Next morning, Wu Han wasn’t ho.
For days, Wu Haoyu had lived a life that felt brighter than before. She hated to admit it, but seeing him daily had stirred back a trace of joy she thought long gone.
Yet today, he wasn’t there.
"Young master went out this morning, Madam. He told to set his things on the table and... for you to drink the water."
The maid paused her sweeping and pointed toward the small pavilion at the pond’s center. On the table sat a single cup and a folded note.
Haoyu hurried over, her heart pounding. The note was short.
Drink this water and don’t co here anymore.
Her heart sank. His words from yesterday echoed sharply in her chest. Was he bored of her already? Had he discarded her as easily as that? She bit her lip until it hurt.
Still, she lifted the cup and drank.
A warmth surged through her body. Her pulse quickened, then steadied. Suddenly, the familiar pressure in her veins, the poison he had shackled her with, was gone.
"What...!?"
The realization left her trembling.
...
Within Azure Peak Town.
"Experience it yourself is always better than living through another’s mory."
A whisper on the wind.
The voice belonged to an old man strolling through the crowd, his long gray hair neatly combed, his sharp face softened only by age.
His eyes, clear as a blue sky, wandered as he listened to idle chatter.
"Have you heard? The young master of the Wu family has died! Now who will marry the Luo clan’s princess?"
A group of old won gossiped by the roadside. The words caught his attention.
"Maybe I will," Wu Han muttered under his breath, lips quirking.
From Wu Yaoshi’s mories he recalled Luo Lan, the Luo clan’s treasured jewel, the most talented woman the town had ever seen, raised in wealth and beauty.
By comparison, the Wu clan looked like beggars.
"You filthy old man! Who do you think you are!?"
The won recoiled at him with disgust. He realized too late that in this body; he was no longer a handso youth but a ragged stranger.
He dipped his head and scurried away, the won muttering about drunkards.
’What should I do... what should I do?’
Possibilities stretched before him like paths in a labyrinth. His thoughts raced until sothing caught his eye, a herb shop.
The place pulsed faintly with natural essence, invisible to most, but to his senses it shone like a beacon.
"Welco!"
The shopkeeper was a hunched lady, carefully dusting his shelves.
Her back ached in sharp peaks that seed to pull her posture forward, yet her face carried a calm, radiant smile.
A pair of small glasses perched lightly at the bridge of her nose, and her short hair, neatly trimd with precise edges, frad her features in quiet elegance.
Wu Han smiled. "I couldn’t resist. You’ve gathered quite the collection."
"Oh no, no. I am just a humble herbalist. May I ask your na?"
Judging by his current appearance, the shopkeeper assud they were of similar age. She even sensed a strange serenity from Wu Han.
"Sharp eyes. I’m a wandering doctor. The na’s John."
John, the alias he favored most.
No matter where he goes, there was always a John sowhere. It made blending in easy.
"Jon... Joh?" The shopkeeper stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables.
Wu Han chuckled. "If it’s difficult, call Zhong instead. I co from distant lands."
The lie rolled off his tongue with practiced ease.
He had forgotten how alien words sounded to those who had never heard them before, like trying to pronounce an eldritch incantation.
Fun fact: those skilled at singing often excelled at chanting such magic.
By his own account, he had been an excellent singer.
"Oh, Master Zhong," the shopkeeper said eagerly. "So, you’ve co all this way to our small town... surely, it’s because you’ve heard of the reward from curing The Luo mistress’s illness?"
"Ho..." Zhong blinked.
From his own mory, and even from Wu Yaoshi’s, there had never been any ntion of a Luo mistress being ill.
This was new. Interesting.
Everyone feared the Luo clan, and they guarded their secrets tightly.
Perhaps this was his way in.
"I’ve heard a rumor," Zhong said smoothly, "but can you elaborate?"
"Of course. But let us step inside first. The Luo family has kept this matter quiet, sharing it only with those in the dical trade."
The shopkeeper guided him through the doorway and soon placed a steaming cup of tea before him.
Zhong took a sip and let out a low hum. "Good tea. You’ve blended it with sothing, haven’t you? Fire-elent herb, I’d guess. Spicy undertone."
His tongue tingled. Beneath the sweetness was a heat that lingered, a balanced craft that spoke of experience.
Unlike doctors who treated wounds, or alchemists who refined pills, herbalists were masters of raw plants and their direct effects.
The old lady’s eyes lit with surprise. "You have a sharp palate, Master Zhong. Yes, fla viper grass, mixed with northern tea leaves. One of my special recipes."
Zhong allowed himself a small smile. "Where I co from, there is no illness I cannot cure."
(Though in truth, his ’cure’ was often to kill the patient before the sickness spread.)
"Good, good." The shopkeeper’s respect deepened. "Perhaps with your help, Luo Lan will finally be free to live her own life."
"Luo Lan..."
The na stirred sothing. Zhong rembered her from Yaoshi’s mory.
The strongest of their generation, a girl both dazzling and untouchable.
She had never seed frail, never once shown weakness in battle, training, or even idle conversation.
Always perfect.
’A secret like this... is always valuable.’
"Seems you know of her," Zhong said, his smile faint.
"Not her personally," the shopkeeper replied.
"But her clan often cos here. They scour every shop and clinic, searching for herbs that might ease her condition. Even the tea you tasted just now is part of my trials for sothing that could help that poor girl."
There was pity in her voice.
She had watched her grow up from afar, a star who brought pride to the town.
To know that such brilliance hid a cruel fate, it made her heart ache.
"What is her illness? And how long has she suffered from it?"
The mature woman’s face tightened.
"Extre Yin physique. And... to my knowledge, she has borne it since birth."
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