Chapter 65 -

Chapter 65: Chapter

Grandmaster Zhang placed his teacup down with a quiet clack. He didn’t say a word, but his jaw was clenched tight. He slowly pushed himself up from the low table and walked out of the dining room, his heavy footsteps fading down the dark hallway as he retreated into his private quarters.

Madame Zhang reached across the wooden table and gently patted Yimei’s hand, offering her a soft, comforting smile.

"Don’t mind him, A-Yue," Madame Zhang said gently. "He always gets grumpy when someone tries to teach him a lesson or challenge his ways."

A-Cheng set his bowl down and let out a soft sigh, looking at the empty doorway where his father had just disappeared.

"Father didn’t always hate nobles, Sister A-Yue," A-Cheng explained quietly, leaning in closer so his voice wouldn’t carry down the hall. "Thirty years ago, he was one of the most promising imperial physicians in the royal palace. But everything changed during the winter of the great court purge."

Zhengyu’s eyes flicked over to A-Cheng, his body tensing slightly as he listened.

"He was summoned to the residence of Minister Gu," A-Cheng continued, his tone turning dark. "Minister Gu was dying from a severe poison, and he held a blade to my father’s throat. He threatened to slaughter our entire family—including my mother—if Father failed to cure him."

Madame Zhang lowered her eyes, her hands tightening around her napkin at the painful memory.

"My father worked for three days straight without sleep and managed to save Minister Gu’s life," A-Cheng said, shaking his head bitterly. "But as soon as Minister Gu recovered, he used his power to frame his rivals, resulting in the brutal execution of hundreds of innocent people. His corruption destroyed countless families. My father blamed himself completely. He felt that by saving one vile man, he had signed the death warrants of hundreds. He couldn’t stomach the guilt, so he resigned from the palace and fled the capital with my mother, swearing never to serve high status or noble blood again."

Yimei sat quietly, listening to every detail as the piece of history fell into place. Beside her, Zhengyu remained silent, his gaze fixed on his lap as a heavy weight settled over his chest.

After dinner, Yimei carried a small tray with a fresh cup of warm herbal tea down the quiet hallway. She stopped in front of Grandmaster Zhang’s study and knocked softly twice on the wooden door frame.

"Come in," his raspy voice called out from inside.

Yimei pushed the heavy wooden door open. The room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of a single oil lamp. Grandmaster Zhang sat at his low desk, unrolling an ancient medical scroll, though his eyes looked distant and troubled.

Yimei stepped inside, set the wooden tray down on the side of his desk, and bowed her head respectfully.

"Grandmaster," she said softly, breaking the heavy silence. "I brought you some warm tea."

The old man didn’t touch the cup right away. He slowly rolled the parchment shut, his sharp, tired eyes looking up to fix on Yimei’s calm face.

"You spoke with purpose at the dinner table tonight, Xiao Yue," Grandmaster Zhang said, his tone flat, though the usual edge in his voice was gone. "A simple village woman does not recite poetry about the weight of human life so easily. What was it you truly came here to say to me?"

Yimei did not shrink back. She met his gaze directly, her posture straight and steady.

"I came to tell you that a physician’s hands only hold the power to heal, Grandmaster," Yimei said, her voice smooth and clear. "They do not hold the power to control what a man chooses to do with the life you give back to him."

Grandmaster Zhang’s thick eyebrows pulled together, his hands tightening around the edge of his desk.

"Thirty years ago, you chose to save a life under a blade," Yimei continued gently, taking a step closer. "Minister Gu chose evil because that was who he was, not because you healed him. If a doctor stops saving lives out of fear of what those lives might become, then the evil man has already won."

She looked down at the old doctor, her dark eyes filled with deep, sincere respect.

"You saved my husband, knowing nothing of who we truly are," Yimei said softly. "You gave him a second chance at life. Do not let the shadow of a dead monster rob you of the noble truth of what you do every day."

Grandmaster Zhang sat frozen in his seat. For the first time since Yimei had met him, the old physician’s stubborn shoulders slowly sank.

He looked down at the steaming teacup on his desk, his chest rising and falling in a deep, shaky breath as her words struck the rawest part of his heart.

Later that night, Yimei brewed Zhengyu’s herbal medicine in the kitchen. She poured the dark, steaming liquid into a clay bowl, placed it on a tray, and walked quietly back down the hallway to their room.

The fire in the hearth was crackling softly, casting a warm orange light across the walls. Zhengyu was sitting on the edge of the bamboo bed, his crutches resting against the wall beside him.

Yimei walked in without saying a word. Her eyes were fixed on the bowl in her hands, her mind clearly miles away as she processed everything A-Cheng and Madame Zhang had revealed earlier.

She sat down beside him on the bed and handed him the warm bowl.

Zhengyu took the bowl, but he didn’t drink right away. He stared at her quiet face, noticing the usual sharp, calculating look in her eyes had been replaced by a heavy, distant stillness.

He cleared his throat, breaking the long silence between them.

"What you said at dinner earlier..." Zhengyu muttered, looking down at the dark herbal tea in his hands. "It wasn’t stupid."

Yimei blinked, suddenly pulled out of her thoughts. She turned her head toward him, tilting it slightly to the side as a tiny, amused smile touched the corner of her lips.

"Are you trying to compliment me, Young Master?" she asked softly.

Zhengyu’s face instantly flushed a faint pink. He quickly looked away, taking a sharp sip of the bitter medicine to cover his awkwardness.

"I’m just saying," he grumbled under his breath, his ears turning red in the firelight. "You usually say ridiculous things just to annoy me. But tonight... you didn’t."

Yimei watched his flustered reaction, her small smile widening into a quiet, warm grin.

"Don’t worry," she whispered teasingly, leaning a little closer to his shoulder. "I’ll make sure to annoy you twice as much tomorrow on the road."

Zhengyu choked slightly on his tea, glaring at her sideways, but the heavy tension that had hung over both of them all night finally melted away.