April brought mild weather, with few rainy days, and the streets were busy.
Bai Lan watched the lakeside, already a lush green, with people boating and others strolling along the shore in groups. After supper, he sometimes walked by the lake to aid digestion, enjoying the spring scenery. Yet one question lingered in his mind:
Why did Ning Muyu plan to return so early?
The provincial exam results came out in March. After the official announcement, it would take a few days for the imperial palace to summon the candidates for the final examination before the emperor. Even after the palace exam, it would take time for results, official appointments, banquets, and ceremonial processions—often a month or two before everything settled.
Ning Muyu, however, should not have been able to return so quickly.
Bai Lan considered that perhaps Ning Muyu had written to reassure him, yet the letter only mentioned he would depart for the capital the following day. Unable to understand the reason, Bai Lan could only wait.
The journey from the mansion to the capital could be done in three to five days. With fast horses, it would take no more than four days—just a few nights of travel. Yet Bai Lan waited five or six days without word; Ning Muyu did not come.
That morning, it rained. Bai Lan wrapped himself in a thick coat to prepare the remaining medicinal herbs. Ning Muyu had not arrived, but a servant from the Bian family came first, requesting a follow-up consultation.
Bai Lan thought: given how much trouble the young master had caused, it was surprising he was still alive. Since they came asking, Bai Lan had no choice but to make the trip.
As before, he had to report to Madam Bian first before seeing the patient.
“Truly mad, that Ning Muyu! Luckily, the arrangements weren’t rushed at the time, or it would have been impossible to handle.”
“Seeing it this way, the Qi family fared better, though regrettably, they were already married.”
As Bai Lan entered the garden, he overheard two disjointed remarks, followed by consolation:
“Never mind, the capital is far superior; the empress’s selections there will certainly surpass anything from the provincial prefectures.”
“You have no idea how many of those high-and-mighty types in the capital are spoiled sons, hardly worth elevating. Truly capable ones are rare. Still, man makes his own fortune; let’s wait and see.”
As she spoke, a maid announced, “The doctor has arrived.” The room fell silent.
Bai Lan frowned slightly at what he had overheard, but upon entering, he relaxed again.
“You’re here. Last time you examined Daiyun, his condition improved somewhat. Now you’re called again to help him recover fully.”
Bai Lan acknowledged and prepared to begin.
“Treat her carefully—your skill is indispensable,” someone said.
Bai Lan didn’t bother listening to such flattery. After a few words, he made his way to see Bian Daiyun. Rain had left everything wet and dreary, hardly ideal for a house call; he much preferred staying under the eaves, brewing medicine. He figured he would make a few rounds of consultations and then return.
It had been over half a month, and Bian Daiyun had indeed improved since the first time Bai Lan saw him.
He was now willing to eat, giving his body some strength to get out of bed and move about. Though his complexion remained somewhat pale, it was far better than lying bedridden all day.
Bai Lan followed his usual routine, taking his pulse and then writing a prescription.
At that moment, Bian Daiyun dismissed those nearby and asked, “That day… did you see everything?”
Bai Lan paused. “By the lake, there are always countless passersby. Those meeting in secret exist in numbers too, but people trying to end their lives are rarer.”
“You did see,” Bian Daiyun stated.
Bai Lan glanced at him. Draped in clothing, the once radiant Bian Daiyun now looked worn. Bai Lan realized that the reason he had been called again was likely because Bian Daiyun requested it.
People are like this—when those around them deliberately hide everything, leaving only themselves to cling to memories, it makes the past feel like a dream. One naturally wants to hear from others traces of the person who once existed.
Bai Lan understood: Bian Daiyun wanted to hear from him, to witness once more that they had once been together.
“That day… I shouldn’t have agreed to him. If I hadn’t, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”
While Bai Lan wrote the prescription, he listened as Bian Daiyun mumbled. Though unspoken, Bai Lan inferred that Bian Daiyun had indeed run off with that man, and it was someone nearby reporting them that led to him being brought back under strict watch.
“Now that things have come this far, you should take care of yourself,” Bai Lan advised.
Bian Daiyun suddenly snapped, “You don’t understand anything! You know nothing at all!”
Bai Lan rolled his eyes. He might not understand, but as for Bian Daiyun… well, who was he to talk?
All Bai Lan knew was that back then, he had only glanced at Ning Muyu in the corridor as he returned, and Bian Daiyun had scolded and mocked him for some time, even forcing him to stand outside in the cold. Truly, he didn’t need misfortune dragging others along.
Annoyed, Bai Lan added two extra doses of bitter medicine to the prescription, enough to make one’s tongue tingle. “Done. Follow this prescription and you’ll recover quickly.”
After finishing the consultation, Bai Lan hurried back, the rain still falling. He returned to the clinic and had just set down his medical kit when a carriage pulled up outside. Ning Zhengyu leapt in, drenched, rushing inside.
“Why are you here? It’s pouring rain!” Bai Lan exclaimed.
Ning Zhengyu gasped for breath, urgency on his face. “Hurry with me to the mansion!”
“To do what?”
“My brother has returned!”
Bai Lan’s brows furrowed. Returning without informing anyone—he would look foolish rushing to greet him. “His return was inevitable. By now, everyone in the mansion knows he topped the provincial exam. Why should I go stir up more commotion?”
“Ah! Topping the exam? My brother didn’t even attend the palace examination! Grandmother was furious when she found out. She scolded him and made him kneel in the ancestral hall for three days!”
Bai Lan froze. “He was first in the provincial exam—surely a top scholar. Even with mistakes, he would still be in the first division. Why wouldn’t he go to the palace exam?”
Ning Zhengyu’s face was anxious. “I don’t understand either. I haven’t even spoken two words with him yet. He went to see grandmother and they argued. He’s still being punished in the ancestral hall, and grandmother’s headaches have flared up. You must come quickly!”
Bai Lan, already worried, followed down the steps. “Then I’ll go check on the grandmother first.”
Barely settled back at the clinic, he grabbed his medical kit and rushed into the carriage, heading to the Ning mansion he hadn’t visited for over two months.
Everything was as before, yet Bai Lan sensed from the cautious servants that the atmosphere in the mansion was heavy.
He followed Ning Zhengyu to the Bao’an Hall. The attendants moved lightly in the garden. Upon entering, the occasional murmur of the grandmother complaining of her headache reached him.
“Doctor Xiao Jiang, you’ve arrived. Grandmother has been in pain all night.”
Bai Lan said, “Madam Kang, please prepare a stronger decoction of the previous prescription.”
“Very well.”
Bai Lan entered to see the grandmother in bed, her complexion sallow, a protective cloth around her head. Likely the headache, compounded by worry over Ning Muyu, had taken its toll. She seemed aged overnight, her usual authority diminished, occasionally sighing and sobbing.
“With her like this, medicine alone will only slightly relieve the pain. Acupuncture is needed for quicker relief,” Bai Lan noted.
Madam Kang fretted. “Anything to stabilize her headache is fine, just please, Doctor Xiao Jiang.”
“No problem.”
Bai Lan retrieved the silver needles Ning Muyu had previously given him. Though inexperienced in acupuncture, running the clinic had exposed him to many ailments. Encouraged by his father, repeated practice had honed his skill.
Having cared for the grandmother before, he knew her condition well. A few needles later, her groaning ceased. After the treatment, her frown eased, and she soon fell asleep.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Tan Yun, who had attended her through the night, returned to the garden, also relieved.
Ning Zhengyu, pretending to worry, stayed in the garden. Once Tan Yun left, he said aloud, “We don’t know if grandmother will have another attack. She cannot withstand strain. For safety, Doctor Xiao Jiang, please stay in the mansion a bit longer.”
“Everything regarding Tianmendong remains as before. It’s fine, Doctor Xiao Jiang can rest there first and return when grandmother wakes.”
Madam Kang nodded repeatedly. “Yes, it’s truly troublesome for Doctor Jiang to wait a little longer.”
It wasn’t just because Bai Lan had successfully treated the old lady’s headaches; it was also that he was the family physician the household had trusted for years.
Bai Lan did not refuse and agreed to stay.
“Fortunately, you were able to treat Grandmother. Otherwise, my brother would have earned a reputation for being unfilial,” Ning Zhengyu said.
Bai Lan, considering how things had been unfolding in the Ning household, knew that Ning Muyan likely no longer cared about his reputation. Yet he still felt sorry for the old lady, who in her previous life had passed away in sorrow due to the Ning family’s downfall, and tonight had almost been frightened to death by Ning Muyan again.
“My brother is in the ancestral hall, and I’ll stay outside to watch over things. You should go in and see him,” Ning Zhengyu said.
Bai Lan was slightly surprised at Ning Zhengyu’s thoughtfulness today. Just as he was about to speak, Ning Zhengyu urged him, “Hurry, go.”
The ancestral hall was dimly lit with flickering candles. Upon entering, Bai Lan saw rows of spirit tablets, so uniform that one instinctively held their breath.
He opened the door slightly and immediately saw Ning Muyan kneeling on a meditation cushion in the center of the hall. According to Ning Zhengyu, he had been kneeling there since yesterday afternoon and continued until now.
Even with the cushion, his knees must have been swollen and numb from so many hours, yet his back remained perfectly straight.
The hall, damp from the rain, felt even emptier and colder. Bai Lan looked at Ning Muyan and felt a pang of indescribable emotion. He called softly, “Young master.”
Hearing the familiar voice, the kneeling man turned his head. Looking up at Bai Lan, he said, “You’ve returned?”