Chapter 99: Extra 2: Heng Zhi Qing Hui (Xie Heng IF Line)

Spring days in the south of the Yangtze River are always filled with a gentle breeze, and apricot blossom raindrops fall on the bluestone pavement, splashing tiny wet marks. Xie Heng walked ahead, carrying his medicine box on his back, while Yun Zhi followed behind with a bamboo basket filled with freshly picked mint and licorice, the leaves still covered in morning dew, gleaming in the sunlight.

"Thank you, brother. Wait for me." Yun Zhi smiled as she caught up with him, picked up an apricot blossom that had fallen into his hair, and gently rubbed her fingertips against his temples. "Look, the apricot blossoms have followed you."

Xie Heng paused and turned to look at her. She wore a light green cloth skirt, her hair loosely tied with a wooden hairpin. Her eyes were relaxed after the haze had faded away. Without the confinement of palace walls, without Xiao Jin's entanglement, without the burden of the Yun family's unjust case, the light in her eyes finally returned to the same clarity as when they first met, bright enough to reflect the shadows of apricot blossoms.

"Go any slower, or the silver needles in the medicine box will get messed up." He reached out and tucked the loose hair that was blown to her cheek behind her ear. His fingertips touched her warm earlobe. They both paused slightly, then quickly looked away. A faint, minty-fresh shyness filled the air.

They rented a house with a small courtyard at the east end of town, where she planted her favorite osmanthus tree and several beds of medicinal herbs. Every morning, Xie Heng would go to the town to set up a stall to practice medicine, and Yun Zhi would sort the herbs and dry the ginger slices in the yard. Occasionally, she would go to the stall to help him pass medicine and bandages, and listen to him share some health tips with the villagers.

Once, when Aunt Zhang came to treat a cold, she saw Yunzhi helping to grind medicine. She smiled and joked, "Doctor Xie, your wife is so virtuous, capable, and kind. You two are truly a match made in heaven."

Yun Zhi's face flushed instantly, and she paused with the medicine grinder in her hand, glancing secretly at Xie Heng. He was handing medicine to Aunt Zhang, and when he heard her words, he looked up with a faint smile in his eyes and said to Aunt Zhang, "Aunt Zhang, you're joking. Zhi'er is my sister, but she has indeed helped me a lot."

That being said, after Aunt Zhang left, Xie Heng took out a cloth bag from his medicine box. Inside was a piece of freshly bought osmanthus cake. He handed it to Yun Zhi and said, "I just bought this when I passed by West Street. Try it. It's from the one you like."

Yun Zhi took the cake and took a bite. The sweet fragrance spread across her tongue, and her eyes felt slightly warm. She remembered how Xie Heng had always secretly brought her osmanthus cakes back in the capital. Back then, her mind was so consumed with the Yun family's grievances that she couldn't even taste the sweetness. But now, this sweetness was wrapped in a sense of security and a cherished warmth, and she couldn't help but smile.

The days passed by in this slow, steady stream. In the spring, they would go to the mountains together to gather herbs. Xie Heng would hold her hand, avoiding the slippery moss. In the summer evenings, they would sit under the osmanthus tree, he reading medical books while she sewed clothes. The cicadas chirped in the evening breeze, and the silence was so quiet that they could hear each other's breathing. In the autumn, when the osmanthus flowers bloomed, she would pick some and brew a pot of osmanthus wine. When he returned from his medical practice, she would warm the pot and they would drink a couple of cups under the moonlight. They didn't talk much, but their understanding was evident in everything.

The most unforgettable thing was the winter night. Snow fell outside, a charcoal fire burned inside, and hot tea simmered on the stove. The aroma of the tea, mixed with the warmth of the charcoal, filled the entire room. Xie Heng sat at the table, sorting through prescriptions. Yun Zhi handed him a hand warmer and sat across from him, holding a book, occasionally looking up at him. His eyes were downcast, serious, his eyelashes casting a faint shadow under the lamplight, and the gentle lines of his profile reminded her of the time when he secretly gave her pregnancy-preserving medicine in the Imperial Medical Bureau.

"What are you thinking about?" Xie Heng looked up, met her gaze, and smiled as he pushed the hand warmer back in front of her. "Your hands are always cold, warm them up."

"I'm thinking, it would be nice if it could always be like this." Yun Zhi said softly, her fingers stroking the patterns on the hand warmer. "No disputes, no hatred, just us, and this little courtyard, this tea, and this snow."

Xie Heng's eyes softened. He stood up, walked over to her, and patted her shoulder gently: "It will always be like this. I will protect you, this small courtyard, and our current life. I will never let you suffer any grievances again."

Yun Zhi looked up at him, her eyes twinkling, and nodded. Outside the window, the snow was falling harder and harder, covering the osmanthus tree like a layer of white gauze. Inside, the tea was still brewing, its gurgling sound accompanied by the crackling of the charcoal fire, making it so warm that one didn't want to leave.

But at that moment, the scene suddenly shook. The warmth of the hand warmer vanished, the crackling of the charcoal fire died down, and Xie Heng before him gradually blurred—replacing him was the plain-clothed figure on the palace wall, the resolute arc of her backward leap, and Xiao Jin's heartbreaking roar.

It turns out that this spring day in the south of the Yangtze River, this hot tea on a winter night, and this peaceful courtyard are all just an illusion.

This was the dream Xie Heng had woven over and over again during countless sleepless nights after Yun Zhi's death. He wished so much that he could have taken her away earlier in the capital that year, protected her from Shen Qingyue's schemes and Xiao Jin's harm, and let her truly live such a peaceful and warm life, and let the light in her eyes never go out.

But dreams are just dreams after all.

He opened his eyes. A chilly wind blew through the northern frontier outside. A single lamp lit the tent. A medicine box sat beside him, still filled with herbs he'd used to treat the herders' injuries during the day. He reached out and touched the celadon medicine bottle in his arms. The osmanthus flowers on the bottle were still there, but they no longer reflected the girl who had smiled and handed him the mint pills.

"Zhi'er," he whispered to the empty tent, his voice filled with unwavering regret, "I dreamed of Jiangnan for you. If there's an afterlife, let's go see the apricot blossoms again and make hot tea again, okay?"

The wind blew in through the cracks in the tent, causing the lamplight to flicker, a silent response, yet also a reminder that dreams are fleeting, ultimately fleeting. In reality, only endless longing and a wound that would never heal accompanied him through every spring and autumn.