Qingchen was stunned for a moment, unsure of what to say, and even how to address him became a problem.

Grand Secretary Song? Lord Song? Teacher Song? Or...you?

She glanced at the doorway, "I..."

"Alright, let's get back to business." Seeing her somewhat at a loss, Song Yue said, "Your position as the Director of the Bureau of State Ceremonial Affairs is mainly responsible for..."

He briefly introduced her position, and after he finished speaking, he looked at her and said, "It's wonderful that you've come to the Ministry of Rites."

Qingchen thought to herself, now they are truly superior and subordinate. She can see him often while she's in the Ministry of Rites.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she remembered the pattern and told Song Yue what she had seen at the Xu residence yesterday. "Lord Lu arrived early yesterday morning. I also heard from the Embroidered Uniform Guard that someone had drawn this pattern at the gate of the Director of the Imperial Observatory."

Upon hearing this, Song Yue merely raised an eyebrow slightly.

Xu Silin and Lu Shenyun, it seems that all the people who like her have gathered together this time. One saved Shen Qian for her and even brought him back to the manor, while the other got drunk and collapsed in the snow because of her heartbreak... Lord Shen is really quite likable.

"What kind of pattern?" Song Yue asked, snapping out of his daze.

Qingchen walked to his desk, picked up a pen and drew a pattern on the paper, then walked back and showed the paper to him.

After reading it, Song Yue asked, "What came to mind?"

“The Crown Prince.” She frowned slightly. “I’m worried that this matter is related to the Crown Prince.” Coupled with the Imperial Observatory and Xu Yan, these factors made her feel uneasy.

"I just can't understand why it has to be sheep's blood. People eat sheep's blood, not pig's blood, and pig's blood is supposedly easier to obtain. If it's just a simple matter of using blood to vent anger, there's no need to use sheep's blood, unless there's something special about it. But I can't think of anything..."

"If you can't figure it out, then try it yourself." With that, he sent someone to Guanglu Temple to fetch some sheep's blood.

Looking at the sheep's blood, Qingchen thought for a while but had no clue. He then tried to draw the pattern with a pen dipped in the blood, but still couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Song Yue was also thinking, but he couldn't concentrate. He was already feeling dizzy from looking at the basin of blood.

It took Qingchen a while to notice his reaction, and she quickly put down her pen and asked, "Is Teacher alright... I forgot that Teacher has a fear of blood."

"It's nothing, it'll be fine in a bit." He said, standing up and rubbing his temples.

“I’ll take the teacher to see a doctor,” Qingchen blurted out. “...I know a doctor who might be able to cure the teacher’s illness.”

Actually, he was a high-ranking official, with imperial physicians to diagnose his illnesses and the opportunity to hire renowned doctors from across the country to prescribe medicine for him. But for some reason, she suddenly thought of Cheng Yi, and felt that what Cheng Yi had once said might not have been just boasting.

Song Yue looked down at her and said, "Okay."

"When are we going?"

How about tomorrow?

In front of Cheng Yi's clinic, Qingchen lightly stamped the snow off her boots. As she looked down, her fair and delicate nape was revealed, with fine downy hair faintly visible in the sunlight. Her black boots were small and elegant.

Song Yue followed behind her.

There were no patients in the clinic. Hot water was bubbling on the stove, and a pile of unprocessed herbs was stacked in the corner. As soon as they entered, a young man dressed in plain clothes came out from the inner room.

Cheng Yi glanced at Song Yue, noticing his luxurious clothes and distinguished demeanor, guessing he must be of high status. However, she ignored him and instead greeted Shen Qingchen warmly, "You've arrived! It's been a while since I've seen you… By the way, I just bought some pork this morning; you can take half home later…"

“Cheng Yi,” Shen Qingchen moved closer to Song Yue, “this is my teacher, Lord Song. I brought him here today for treatment.”

Cheng Yi nodded casually, then pulled Shen Qingchen aside and whispered, "Is he the Grand Secretary of the Inner Cabinet?"

"Yes, as I told you last time, he has a phobia of blood."

"He looks so young, he doesn't seem like a high-ranking official." Cheng Yi glanced at Song Yue out of the corner of his eye.

Can you cure him?

Cheng Yi rolled his eyes leisurely. "You got promoted, so you look down on me now?"

“Of course not.” Shen Qingchen shook his head. “Then… I’ll have to trouble you.”

"Wait," Cheng Yi tugged at her sleeve, "How is he treating you?"

"……very good."

"Really? I've never punished you, never made you suffer?"

"No." Her eyelashes blinked twice.

Cheng Yi stared at her face for a while, then said, "Alright, I won't make him suffer."

"...Will it hurt during treatment?"

Cheng Yi, seemingly unconcerned, said nonchalantly, "If you want him to feel pain, he will. Do you want to…"

"No," she answered quickly.

Cheng Yi raised an eyebrow and said while rolling up his sleeves, "This is a rare opportunity."

Qingchen shook his head.

Cheng Yi closed the door of the clinic, took some herbs from the medicine cabinet, put them into the pot for decocting medicine, and placed it on the stove. Then he asked Song Yue to take off his outer robe.

Song Yue didn't ask any questions, and just did whatever he was told. Shen Qingchen didn't want to watch him undress, so she turned her head to the side.

He gracefully removed his outer robe, leaving only his padded inner garment. When he turned around, he saw her head tilted to the side, looking as if she didn't dare to look.

"Qingchen," Cheng Yi called out.

Qingchen turned around but lowered her head. "Hmm?"

He took out his needle case, rolled up his sleeves, and said, "I'm missing a single ingredient, Rehmannia glutinosa. Go over there and buy it for me."

"Okay." She nodded. "I'll go now. Thank you for your help, teacher."

After Qingchen left, Cheng Yi had Song Yue lie down on the bamboo couch and covered him with a thin quilt.

He moved a small round stool to the edge of the bed, opened his blue-gray needle bag, slid his finger through it, selected a needle, looked at it and seemed dissatisfied, then put it back in the needle bag.

Song Yue lay on the bed, watching him play with his treasure, without saying a word.

"Grand Secretary Song, I, Cheng Yi, am just a doctor from a small clinic. Are you afraid?" Cheng Yi pulled out a needle and held it up in front of him, asking.

Song Yue looked at the needle and said, "I believe in Qingchen."

Cheng Yi glanced at him sideways and said, "I'm treating you not because you're a high-ranking official, but also because of Qingchen. This illness can't be cured in one or two treatments; it's quite troublesome."

"I know."

"Filial piety is the most important virtue, and Qingchen is a filial son. His father suffered from hysteria, and the treatment would cost a lot of money. He saved every penny and used all the money to treat his father. It wasn't easy for him."

"Um……"

“You are his teacher and a high-ranking official like Grand Secretary. I cured your illness, can you be kinder to him?” Cheng Yi was straightforward and never beat around the bush. “I won’t charge you for your consultation.”

Song Yue looked at him, and after a moment replied, "Okay."

"You promised, but you must keep your word." Cheng Yi instructed with concern, "Don't be too strict with him. Don't punish him harshly for minor mistakes; just give him a few words of advice. Also, he has a good nature. If he's bullied by someone in the court, you must help him. Can you do that?"

A moment of silence fell over the clinic.

"It can be done."

Cheng Yi's handsome face finally revealed a genuine smile, "Alright. Don't worry, I will definitely help you cure your illness."

He shed the demeanor of a rebellious youth and finally adopted the seriousness and earnestness of a doctor. "At what age did you fall ill?"

Six years old.

"Why?"

Song Yue blinked slightly. "I saw a dead person."

"One?" Cheng Yi paused, then quickly dismissed his guess. "...How many?"

"Many."

Cheng Yi could see that Song Yue's chest heaved irregularly twice when he answered that question. Clearly, he was struggling internally, the kind of struggle one instinctively resists when retrieving painful memories. As a high-ranking, composed politician, he was used to concealing his emotions, and this time, his face showed almost no abnormality.

Having said that, Cheng Yi had a general understanding of the cause of the illness. Since this was his first meeting with Song Yue, and they hadn't yet fully established a relationship of mutual trust, he didn't press for further details. Fainting at the sight of blood was both a physical and psychological ailment, requiring treatment from both aspects simultaneously.

Cheng Yi took out the needle and deliberately shook his head, "Just as pitiful as Qingchen."

This surprised Song Yue a bit. "What did you say?"

"It's nothing." Cheng Yi clicked his tongue. He had originally wanted to change Song Yue's mood, and it seemed that he had succeeded. "I've given you acupuncture. If it hurts, you can groan, but you can't scream."

"Why?" Where did this strange question come from?

Cheng Yi glanced at him sideways, "You, a dignified Grand Secretary, are complaining after just a couple of needle pricks. Aren't you ashamed? Qingchen will be back soon, he'll hear you."

"……good."

A high-ranking official in the imperial court is being kneaded like dough by a common doctor... Anyone who hears this would probably find it quite novel.

Cheng Yi loosened Song Yue's collar, rolled up his sleeves, and began to apply acupuncture. From the Tian Tu acupoint on his neck, to the Tian Fu acupoint on his upper arm, and then to the Qu Ze acupoint on his elbow... As the needles slowly pierced the area, Song Yue gradually felt a strong, indescribable tingling and numbness, but no pain. This was precisely Cheng Yi's skill; he quickly stimulated the acupoints.

Just then, Qingchen returned with the medicinal herbs. As soon as she entered the door, she heard Cheng Yi call out to her, "Qingchen, put the rehmannia root in the medicine pot. Then come and help me with this."

“Okay.” She did as she was told, then washed her hands, dried them, and went over. She saw Song Yue lying on the bamboo couch, his collarbone exposed by the widened collar, making his broad shoulders appear even wider. His eyelashes were long and thick under the lamplight, and his deep features were still the kind of face that noble ladies in the capital longed for.

Their eyes met; his pupils were dark and bright, his gaze calm and long.

She lowered her head slightly. "...Teacher, are you alright?"

"fine."

Cheng Yi urged, "Qingchen, come over here, bring a stool and sit down."

"good."

She did as he said, and then he said, "I'm going to perform acupuncture on his anus in a little while. His fingers will curl up involuntarily. Please hold his hands down so he doesn't move around."

"Mm," Qingchen replied, glancing at Song Yue's hand.

His hands were placed beside him, palms down, fingers naturally slightly curled. His hands were large, with long, slender fingers, and the finger bones were not prominent. Several pale blue veins ran along his fair skin, extending from between his fingers to his wrist.

This hand has approved official documents, written memorials, drafted proposals, advised the emperor, helped good people, and impeached corrupt officials... In the future, when he became the Grand Secretary, the well-being of the people in the two capitals and thirteen provinces of the Ming Dynasty would all depend on his pen.

"Hurry up!" Cheng Yi urged again.

Just as Qingchen was about to reach out to touch his hand, Song Yue turned his palm over so that it faced upwards, "So that's how you can stab the Ximen acupoint, right?"

Cheng Yi nodded. "Yes, I have an impatient personality."

Song Yue's palm lines were very messy. In addition to three very obvious long lines, there were also many short, fine lines that crisscrossed.

Qingchen gently placed his hand on it. His palm was warm.

"Hold on tight, Qingchen, don't let him move around." Cheng Yi gestured on his arm, preparing to administer acupuncture.

"Okay," she replied softly, then put in a little more effort.

Cheng Yi carefully inserted the needle, gently twisting it to insert it deeper and deeper. Qing Chen stared intently at the needle, afraid that he might accidentally prick it too hard.

At that moment, the hand that had been quietly moving under her palm moved slightly, and Song Yue curled his fingers and gently grasped her fingertips.

She thought he was in pain from the needles and looked up at him, but he slowly shook his head, as if to say, "I'm fine." Later, as Cheng Yi continued to administer the acupuncture, he finally let go of her hand, and Qingchen's palms were covered in a fine sweat.

Cheng Yi didn't know whether he saw it or not, but he didn't care.

...

"All done." Cheng Yi finished administering the acupuncture and got up to go to the stove to check the medicine.

"It seems like one ingredient is missing..." He leaned closer to the medicine pot to smell it, and said to Qingchen, "I need to go buy some medicine. Qingchen, can you keep an eye on the fire for me?"

"good."

After Cheng Yi left, Qingchen turned around and glanced at Song Yue lying on the bed.

Perhaps he was too tired, he closed his eyes, as if he had fallen asleep. His face looked very calm, his nose was straight with a perfect curve from the bridge to the tip, and his lips were naturally slightly upturned, with a faint red hue.

Qingchen watched for a while before realizing that he might catch a cold sleeping like that, so she pulled the thin blanket up for him.

He suddenly grabbed her hand.

She paused for a moment, "I thought you were asleep..."

He shook his head, but did not open his eyes.

"Are your eyes uncomfortable?" Qingchen leaned closer and asked softly.

"Um."

He was probably too tired, Qingchen thought. Her own eyes often felt tired when she overused them.

After hesitating for a moment while looking at the doorway, she placed her hands on his face and gently massaged his eye sockets.

The clinic was quiet, with only the faint crackling of the burning firewood in the stove. Her movements were gentle, and a faint fragrance wafted from her fingertips. Song Yue didn't speak, but kept her eyes closed, letting her massage him.

After a while, he took her hand and said, "Okay."

Are you feeling better?

"It feels very comfortable," he said, then opened his eyes and looked at her with a deep, wistful gaze.

Looking at her like that, she felt her heart start to race. She was about to say she was going to check on the medicine when he pulled her very, very close to him.

“Kiss me,” he said.