Bai Lan handed the medicine box to San Leng and led Ning Zhengyu straight to the study. At the door, there was no sign of Qing Mo, but the windows were all open. Presumably, Ning Muyan was inside.
Just as Bai Lan was about to knock, Ning Zhengyu, nearly his height, suddenly grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t… don’t knock!”
Bai Lan widened his eyes. “Entering without knocking would be impolite.”
“That’s not what I mean!” Ning Zhengyu pulled him aside.
“What, then?”
He avoided Bai Lan’s gaze, gripping his own sleeve. “I… I’m afraid of disturbing my elder brother.”
Bai Lan sighed helplessly. This little master was so awkward—he wanted to see Ning Muyan but was too timid to approach.
In the past, Bai Lan had barely interacted with Ning Zhengyu, only seeing him a few times at grand feasts. Each time, the boy had carried himself with an air of superiority, proud and aloof. But now, in this situation, he seemed entirely different.
“Then do you want to see him or not?”
“I do!” Ning Zhengyu blurted, then immediately covered his mouth, worried his mother might hear, and shot Bai Lan a sharp look. “You mustn’t tell anyone about this.”
Bai Lan rolled his eyes. “Who would I tell? Come on, follow me.”
He crept along the main study entrance, turned into the bamboo garden, and climbed onto the roof to a study window. He peered inside and saw someone sitting at the main desk.
He quickly waved to the cautious Ning Zhengyu. “Come on.”
Ning Zhengyu’s heart raced. Though he felt this was improper, his body was honest, and he tiptoed forward like a thief.
From the angle of the window, he could see the young man sitting upright, focused on writing at the desk.
Bai Lan noticed the admiration in Ning Zhengyu’s eyes, as if a river were about to burst out. He was surprised, but then—bang!—the boy collided with the window frame.
Both of them snapped to reality. Bai Lan panicked, trying to cover Ning Zhengyu’s mouth, but the boy, showing no gratitude, dashed away, leaving Bai Lan alone on the roof.
He hurried to follow but had only taken two steps when a low voice sounded behind him:
“Bai Lan.”
He froze and turned to see Ning Muyan standing at the window, hands behind his back. He forced a smile.
“Not out at your stall? Back so early?”
Bai Lan braced himself. “The sun was strong, and business was slow, so I came back.”
Ning Muyan leaned slightly. “Then what were you doing here?”
“Well… I was just checking if any bamboo shoots were growing in the garden.”
“Really? Did you see any?”
Bai Lan fidgeted. “I just arrived, haven’t found any yet.”
Ning Muyan said lightly, “You certainly are idle. Since that’s the case, come into the study.”
Bai Lan shook his head quickly. “I don’t mean to disturb you, Young Master. It’s almost mealtime, and I—”
“Go to the kitchen and prepare a mixed dish. Bring it to me at noon.”
Bai Lan froze. Comparing writing in the study versus cooking, he decided cooking was easier. I must thank the young master for helping with writing; today’s stall just opened. I couldn’t invite him to a restaurant, so a dish is the proper thanks.
He bowed. “Then I shall go first.”
Watching Bai Lan leave, Qing Mo, having tidied the desk, came over. “Young Doctor Xiao Jiang is really amusing. Bamboo shoots in the garden in this season?”
Ning Muyan said nothing, knowing Bai Lan was making an excuse. Yet he still watched him go, thoughtful. He comes by every day, and even sneaks a peek if I’m not in the study. Is he really that good-looking?
He absentmindedly touched his nose. What’s the big deal? I never said he couldn’t look.
Bai Lan returned to find Ning Zhengyu hiding around a corner. He snorted. “Second Young Master, you’re quick, but utterly lacking in loyalty.”
“I was just a little nervous earlier and didn’t want to act so clumsy in front of my elder brother.”
Bai Lan huffed. “Second Young Master, you were so worried about being rude that you left me behind—if I had been called into the study, I might have been in trouble.”
Ning Zhengyu snorted. “I wasn’t called in. Besides, you’re my elder brother’s physician. Going into the study to attend to him is your duty.”
Bai Lan waved his hand. “But if the Second Young Master were called to the academy to write essays during your day off, would you be pleased? Forget it, I won’t argue with you here—I have to go cook in the kitchen.”
Seeing Bai Lan genuinely annoyed, Ning Zhengyu hurried after him. “Wait, don’t go yet.”
Bai Lan frowned. “Second Young Master, what else do you need?”
Ning Zhengyu suddenly straightened and gave a formal bow. “Thank you for your help today, and for keeping what happened just now to yourself.”
Bai Lan noticed the boy’s mix of courtesy and unwillingness to fully humble himself, finding it amusing. “Fine, let’s say I was just bored. If the Second Young Master wants to see your elder brother, go to the study. I saw him there earlier. I must get back to my work now.”
With that, Bai Lan bowed and walked off.
Ning Zhengyu didn’t follow him. He glanced at Ning Muyan’s study once more, still too timid to enter, and eventually left the garden carefully.
Ever since Qiaorou and Qiu’er had been sent to the garden, things had been harmonious. In the latter half of the month, Bai Lan took his days off, returned to the countryside for a couple of days, and rested.
He had been in the city for nearly two months, and in the first month hadn’t gone home at all—only meeting Jiang Zichun briefly when she came to the city on business. Ning Muyan, knowing Bai Lan would return home, had given him two medical texts intended for his father. Along with the gifts Bai Lan had prepared for Jiang Zichun, it was quite a haul.
The manor even sent a carriage, with Liu Da from the outer court accompanying him, showing some respect. Liu Da also spoke highly of him during the trip.
Bai Lan didn’t care for such formalities—he was simply happy to spend a night at home.
By noon, he reached the village entrance, and Jiang Zichun had already looked out several times.
“The sun’s scorching. At least Dad came to pick me up… though why no straw hat? At least some shade for the sun.”
Jiang Zichun, seeing Bai Lan, lit up and quickly took his hand. Feeling how soft it had become, and noticing his face had grown a bit rounder, she exclaimed, “You’ve gotten fatter!”
“I’ve just filled out a bit, not fat,” Bai Lan replied.
She laughed and began leading him home, spotting Liu Da nearby. “Thank you for bringing Bai Ge’er back. Liu Da, come inside for tea.”
“No, Mistress Jiang. I must return to report to Young Master once I’ve delivered him.”
“Then I won’t detain you.”
Father and son happily made their way home. Bai Lan asked about Jiang Zichun’s life at the estate. Hearing that everything was going well, and that no one dared trouble him, Bai Lan was reassured. As long as his father lived comfortably in the village, even if his own plans at the Ning manor didn’t go perfectly, it was all worth it.
“Father, I brought you a lot of things. See if you like them.”
At home, Bai Lan unpacked everything, letting Jiang Zichun inspect it.
“They’re all good,” Jiang Zichun said, looking around. “Why did you buy so much? Even medical books—do you have enough money?”
“The books were from the young master,” Bai Lan replied. “The rest I bought myself. I get six or seven qian a month at the manor. Also, when I had free time, I made mosquito incense and oil to sell at the South Gate Temple—earned a little extra.”
Jiang Zichun smiled. “Good, but don’t tire yourself. Even on your days off, you’re still working.”
Bai Lan had actually had a relatively relaxed life at the manor, mostly attended to by servants, so he reassured her. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
He added, “Selling at the stall, I noticed women with health issues came by. It encouraged me—I’ll study this area more.”
“That’s a good thing,” Jiang Zichun said. “Few female doctors exist, so if you master this, it’ll benefit both yourself and the women who need help.”
With that, Jiang Zichun hurried into his room to fetch some old medical texts. “Since you’ve been learning with Young Master Ning, you’ll be able to use these soon.”
“These are excellent books on women’s health, father collected them, though few women dared seek treatment, so they weren’t much used. Study them carefully—they’ll advance your skills.”
The books were dusty, but Bai Lan treasured them, holding them close. “Yes.”
Jiang Zichun stroked his beard. “Young Master Ning treated you well—allowing you to return with gifts. When you go back, bring something for him too.”
Bai Lan shook his head. “Father, in such a grand household, he’s seen everything. We needn’t bother.”
Jiang Zichun smiled. “Even so, Young Master Ning is not haughty. Even the highest among men seeks sincerity.”
Bai Lan paused.
Jiang Zichun patted his head. “Understand?”
“Your words make sense.”
Bai Lan stayed two days at home, keeping busy. He discussed treatments for simple women’s ailments with his father. On the day he left, he waited until the sun was less scorching before taking his bundle to the village entrance.
On the official road, a bullock cart awaited, carrying villagers heading to the city. Jiang Zichun had arranged for Bai Lan to ride along.
“I packed gifts for Young Master Ning.” Jiang Zichun sent him off in the cart. “Hurry to the city, or it will get dark soon.”
Bai Lan nodded, hoisting his bundle onto the carriage. “Father, you should head back as well. I’ll be back to see you during my day off.”
“All right,” Jiang Zichun replied.
Bai Lan had never liked the coming-and-going of farewells. On the cart, he opened a large umbrella, shading himself almost completely, and sat quietly, dozing a little on the swaying bullock cart. When he lifted the umbrella, the village was already far behind, and the heat of the sun-soaked earth clung to him, so he tightened the umbrella again for shade.
The cart jolted and swayed, and Bai Lan almost nodded off holding the umbrella. He only woke fully when a villager called his name.
“Ge’er, we’re almost in the city. I can’t go to Li Hua Yuan, so I can only drop you at the city gate.”
Seeing the sun set low and dusk spreading across the land, Bai Lan quickly said, “Thank you, Uncle Zhang. I can get to the city from the gate myself. I appreciate your help.”
“No need for thanks,” the man replied.
Bai Lan got down at the city gate, his legs numb from sitting so long. He trudged into the city, the sunset painting the streets golden. Night market vendors were just preparing to open, while some city folk carrying empty baskets and carts headed home.
Bai Lan, with the heavy bundle on his back and his sun-shielding umbrella, limped along, feeling a pang of melancholy. Birds returned to their nests, villagers went home, and he alone was headed to work, wondering when he might next return to the manor. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar carriage at the edge of the street.
………………………………………
Bai Lan ran forward, heart lifting, and called out, “Qing Mo!”
“Little Doctor Jiang,” Qing Mo greeted.
“It really is you! From afar I thought it was the manor carriage and worried I’d mistaken it for someone else.”
Qing Mo smiled and stepped forward, taking Bai Lan’s bundle and umbrella. Bai Lan had been hoping to catch a ride, and hadn’t even asked, yet Qing Mo was so considerate it made him feel embarrassed.
“Little Doctor Jiang, get on the carriage. You must be tired from returning from the village.”
“Is the Young Master also here?” Bai Lan asked quietly.
Before Qing Mo could answer, the carriage curtain was drawn slightly, and Ning Muyan’s voice came from inside: “Stop dawdling and get on, or you’ll walk back by yourself.”
Bai Lan quickly climbed in.
Seeing Ning Muyan sitting upright in the main seat, he smiled brightly. “So coincidental, Young Master is here too?”
“On patrol,” Ning Muyan replied.
“Oh,” Bai Lan said, teasing, “I thought you came specially to meet me.”
Ning Muyan looked at him. Though the joke struck true, he recalled that he had come from the manor that afternoon and waited at the city gate for hours, seeing no one. As dusk fell, he finally saw Bai Lan slowly making his way, carrying bundles reluctantly. He didn’t comment further.
“You expected me to fetch you this late?” Ning Muyan said.
Bai Lan shut his mouth, realizing his jest might have annoyed him. Sensing the young man’s subdued mood, he hugged his small bundle and stayed quiet.
His silence seemed to irritate Ning Muyan further. “Why are you back so late?”
“The sun was strong at noon, and it cooled down later,” Bai Lan answered. “Is something wrong at the manor?”
“No. Just don’t come back this late anymore.”
“Why?”
Ning Muyan’s expression softened slightly. “At night, do you feel safe coming back alone, little one?”
“I understand,” Bai Lan muttered. “I just wanted to spend more time with my father.”
Hearing this, Ning Muyan’s brow shifted slightly as he relaxed his tone. “Little Doctor Jiang, is everything well?”
“Yes, all is well.”
Ning Muyan’s eyes fell on the bundle he carried. “What did you bring back?”
“Just some medicine.” Bai Lan recalled what Jiang Zichun had entrusted him to deliver and pulled it out. “My father asked me to bring this to you.”
Ning Muyan’s eyes flickered with surprise. He took the bottles, noting the label: “Medicine for treating typhoid?”
Bai Lan nodded.
“Thank you for your trouble, Little Doctor Jiang,” Ning Muyan said. “Keep it for now. I’ll ask for it when I need it.”
As Bai Lan reached to take it, Ning Muyan suddenly added, “Don’t sell it at the stall.”
“My father said it’s for you, so I won’t,” Bai Lan assured him.
Only then did Ning Muyan hand over the bottles.
Outside, darkness was settling, and the carriage dimmed. Bai Lan rolled up the curtain, letting the warm glow of street lamps spill in. He had never seen the city streets so late; the night market lanterns were countless, making the streets brilliantly lit.
The vendors energetically fanned their roasting foods, and the aroma of grilled meat mixed with cumin drifted with the night breeze, making Bai Lan’s stomach stir. He glanced at Ning Muyan. “It’s late… have you had dinner yet?”
“Not yet.”
Bai Lan leaned in a little, suggesting, “Shall we get something to eat?”
“For example?” Ning Muyan asked.
“The grilled skewers outside smell amazing.”
“That works,” Ning Muyan said.
Bai Lan immediately called the carriage to a stop, waiting for Ning Muyan to have Qing Mo buy the food. Yet the carriage remained on the roadside, and Ning Muyan didn’t move for a long while.
“?”
Bai Lan blinked at him.
“Go ahead, I’ll wait here,” Ning Muyan said, thoughtfully adding, “If you’re too tired, give the money to Qing Mo and have him fetch it for you.”
Bai Lan ground his teeth inwardly—how miserly could this master be!
“Qing Mo!” he called, fishing for a coin from his pouch. “Please run this errand for me.”
“All right,” Qing Mo said cheerfully.
Ning Muyan calmly instructed, “Beef skewers at the night market, ten wen for two; mutton skewers, ten wen for three. You’re giving Qing Mo twenty wen?”
“That’ll be enough for me.”
Ning Muyan’s expression remained unchanged. “Aren’t you inviting me?”
Bai Lan’s eyes went even wider. “Why would I need to invite Young Master!”
“I wrote the sign for you.”
“But I also made fresh bamboo and assorted dishes to thank you.”
“That was manor food. How is that different from inviting me?”
Bai Lan’s temper flared. Indeed, one could never refuse someone who had helped them. He fished five more wen from his pouch, but thinking back to Qing Mo having helped him with the bundle earlier, he begrudgingly added another ten wen. “Buy Young Master a mutton skewer as well.”
“And invite yourself too.”
Qing Mo chuckled politely. “Thanks, Little Doctor Jiang.”
Bai Lan huffed and sat back on the carriage, glaring at the world’s unfairness and holding his bundle tight. Tomorrow he would sell all the medicine his father had given that miserly Zhou Pa Pi.