Bai Lan was starving. When he returned home and began to eat, he could barely take a few bites. Exhausted, he finished his evening wash and prepared to rest early, as he would have to go out for charity treatment again the next morning.
Before he could lie down, three knocks came from the wall near the academy. Bai Lan immediately perked up, ran to the window, and glanced toward his father’s room, where a candle was still burning. His father must be inside.
Bai Lan opened the door, slipped out of the clinic, and went around to a small side alley. Sure enough, someone was waiting on the cobblestones.
Though Ning Muyan had moved in after the academy was settled, his days were full with meetings, supervising exams, and correcting papers at night. In reality, Bai Lan saw him even less than before he had moved.
“What brings you here today?” Bai Lan asked.
“The exams are almost done, and I haven’t seen you for several days,” Ning Muyan said, quickly reaching for Bai Lan’s hands. Feeling the dampness on him, he asked, “Have you bathed and prepared to rest?”
Bai Lan nodded, then rotated his wrists and complained, “I spent the whole day at charity treatment, doing acupuncture and writing prescriptions. My wrists are sore. I barely ate anything at noon—just enough to fill my stomach.”
Hearing this, Ning Muyan looked concerned. “Let me massage your wrists. Tomorrow, I’ll have Qing Mo bring you lunch, alright?”
Bai Lan handed him some medicinal wine from his bag and lifted his hand to have Ning Muyan rub his wrists. “If Qing Mo brings lunch, how do we tell my father?”
“Just say it’s in gratitude for Doctor Jiang’s kindness. My teacher also valued charity and encouraged benevolent deeds, often visiting to offer care. I’ve learned by example,” Ning Muyan explained.
Bai Lan looked up and smiled. “Alright then.”
“What would you like to eat?” Ning Muyan asked.
“Lotus-leaf roasted chicken, braised goose, seasonal pickles, hairy crabs…” Bai Lan listed.
Ning Muyan tapped his forehead. “We might as well have a full imperial feast.”
Bai Lan laughed. “Why are we here in the alley instead of the lakeside? Aren’t you afraid someone might see us?”
“The early autumn wind is cold by the lake. With the season changing, it’s easy to catch a chill. How could we risk it?” Ning Muyan replied.
Bai Lan nodded. It was true—the lake had been full of mosquitoes in summer and cold at other times. But he knew the real reason: they simply couldn’t stay long in any one place.
Feeling drowsy, Bai Lan collapsed into Ning Muyan’s embrace, clinging to his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I want to talk more with you, but I’m too tired. Perhaps tonight you should sleep at the clinic.”
He nuzzled Ning Muyan; the evening wind was chilly, but in Ning Muyan’s arms, he felt nothing of the cold, as if most of the wind had been blocked.
Ning Muyan wrapped an arm around Bai Lan’s back. Facing his request, he found it hard to refuse and was about to agree, leaning down to kiss Bai Lan’s ear.
In the alley, the lanterns were few, but Ning Muyan’s gaze flickered at a thin figure standing not far away. His spine stiffened suddenly.
Bai Lan waited a moment for Ning Muyan’s reply, and when none came, he frowned. “Fine, don’t go. Why not say anything at all?”
Ning Muyan silently wanted to pull Bai Lan fully into his arms and silence his complaints, but it was impossible to restrain the tiny, squawking figure in front of him.
Bai Lan wriggled free, raised his chin, and met Ning Muyan’s eyes. A hint of awkwardness flashed across Ning Muyan’s expression, and Bai Lan felt unease settle in.
He drew a quiet breath, holding onto a flicker of hope, and turned around—only to freeze when he saw Jiang Zichun under a street lamp, holding two large bundles of medicine. One slipped from his hands with a thud.
Ning Muyan was about to call out, but Jiang Zichun, looking as though he had seen a ghost, hurriedly picked up the bundles and passed by the two, only to realize the alley was a dead end. Forcing himself, he turned back, passing them again.
Seeing the two still entwined, Jiang Zichun gritted his teeth and muttered low, “Enough hugging—go home!”
Bai Lan watched his father disappear around the alley corner, scratching his scalp nervously.
Aside from the momentary fluster when discovered, Ning Muyan quickly regained his composure.
As the saying goes, “If you stand by the river long enough, your shoes will get wet.” Meeting in a secluded alley near the home could hardly go unnoticed; at the lake, there were more people, and the “scenery” was not the reason—it was the seclusion that drew people there.
He patted Bai Lan’s back and took his hand. “It’s done. I’ll go explain things to Doctor Jiang.”
Bai Lan waved him off. “I can tell him. What could you do? Father won’t be angry with you; he knows your family has helped ours. No matter what you say, he won’t argue, but you can’t explain everything clearly either.”
“But…”
“I know you want to protect me, Young Master, but that’s my father—he’s not going to eat me alive,” Bai Lan said. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him first. You can speak to him another day.”
Ning Muyan hesitated for a moment but didn’t insist further.
“Alright, you go back first. We’ll each talk to our families. Your task is heavier than mine anyway,” Bai Lan said.
Ning Muyan sighed. “Fine. Then you talk to Doctor Jiang first. If it doesn’t work out, come find me.”
Bai Lan nodded, ran a few steps, then turned back to hug Ning Muyan and plant a quick kiss on his lips. Since they had already been spotted, some scolding was inevitable, but this small moment of comfort was better than nothing.
He then dashed toward the clinic, waving to Ning Muyan at the corner.
“I’m back.”
Upon entering the clinic, Bai Lan immediately saw his father seated at the table. With a sudden, almost giddy question, he piped up, not realizing a cup of tea had already been steeped, giving the impression of a long, serious conversation ahead.
Feeling nervous, Bai Lan sat down opposite his father.
“When did you two… get together? Really?” Jiang Zichun asked, practically bursting with curiosity.
Bai Lan’s father, usually a man of little idle interest, was visibly shocked. He had never paid much attention to young couples hugging in public, but today, seeing the person wrapped around his own son—especially someone like Ning Muyan—caught him completely off guard.
“Father!” Bai Lan exclaimed, seeing the excitement in his father’s eyes. There was none of the sternness he expected; his father was more gossiping than a village matron.
“I’m asking properly,” Jiang Zichun replied.
“Well… for a while now,” Bai Lan stammered.
“For a while now! Bai Lan, you haven’t been slipping drugs into his food, have you?”
“Father, that’s not what I mean!” Bai Lan huffed. “He’s a cabbage, I’m the wild boar trying to root it up—that’s all!”
Jiang Zichun cleared his throat. “Well… not quite that harsh.”
“It’s just that I’m surprised Ning Muyan is so straightforward. You…”
“He.” Bai Lan knew exactly what his father wanted to ask and spoke firmly, “It’s him who said he likes me.”
Jiang Zichun was silent for a long moment, then regained his composure. “Bai Lan, I’m glad you have someone in your heart, and it’s rare that the feelings are mutual. It’s not that I intend to go against your wishes. You know the Ning family as well as I do—if you want to be with Ning Muyan, it won’t be easy.”
His words were gentle, but he feared Bai Lan might not fully grasp them. Bai Lan was his own son, the best in the world to him, the only one he thought worthy of Ning Muyan. But a father’s perspective is not the only one that matters.
“I understand, Father,” Bai Lan said.
Though reaching the stage of mutual affection had been difficult, he would not retreat now.
There were many things he couldn’t fully explain to Jiang Zichun, so he simply said, “Father, Ning Muyan is sincere. For his sincerity, I’m willing to endure hardship.”
Jiang Zichun sighed.
“I understand your concerns. Let’s do this: he promised to formally come to the house after the academy is on track. Let’s set the end of this year as a marker. If he hasn’t given an answer by then, I’ll follow your wishes,” Bai Lan said, taking his father’s hand. “A man must first establish himself before marriage, right?”
“Knowing you have plans eases my mind. But…” Jiang Zichun’s tone grew stern, “If marriage can’t happen, don’t let anyone sleep over at our home. Don’t speak recklessly—you don’t want people thinking little of you.”
Bai Lan felt his ears warm. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t have acted so familiarly, but they had lived together before; the usual formalities were already relaxed.
“Alright, alright.”
Jiang Zichun spent another hour lecturing Bai Lan, reminding him of the next day’s charity treatment. Bai Lan drank some water and went to his room, diving into bed.
Exhausted, he had intended to sleep early, but after today’s ordeal, he found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling. His father’s heartfelt advice left him anxious.
Though Ning Muyan insisted on marrying him, and the Ning family could not easily oppose him, a headstrong proposal could anger the matriarch. If anything happened to her, it wouldn’t just be Bai Lan who would suffer—Ning Muyan, as a teacher and scholar, would also face difficulty.
These issues had always existed, but before, immersed in rekindled warmth and Ning Muyan’s tenderness, Bai Lan had chosen to set them aside. Now, he could no longer avoid confronting them.
Two days later, after charity treatment ended, Bai Lan was preparing to speak with Ning Muyan when Ning Muyan suddenly arrived at the clinic to fetch him.