Holding the wolf-hair brush in hand, he concentrated for a moment and began to write.
Dear Qingyue:
Everything is fine in the army, please don't worry too much.
Although it is cold on the border, morale is high.
The soldiers in the army are loyal and brave, and will definitely ensure the peace and stability of the country.
Although the war is urgent, the situation is controllable. I have learned that the enemy's food supply is weak. I will act according to the strategy and hope to return to Beijing as soon as possible.
Shen Yuhan paused briefly at this point, a hint of tenderness in his eyes, and continued writing:
Qingyue, although you have been carrying a heavy reputation since you came to the Marquis' Mansion, you are a clean and honest person with extraordinary intelligence.
If I haven't returned yet, you should take good care of yourself and don't worry too much about me.
Use Anhun less, as it is harmful to your body. Do not bother Fang Chiyue to make it again.
I will return to the capital within half a year.
Having written this far, he slowed down his writing style. Although the words were calm and peaceful, they revealed his deep longing for her.
He felt a dull pain in his heart when he thought of her haggard appearance.
Shen Yuhan put down his pen, rolled up the letter, and handed it to the messenger, instructing him, "This letter must be delivered to the capital as quickly as possible by carrier pigeon."
The soldier took the order, turned around and left, his figure quickly disappearing in the wind and sand.
Shen Yuhan looked at the yellow sand desert in the distance, feeling an indescribable heaviness in his heart.
I know how dangerous this mission is, and I also understand Fang Qingyue's worries.
But at this moment he could only choose to bury his longing deep in his heart and continue to shoulder the responsibility of defending his country.
The warmth in his heart and the burden on his shoulders intertwined into an impenetrable net that surrounded him tightly.
It was early morning in the capital, the autumn sun had just risen, and a thin mist covered the earth.
Since Fang Qingyue drank the soul-soothing soup that night, she has been able to fall asleep occasionally.
But in the end he became restless and gradually lost weight.
Every day she always wakes up early and sits by the window.
Gazing into the distance, he prayed in his heart that Shen Yuhan would return safely.
The maple leaves in the yard gradually turned yellow, and the ground was covered with red maple leaves, as if reflecting her inner sorrow.
"Sister, the weather is nice today, why don't you go out for a walk."
Fang Chiyue walked in with a bowl of porridge, with a hint of worry in her tone.
Fang Qingyue shook her head gently, her voice calm: "Chiyue, I'm not very energetic, I'd better rest for a while."
Her gaze fell on the depths of the distant courtyard, where a few sparrows were picking up rice grains among the fallen leaves.
The peaceful scene could not dispel the worries in her heart.
Just then, a burst of brisk footsteps came from the outer courtyard.
A servant came hurriedly and stood at the door, panting.
Holding a letter in her hand, her face was filled with excitement that could not be concealed: "Sister, the Marquis's letter has arrived!"
"A letter from home?" Fang Qingyue suddenly looked up, and a hint of disbelief suddenly appeared on her originally haggard face.
She reached out her hand almost subconsciously, and took the letter with trembling hands.
The familiar handwriting on the envelope carried an unspoken warmth.
It seemed as if it reached her heart through this thin piece of letter paper.
"Sister, please open it and take a look!" Fang Chiyue urged anxiously.
Fang Qingyue's fingers trembled slightly, and she slowly opened the envelope and unfolded the silk.
As the familiar handwriting in the letter came into view, it seemed as if Shen Yuhan's figure was right in front of her.
His handwriting was still strong and powerful, with a firm tone, as if he was speaking to her in person.
She read every word of the letter carefully, her lips moving softly: "Everything is fine in the army, please don't worry... I will return to the capital within six months..."
When she read these words, her heart suddenly relaxed and her eyes became slightly moist.
She suppressed her excitement, folded the letter carefully and placed it against her heart.
"Chi Yue, the Marquis is safe." Her voice was a little hoarse, but with a hint of relaxed smile.
This letter from home seemed to sweep away the heavy haze in her heart.
Fang Chiyue heard this and a relieved smile appeared on her face: "That's good, sister, don't worry, the Marquis will definitely return safely."
Fang Qingyue nodded slightly, took a deep breath, and felt that the worries in her heart seemed to dissipate a little.
The sunlight in late autumn is weak and the weather is gradually getting colder.
Fang Qingyue stood in the lobby of the clinic, with a hint of fatigue between her brows.
Since the arrival of Shen Yuhan's letter from home, her mood has calmed down a little.
But faced with the expansion of the clinic, she felt unprecedented pressure.
The clinic's branch is being planned, and her biggest headache is how to recruit suitable doctors.
In the past few days, she has started recruiting doctors.
We hope to select some talented and knowledgeable doctors to serve as the chief doctors of the new branch.
However, the reality was far from as smooth as she had imagined.
Fang Qingyue stood in the middle of the clinic's hall, walking slowly.
He looked through the window lattice at the people in the yard who were queuing up to take the exam.
She sighed softly, her fingers unconsciously stroking her cuffs.
Among this group of applicants, some are traveling doctors who boast of their excellent medical skills.
Some are scholars who read a few medical books in school and think they can cure all diseases.
However, after her strict selection, almost no one can really pass.
"Sister, the next candidate is ready."
Fang Qingyue nodded, adjusted her mood a little, and prepared to continue the interview.
She always held a glimmer of hope in her heart that perhaps the next applicant would be someone with real talent and knowledge.
A man in his thirties came in, dressed in a Confucian robe.
He was holding a thick medical book in his hands, with a confident smile on his face, and was obviously very proud of his own talent.
The man bowed and said, "Miss Fang, my name is Li Xuecheng. I have long heard of your excellent medical skills."
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