The two of them landed in the courtyard, bumping right into Chao An as she was carrying a bowl of medicine inside, giving her quite a start.
Once she saw who it was, she said in pleasant surprise, “Immortal, what are you doing here?”
Before Song Yao could respond, someone stumbled out of the eastern side room. Panic-stricken, they nearly tripped over the threshold and yelled across the courtyard at the top of their lungs, “Miss Chao An! Come quickly! Uncle Chen the Third looks like he's not going to make it!”
The joy on Chao An's face vanished instantly. Forgetting all about hosting Song Yao, she spun around and ran toward the room. “I'm coming!”
Song Yao stepped forward to follow.
Xie Zhou followed silently behind her.
As soon as the door was pushed open, a thick, medicinal stench rushed out, mingled with a faint odor of decay that made them knit their brows.
The room was dimly lit. A few oil lamps flickered, illuminating three people lying askew. Their faces were an ashen gray, and the veins on their necks bulged in a dark, eerie shade of black.
The old man in the far corner was rolling his eyes back, a rattling gasp escaping his throat. His entire body convulsed uncontrollably, and his fingers clawed at the straw mat so hard that his knuckles turned white. He was clearly taking in more shallow breaths than deep ones; he wouldn't last much longer.
Chao An quickly knelt by his side, propping up his shoulders. She held the bowl and tried to pour the medicine down his throat. “Uncle Chen, open your mouth. This is the painkiller my sister brewed. Let's dull the pain first...”
But the old man flailed his arms as if he had lost control. Chao An couldn't dodge in time. The bowl wobbled violently, spilling most of the scalding-hot medicine onto her clothes.
She didn't even have time to tend to the spill, hurriedly steadying the bowl again. With a sob in her voice, she pleaded anxiously, “Uncle Chen, you have to drink this...”
A hand reached out from the side, holding a lustrous, glowing pill. It deftly slipped the pill into the old man's mouth, then gave his jaw a gentle upward nudge, sending the pill smoothly down his throat.
Chao An froze. She turned to meet the youth's calm eyes and noticed the cinnabar-like mole beneath them. She heard her cool, gentle voice say, “Don't worry.”
While Chao An stared in a daze, Uncle Chen, whom she was still supporting, suddenly began to twist and writhe with twice the intensity.
He even did a sudden kip-up, sat straight up, and let out a shrill laugh before suddenly dashing around the room at high speed.
This happened so suddenly that everyone in the room stood frozen in shock.
It wasn't until Uncle Chen stepped right over one of the other patients that everyone finally snapped out of it. “Uncle Chen!!”
“Uncle Chen, what's wrong with you?!”
The room instantly descended into chaos. Several villagers frantically tried to grab him, but they couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes.
Xie Zhou flicked his hand, sending a talisman flying to pin Uncle Chen firmly back down to the floor.
Song Yao explained calmly, “Side effects. It's perfectly normal.”
Chao An: “...”
If it weren't for the fact that her own sister had already gone wild after taking this Immortal's pill, she would have found this hard to accept.
Song Yao handed her another porcelain bottle. “This will neutralize the poison. Give them one pill each.”
Snapping back to reality, Chao An cradled the bottle of pills, her hands trembling as she repeatedly said, “Thank you, Immortal! Thank you, Immortal...”
Then she hurriedly turned around to feed the pills to the other patients.
Considering that this new batch of Qi-Replenishing Pills had not yet been tested on ordinary people, and fearing something might go wrong, Song Yao decided to wait until the medicine took effect before leaving.
With people bustling in and out of the room, there was nowhere for her to settle down. She simply walked out, leaped onto the roof, swept her robes aside, and sat down to rest.
Looking down, she saw that Xie Zhou was still standing in the courtyard. Bathed in the melting moonlight, he was enveloped in a faint glow, looking like a jade sculpture.
Song Yao patted the roof tiles beside her. “Aren't you going to sit, Fourth Senior Brother?”
Xie Zhou glanced at her. With a light tap of his toes, his figure blurred, and he landed on the roof.
He didn't sit, but merely stood by her side, his gaze drifting toward the streets and alleys of Shao City shrouded in the night. His expression was as faint as if masked by a layer of mist, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
She had spent the last few days refining pills like her life depended on it. Now that she finally had a moment of peace, she was incredibly sleepy.
Song Yao yawned twice in a row, her eyes watering slightly. She reached into her spatial pouch, rummaged around, and pulled out a palm-sized celadon flask. “Want a drink, Fourth Senior Brother?”
Xie Zhou cast a sidelong glance and replied flatly, “No need.”
Song Yao didn't press him. She popped the stopper and took a sip, the sweet fragrance of the wine drifting into the night wind.
But before she could take a second sip, a hand reached over her head, snatched the flask away, and tucked it away.
Xie Zhou: “You are in poor health and not yet sixteen. Drink less.”
Song Yao: “...”
Was that "drinking less"?
She had barely even tasted it!
Besides, this body of hers was already sixteen.
Still...
She couldn't help but steal a glance at Xie Zhou.
Did Xie Zhou actually know she was Song Yao?
And how did Zhu Zhao figure it out?
She didn't dare to ask, fearing that asking would only expose her identity. She could only continue to play dumb.
The two of them stayed in quiet silence for a while, while in the courtyard below, noisy, crazed patients would run out from time to time.
Before long, Xie Zhou suddenly felt a weight against his leg.
He looked down.
Song Yao was clutching a book filled with crookedly written pill formulas. She had slumped over, leaning against his leg with half her cheek pressed against the hem of his robe. Her breathing was light and even; she had already fallen fast asleep.
Her long eyelashes drooped, casting a small, faint shadow beneath her eyes. Under the moonlight, the mole beneath her eye looked exceptionally vivid.
Closing her eyes so peacefully, she lost some of her usual detachment and aloofness, showing a rare, genuine sweetness.
It was rare that she was still willing to draw close to him.
It was rare that she actually had the courage to sleep right next to him.
Xie Zhou's fingertips curled slightly. He held his hand over the crown of her head for a long moment before finally pulling it back.
He didn't move, remaining in his standing position to let her lean on him. His gaze drifted back to the deep night in the distance, the habitual coldness surrounding him silently thawing a fraction.
...
This sleep lasted the entire night.
When Song Yao woke up in bed, her hand was still clutching a piece of fabric. Bleary-eyed, she followed the fabric upward, only to meet the cool, aloof gaze of its owner.
Xie Zhou.
She snapped awake instantly, sensing that something was off.
Wasn't she taking notes on the roof? How did she end up in bed?
And why was Xie Zhou right by her bedside?
Before she could ask, Xie Zhou spoke first. “You got drunk and held onto me, refusing to let go.”
“?”
She couldn't have gotten drunk even if she drank ten jars of that kind of wine, let alone a single sip.
Song Yao retorted instinctively, “You're full of sh—”
But meeting Xie Zhou's cool gaze, she barely managed to stop herself, swallowing the vulgar word and changing her tune. “How is that possible?”
Xie Zhou's gaze shifted, landing on the hem of his robe that she was still gripping, and his lips curved up in a rare, subtle smile.
Song Yao followed his gaze, quickly let go, and cleared her throat before turning the tables on him. “Why didn't you just pry my hand off?”
Xie Zhou: “I couldn't.”
Song Yao: “...”
Was her grip really that strong?
She hadn't seen him in a while, and her Fourth Junior Brother's ability to talk nonsense had certainly improved. She wondered who he had learned it from.
The atmosphere was a bit awkward. Song Yao climbed out of bed, attempting to make her escape, but the moment her feet touched the floor, Xie Zhou grabbed her sash. “Someone brought some porridge earlier. It's on the table. Eat it before you go out.”
Song Yao: “Oh.”
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