Bai Qingqing went to see Ning Yan. He was sitting with his head lowered, staring at sothing, the dicine bowl by his side untouched.
She walked over and touched the rim of the bowl. Thankfully, it was still warm. “Why haven’t you taken your dicine? Brother Wen said that even though your wound is healing, you still need to be careful. Especially the decoctions—you can’t skip them. Travel is exhausting, and if you don’t take proper care, it could leave lasting damage.”
Ning Yan didn’t look up. “I’m almost recovered. I’ve no patience left for this bitter ss.”
Bai Qingqing brought the bowl to his side and set down a jar of candied fruits—sothing she’d bought earlier to pass the ti on the road.
“Good dicine tastes bitter, but even the worst of it is better than a wound that takes forever to heal, isn’t it? Drink it, and I’ll give you a candied fruit afterward to take away the bitterness.”
“That brat Wen Jiang did this on purpose. Every single dose he prescribes tastes like poison. He gives others mild stuff, but mine? Always the worst. I’m not drinking it—I won’t fall into his trap.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong. Wen Jiang was indeed capable of such petty vengeance. At this stage, Ning Yan’s wounds didn’t really require the decoction—Wen Jiang insisting on three servings a day was pure spite.
But Bai Qingqing didn’t see it that way. In her eyes, every bowl of dicine he drank brought his recovery a step closer.
Seeing he still refused to drink, sulking like a child, she lifted the bowl to her lips and took a sip, intending to lead by example and show him it wasn’t so bad. The mont the liquid touched her tongue, though, her face twisted involuntarily.
It was—unbearably bitter.
Far more acrid than any calming tonic she’d ever had. Her pretty face wrinkled into a frown like a wilted chrysanthemum. Just then, sothing soft touched her lips—startled, she opened her mouth. The sweetness of a candied fruit lted over her tongue, sweeping away the bitterness in an instant.
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Ning Yan withdrew his hand and took the dicine bowl from hers. “Are you stupid? You’ll drink anything without a second thought?”
Mouth still full of candied fruit, Bai Qingqing mumbled, “I just wanted to try it. If I could bear it, surely you could too… I didn’t expect it to be this bitter…”
Ning Yan let out a low chuckle. Seeing the aggrieved expression on her face, wrinkled from the taste, he quirked his lips and downed the entire bowl in one go, not even flinching.
Bai Qingqing looked at him, eyes full of awe. “Didn’t you think it was bitter? I’ve never had anything that awful in my life. You’re amazing!”
Her eyes sparkled as if Ning Yan had just accomplished so great feat. He rather enjoyed the look but kept his expression calm. “That wasn’t bitter. I’m just tired of drinking the sa thing every day.”
He had barely finished speaking when she picked out a candied fruit and offered it to his lips. “Not being afraid of bitterness doesn’t an you enjoy it. Try this—it’s really sweet.”
Ning Yan froze for a beat, eyes lowering slightly. The fruit in her hand glistened with syrup. It did look sweet.
Others would just admire him for not fearing hardship and move on. But she… she wanted him to taste sothing sweet.
His Adam’s apple bobbed faintly. Then he leaned forward and bit down gently, his tongue curling around the fruit as he pulled it into his mouth.
Startled, Bai Qingqing quickly withdrew her hand. “I—I’ll take the bowl out first.”
Before she reached the door, she heard Ning Yan murmur behind her, voice low and soft, “So sweet.”
Her ears burned for no reason. She fled, clutching her fingers tightly.
Inside, Ning Yan rolled the fruit from one cheek to the other, his tongue running lightly over his lips, catching stray sugar crystals. Smacking his lips in satisfaction, he thought—if Wen Jiang liked prescribing dicine, let him. Ill or not, a little daily tonic wasn’t so bad after all.
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