Chapter 4

Gu Changfeng was badly hurt. A sword wound ran through his back, barely missing his heart.

Fortunately, the Xus were wealthy. With rare medicinal ingredients, our only concern was whether he could swallow them, never whether we could afford them.

His wound had been soaked in river water, and he had lost too much blood. That night he developed a high fever. I stayed with him until morning.

He woke again at daybreak.

His hand moved, instinctively reaching beneath the pillow.

“Your sword has been safely put away,” I told him knowingly. “The scabbard washed away in the river. I’ve sent people to look for it. If they can’t find it, draw me a picture and I’ll have another made to match.”

If I didn’t put it away, he might use it to cut me down.

Newly awake and far from well, he still managed an imposing air. Propped against the headboard, he studied me without revealing anything. “Who exactly are you?”

“Xu. Xu Miaomiao. If you insist on asking, I suppose I’m the person who saved your life… Oh, and Old Zhou, who fished you out. Remember to thank him later.”

The spectators had long since been ushered out. The room actually felt a little empty.

I rubbed my face, stiff from being up all night, went to the table, and took a steaming bowl of golden chicken soup from a food box. I began drinking it.

I was Father’s precious darling. Naturally, after staying awake all night, I needed to replenish my strength.

The rich aroma filled the room. As I drank, I slowly explained how all this had happened.

I had damaged Gu Changfeng’s reputation by inventing a romance with him.

But I had also genuinely saved his life.

That made us even.

When my brief explanation ended, he said nothing for a long time, merely watching me thoughtfully.

Ah… The chicken soup probably smelled too good.

Guiltily, I cupped my hands around the bowl, licked the grease from my lips, and pointed aside.

“It isn’t that I begrudge you any. Your doctor said that with such a serious injury, you must eat lightly. I’ve even cooled yours for you.”

A bowl of thin white porridge sat by the window.

The chicken soup contained bamboo shoots and matsutake mushrooms. Beside it, the plain porridge looked almost pitiful.

Gu Changfeng remained silent.

I laughed awkwardly. “If it’s not to your taste, Master Gu, shall I sing you a little song to help it down?”

The ghost of a smile touched his face. “How does Miss Xu know my surname is Gu?”

Me?

I’d seen your substitute among the Princess Royal’s lovers and even eaten grapes he peeled for me. No, never mind that.

“Ha-ha. A guess. Does it matter?”

“Ha-ha. Just asking. It doesn’t.”

His injuries were too severe for him to leave, so he stayed to recover.

To maintain my story that I would marry no one else, I visited every day.

It was a closely guarded lie. Beyond Father, Gu Changfeng, and me, not a fourth person knew.

That created certain difficulties.

As a fresh-faced young woman, I couldn’t spend long alone with a man. Maids and matrons clustered outside. Every so often a doctor came to take his pulse, a boy brought food, or a maid came to clean.

One moment Gu Changfeng was regulating his breathing; the next, a spoonful of porridge was abruptly thrust into his mouth. I gazed at him tenderly. “I got up before dawn to make it. Have a taste, my savior.”

One moment he was dozing; the next, I was throwing myself into his arms.

“My savior, open your eyes and look at Miaomiao!”

He glanced at the wound on his chest, which I had pressed open, and said through gritted teeth, “If you bear me a mortal grudge, Miss Xu, you might at least make it quick.”

I clutched my handkerchief and sniffled, feeling terribly guilty.

“My savior, you break Miaomiao’s heart.”

I really did want him to get better quickly.

First, Yipinxian couldn’t afford to offend somewhere like Ten Thousand Swords Manor.

Second, anyone capable of injuring a fighter like Gu Huai was even further beyond us.

Unfortunately, the affair had caused such a stir that all Qingzhou knew the Xus had taken him in. If his enemies came looking, a single inquiry would lead them to us.

Martial artists were unlike other people. When they struck, wiping out a whole household was no idle threat.

I couldn’t wait for him to leave. Otherwise, I would never have tended him myself.

While he slept unconscious, I hummed and sorted vegetables beside him.

When he woke to drink plain porridge, I quietly gnawed on a pork hock.

But Gu Changfeng was so particular.

Frowning, he looked at me coldly and asked, word by word, “Miss Xu. Where are your manners?”

I laughed and pulled a bowl from the food box.

“Today’s different. No plain porridge. The doctor says you can eat other things now.”

“What is it?”

I lifted the lid, and a sweet fragrance billowed into the air like a cloud.

It was jujube porridge.

Jujube porridge. Jujube porridge.

Pit the jujubes, dry them, and grind them to powder. Add osmanthus and dried tangerine peel, then simmer slowly over a low flame.

When Mother was alive, this had been her favorite thing to make.

Later, when Father opened the restaurant, every table received a bowl of sweet porridge to line the stomach before the drinking began.

Restaurants had always found ways to make money from wine: watering it down, putting old wine in new bottles, selling good wine at high prices. Whatever their method, they all hoped customers would drink more and spend more.

Yipinxian did the opposite. We offered an unassuming bowl of porridge and urged people to drink a little less. Someone at home was waiting for them.

With this porridge, Mother had helped Father build his business and earned a lifetime of his devotion.

Passed down to me, the same porridge had earned Shen Shi’an’s verdict that I had no ambition.

But I still loved making it. It tasted of Mother.

After days of choking down plain porridge, Gu Changfeng finally had something sweet. His mood improved enough that he was willing to exchange a few more words.

“What are you humming?”

“Mu Guiying Takes Command.”

He nodded. “No wonder it’s so martial.”

Then he asked, “Must you hum?”

“How boring sorting vegetables would be if I didn’t.”

“There’s a pressure point on the body,” he said softly. “One light touch, and a person goes mute. Come sit a little closer.”

What?

“As it happens, my throat’s a little sore. I’ll stop. I’ll find some malva nuts to steep in water later.”

I sat down, picked up a long bean, and snapped it viciously in two.

Hah! Gu, you dog. That’s your head.