accounts.

Not particularly dashing.

But thorough in everything.