Wang Fufeng should have been a lively and active young man, but after he took the position of family head, he created a chasm between himself and other young men. Although he attracted the attention of young girls with his noble appearance, no one dared to get close to him.
Wang Fufeng didn't care, calmly sipping his tea and feeling the bland liquid slide into his stomach.
Yes, what he put in his teacup wasn't even tea, but plain water, because Dr. Wen had said that people who were taking medicine and resting should avoid drinking tea, for fear that it would neutralize the effects of the medicine.
When Chang Yan sat down, his mouth had lost all taste. "Why don't you go find some young girls to admire the flowers and talk about poetry and songs?"
Chang Yan shook his head in response, while using his wide sleeves to conceal himself as he poured the entire packet of powder into the teapot.
A strong ginseng aroma wafted to my nose. It was ginseng that Wen Zhiyun had carefully selected from fifty-year-old plants, grinding some of it into powder, and then mixing it with powders of seven or eight other medicinal herbs, such as astragalus, atractylodes, and rhodiola. It was a highly nutritious and nourishing tea.
Just then, Wang Fufeng emptied his teacup, and Chang Yan thoughtfully poured him another bowl.
Turning back to look at Master Wang in the distance, both of them nodded slightly, revealing satisfied smiles.
Not long after, Wang Fufeng excused himself from feeling unwell and went to rest in the back room of the flower courtyard.
Not long after, a young lady from a prominent family got her dress dirty and had to go and change it.
At the same time, Wang Haoran was summoned away by a message from his aunt.
The Zhou family's daughter was led by a maid to the most secluded side room.
The show is about to begin.
About fifteen minutes later, a maid's scream came from the side room—"Ah..."
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