Chapter 55 -

Chapter 55: Chapter

The curtain fell shut as Grandmaster Zhang and A-Cheng left the room. Outside, A-Cheng handed the basket of herbs to his mother, who put a pot on the fire to start cooking the medicine.

Inside, Zhengyu lay still on the bed, trapped for two hours by the silver needles in his legs.

Once the footsteps faded, Yimei dropped her worried face. She sat down on a stool beside him, smiling calmly.

Zhengyu glared at her, his jaw tight from the pain. "Where did you find this doctor? Someone this skilled doesn’t just live in a hidden village."

"I did my research before we came here," Yimei said smoothly. "Grandmaster Zhang used to be a famous doctor in the capital. He left because he hated arrogant nobles. That’s why we are acting like poor peasants."

Zhengyu narrowed his eyes. "That was a huge risk. If he finds out who we are, he will throw us out."

"It worked," Yimei chuckled, leaning closer. "His needles are fixing your legs. In one month, you will walk again."

Zhengyu stayed silent, hating that she was right.

Yimei tapped the bed frame, her eyes flashing. "So remember this, Young Master. When your legs heal, you owe me a massive debt. And I will collect every bit of it."

Zhengyu’s jaw tightened, his eyes burning as he glared at her. "Debt?" he scoffed. "You staged an attack, dragged me into a frozen wasteland, and forced me into this embarrassing act. If anything, you are just paying for the trouble you caused."

"Trouble?" Yimei laughed softly, completely unbothered by his anger. "If I didn’t bring you here, your legs would be completely dead by spring. You would be helpless against all your enemies in the Bai Family. I saved your life and your future, Zhengyu. Being angry won’t change that."

Zhengyu closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to control the pain in his legs. When he opened them, his gaze was icy.

"What do you want, Yimei?" he asked in a low whisper. "You didn’t do all this just to be nice. What is your true price?"

Yimei stopped smiling and looked straight into his eyes.

"When your legs are healed and we go back," she said softly.

"I want us to deal with our enemies," Yimei said, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. "I will help you take down the Bai family. But in return, you will help me destroy the person who brought down my tea house."

Zhengyu didn’t answer right away. He simply shifted his eyes toward her, his face completely unreadable. A cold, dismissive hum escaped his nose.

Yimei didn’t care about his cold snub. She leaned in closer, her smile growing sharp. "For us to succeed, your legs have to get fixed. Right now, as a cripple, you are nothing but useless. To be a giant obstacle in Madame Chen and your uncle’s way you have to stand again. How can I get my revenge if my husband can’t even stand?"

Zhengyu’s jaw tightened slightly at her blunt words. He turned his face away toward the wall, scoffing quietly. He hated her sharp mouth, but he knew she was right. Without his legs, his uncle and Madame Chen had already won.

"Fix the legs first," Zhengyu said curtly, not even bothering to look at her. "Then talk."

"A deal then, husband," Yimei murmured softly.

Footsteps echoed outside the room.

In a single second, Yimei wiped the cold look off her face. She pulled out a clean cloth, carefully dabbing the sweat from Zhengyu’s forehead with a worried expression just as Grandmaster Zhang pushed the curtain aside, holding a steaming bowl of dark medicine.

"Drink this while it’s hot," the old doctor said gruffly, setting the bowl down.

Yimei took the bowl with gentle, obedient hands and bowed her head. "Thank you, Grandmaster."

Zhengyu ignored them both, closing his eyes in silent irritation as Yimei blew on the hot, bitter soup to feed him.

Zhengyu opened his eyes just enough to glare at the spoon Yimei blew on and pressed against his lips. With a deep scowl, he took a small sip.

The moment the dark brew hit his tongue, his face twisted in utter disgust. He spat it straight back out into his handkerchief.

"Get that vile sludge away from me," Zhengyu rasped, turning his head sharply toward the wall. He hated bitter medicine above all else, and there was no way he was swallowing another drop.

Yimei’s eyes narrowed, her delicate hands tightening around the wooden spoon. "Drink it," she whispered through gritted teeth, keeping her voice low so Grandmaster Zhang wouldn’t hear. "It’s for your legs."

Zhengyu didn’t even look at her. He set his jaw tight, his posture stiff, shutting his eyes with a cold, absolute refusal.

Yimei stared at his stubborn face and let out a long, silent sigh. She recognized that look. He wasn’t going to budge, no matter how much she threatened or coaxed him.

Sensing a losing battle, she set the steaming bowl down on the bedside stool and stood up. She smoothed her plain dress, turned on her heel, and walked out of the room to find Old Madame Zhang in the kitchen.

"Madame Zhang," Yimei asked softly, putting on a gentle, helpless expression as she approached the older woman. "Do you happen to have any honey or sweet preserves in the house? My husband is... exceedingly stubborn about bitter tonics."

Old Madame Zhang let out a warm, hearty laugh, wiping her hands on her apron as her shoulders shook with amusement.

"Ah, men!" the old woman chuckled, shaking her head. "No matter how big or tough they act, they all turn into spoiled little boys the moment a bitter medicine bowl touches their lips."

Yimei let out a soft, helpless laugh of her own. "He really is impossible when it comes to tonics, Madame Zhang."

"Don’t you worry, my dear," Madame Zhang said, turning toward a high wooden cupboard in the corner of the kitchen. She reached up and pulled down a small, heavy clay jar sealed with red cloth. "I keep a bit of wild mountain honey hidden away just for my own old man when he gets stubborn about his own brews."

She scooped a generous spoonful of thick, golden honey into a small wooden dish and handed it to Yimei with a kind smile.

"Here," Madame Zhang said. "Mix a little into his bowl, or let him lick it off the spoon right after he swallows. That ought to quiet his whining."

"Thank you so much, Madame Zhang," Yimei bowed gratefully, taking the dish with gentle hands. "You are a lifesaver."

Yimei turned back toward the dark hallway, her soft, sweet expression vanishing the second her back was turned to the kitchen. Carrying the small dish of honey, she walked back into the treatment room where Zhengyu was still lying motionless, his face turned toward the wall in total silence.

She stepped over to the stool, picked up the bowl of medicine, and stirred a dollop of honey straight into the dark, bitter liquid before taking a small spoonful of pure honey onto the wooden spoon.

"Alright, my mighty prince," Yimei whispered, her voice laced with sharp, playful sarcasm as she leaned over him. "I got you your sweet honey. Open your mouth before I force it down your throat myself."