The next day.
As dawn broke, the light filtering through the windowpanes painted delicate golden spots on the blue brick floor.
The room was filled with the fragrance of herbs, mixed with the refreshing scent of agarwood. Shen Jintang sat upright by the bed, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the dark patterns on her cuffs.
Gu Zhixing stood beside her, his palm against the back of her neck, his thumb gently brushing against her taut shoulder line.
He whispered, "I'm here."
The old doctor washed his hands and took out a set of silver needles from the medicine box. The needle tips were as fine as hair and gleamed with a cold light in the morning light.
Shangguan Qingchen stood by the window, his knuckles resting on the folding fan, his gaze fixed on Shen Jintang, his expression unreadable.
"Miss Chen, when the acupuncture is administered later, the blood stasis in your brain will disperse, and it will be a little painful." The doctor's voice was gentle, but it did not allow for refusal. "You will need to sit still and bear with it."
Shen Jintang nodded, but her fingertips secretly clenched the hem of her clothes.
Gu Zhixing noticed her tension and gently pressed her nape with his fingertips, offering silent comfort.
The silver needles were dipped in the medicinal liquid. The old doctor's technique was extremely steady. The first needle landed on the Fengchi acupoint on the back of her neck. Shen Jintang's breathing was slightly sluggish, but she did not move at all.
The second and third needles were inserted into Baihui and Taiyang respectively, and the faint sound of the needles entering the flesh could be clearly heard in the quiet room.
Gu Zhixing stared at the few silver needles, his Adam's apple bobbing, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.
Shangguan Qingchen's folding fan had closed at some point, the fan ribs pressed against his palm with such force that it almost broke.
When the needle reached the seventh point, Shen Jintang's forehead was covered in fine sweat, and her lips turned slightly pale.
Gu Zhixing raised his hand, wiped the dampness from her temple with his fingertips, and whispered, "Pinch me if it hurts."
She didn't say anything, but gently scratched his palm as a silent response.
As the last needle was inserted, she let out a muffled groan, her fingertips gripping Gu Zhixing's wrist tightly, her nails almost digging into his flesh.
He let her pinch him, and with his other hand he held her shoulder, steadying her slightly trembling body.
"The blood stasis has dissipated; wait a moment longer." The old doctor stopped and took two steps back.
The room was so quiet that only the sound of breathing could be heard.
Shen Jintang closed her eyes, her long eyelashes casting a faint shadow on her pale face. Beads of sweat slid down her cheeks and condensed into a watery trail on her chin.
Gu Zhixing raised his hand to wipe it away for her, his fingertips warm, his movements extremely gentle, as if afraid of breaking her.
Fifteen minutes later, the doctor stepped forward to remove the needles.
The moment the silver needle left her body, Shen Jintang let out a long sigh of relief, leaned forward slightly, and rested her forehead on Gu Zhixing's shoulder.
He naturally put his arm around her, his palm against her back, and could clearly feel her breathing gradually calming down.
"Alright." The old doctor put away the silver needles, his tone more relaxed. "Now we can remove the gauze."
Gu Zhixing helped her sit up straight, his knuckles brushing against her slightly cool cheek: "The first person you see must be me."
Shen Jintang chuckled, her voice slightly hoarse: "Then you'd better stand closer."
The layers of gauze were peeled away one by one, and the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
As the last layer of cotton yarn was removed, Shen Jintang's eyelashes trembled slightly, and she slowly opened her eyes—a blinding light flooded her vision. She subconsciously closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the blurry patches of color gradually coalesced into clear outlines.
Gu Zhixing's face was inches away, his brows slightly furrowed, and the tension in his eyes had not yet faded, but the moment their eyes met, they suddenly lit up.
“…It’s so ugly.” She chuckled hoarsely, raising her fingertip to touch the stubble on his chin.
Gu Zhixing laughed and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones.
She looked up from his shoulder, past him, and met the tall, slender figure by the window—Shangguan Qingchen stood there quietly, dressed in white, his features exquisite, but the moment their eyes met, his folding fan snapped open, obscuring half his face. The ink-wash landscape on the fan made his fingers appear even more like jade.
"Thank you," she said softly.
He tilted the fan slightly, his eyes deep, his voice low and indifferent: "It's been three years, and you've become quite polite."
Outside the window, the spring sunshine was bright, and apricot blossoms fell softly on the steps.
The old doctor packed up his medicine box, nodded slightly to the group, and silently withdrew.
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Shangguan Qingchen closed his folding fan, his gaze falling on Gu Zhixing, his tone calm yet unquestionable: "Young Master Gu, may I leave for a moment? I have something to discuss with Xie Zhaoran alone."
He deliberately emphasized the three characters "Xie Zhaoran," as if to remind someone of something.
Gu Zhixing's eyes darkened, but before he could speak, Xie Zhaoran had already grabbed his wrist and gently pressed her fingertips against his palm.
"We're all on the same side, so let's just say it."
She looked up at Shangguan Qingchen, her tone calm.
Shangguan Qingchen's expression suddenly turned cold, and the force with which he gripped the fan ribs almost turned white.
"Xie Zhaoran," he said in a low voice, enunciating each word clearly, "Are you crazy?"
Shen Jintang chuckled softly, her fingertips still resting on Gu Zhixing's wrist.
“Shangguan, I’m not crazy,” she looked up, her eyes clear as snow. “I’m perfectly sober.”
"Are you sober?" Shangguan Qingchen suddenly sneered, slamming his folding fan on the table with a "smack," startling the teacup.
He had never been so out of control in his life, and now he didn't even bother to maintain his pretense. His eyes were sharp as knives. "Who is Gu Zhixing? A member of the Gu family! Who wiped out your entire Xie family? Also a member of the Gu family! He shares the same blood as the Crown Prince. When did you—" His voice suddenly turned cold, "become such a brainless person?"
The air inside seemed to freeze.
Gu Zhixing's knuckles tightened, and a dark undercurrent surged in his eyes, but he stubbornly suppressed his movement.
Shen Jintang's hand was still on his wrist, the pressure was not heavy, but it was like an invisible shackle, pinning him to the spot.
"Shangguan Qingchen." She slowly stood up, the blindfold already removed, and her clear eyes stared directly at him, causing him to be momentarily dazed. "You're meddling a bit too much."
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