In a moment of impulse, I forcibly kissed my brother's best friend.

"Master? Master, wake up!"

The anxious calls seemed to come from a very far place.

Cui Yutang struggled to open his eyes, his vision blurry. Bao Yu's panicked face flickered before his eyes.

"Master, you're finally awake! You scared me to death!" Baoyu said, her voice trembling with tears. "I'll go get a doctor right away!"

"No need..." he tried to stop him, but his voice was so hoarse that he could barely speak.

Baoyu had already rushed out.

When he regained consciousness, Physician Zhao was sitting by the bed, solemnly taking his pulse.

"Your heart is heavy with sorrow, you've caught a cold, and you've been working tirelessly for days without rest." Physician Zhao withdrew his hand and sighed heavily. "So young, why torture yourself like this?"

Bao Yu knelt down with a thud, breaking down in tears: "Imperial Physician Zhao, you must save my master! He was perfectly fine yesterday, how could he suddenly..."

"What are you crying for! With me here, he won't die!" Physician Zhao puffed out his beard and glared, "Bad luck!"

"That's good, that's good..." Baoyu wiped away her tears and got up. "Whatever you need me to do, just tell me!"

"Use the best herbs according to this prescription." Physician Zhao quickly wrote down, "Boil three bowls of water down to one bowl, and take it once every two hours."

"I'll go right away!"

"Butler Li, bring me hot water, I need to have acupuncture."

One silver needle after another fell. The cool touch pierced the acupoints, bringing a slight pain. Cui Yutang kept his eyes closed, his consciousness fluctuating between drowsiness and wakefulness.

I don't know how much time passed, so long that the sky outside the window darkened and then brightened again, brightened and then darkened again.

He didn't truly wake up until the morning of the fourth day.

Opening his eyes, he saw a tall figure standing before the bed. The man was dressed in a black, close-fitting outfit, with a sword at his waist. His face was cold and hard, but his eyes held undisguised worry.

It's Cui Zu. He used to be the head guard by his father's side, and now he's the head steward of the Cui family.

"Young Master," Cui Zu said in a deep voice, his brows furrowed, "how did you become so ill?"

Cui Yutang tried to speak, but his throat was dry and sore, and he could only manage a few breathy sounds.

Physician Zhao entered carrying a bowl of medicine. Upon seeing Cui Zu, who had come from the capital, his expression was knowing. He walked to the bedside and said to Cui Zu, "Steward Cui, your young master's current health cannot withstand the arduous journey. If he is to return to the capital, he will need at least four or five more days of rest."

Cui Zu looked at Cui Yutang.

Cui Yutang slowly shook his head, his voice low and hoarse: "It's nothing."

But his face was deathly pale, his long eyelashes drooped, and his eyes were dull. He looked as fragile as delicate porcelain, hardly like someone who was "unharmed."

Cui Zu was silent for a moment, then cupped his hands to Physician Zhao: "Thank you for your concern, Physician Zhao. Young Master, please rest for a few more days until you are fully recovered before returning to the capital."

Physician Zhao nodded and handed the medicine bowl to Baoyu: "Give it to him carefully. This illness depends 30% on medicine and 70% on proper care. If the emotional knot isn't untied, medicine will be ineffective."

He spoke those last words softly, but his gaze fell on Cui Yutang's face, filled with a deep sigh.

Cui Yutang closed his eyes and let Baoyu help him up, feeding him spoonful by spoonful of the bitter medicine.

The 28th day of the first lunar month is an auspicious day for weddings.

Cui Yutang's carriage set off for the capital before dawn. The blue curtains of the carriage were drawn low, shutting out the chilly spring air and the rising noise of the city.

The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making a monotonous sound.

Beside the carriage, Cui Zu rode alongside, his dark attire making his face appear even more cold and hard. He would occasionally glance at the tightly closed carriage curtains, his brows furrowed with an unyielding worry.

When the young master got into the car this morning, he reached out to help him, and even through several layers of clothing, he could feel that his body temperature was low.

The words of Physician Zhao echoed in my ears again: "...The blockage in the heart meridian, the external wind and cold are just the trigger. This illness is caused by the torment in one's heart."

It was something I endured mentally.

Cui Zu gripped the reins tightly. He had been in the Cui household for over thirty years, watching his young master grow from a delicate, innocent child into the refined and reserved young man he was today. This child was good in every way—intelligent, self-disciplined, and respectful of propriety. But precisely because he was so good, he bore everything alone, and only he knew the true feelings he carried inside.

As the procession reached the middle of the long street, a sudden uproar arose from ahead.

Cui Zu looked up.

At the other end of the long street, a dazzling red was slowly moving in. A bridal sedan chair carried by eight people, with tassels swaying on its roof, was followed by musicians, maids holding lanterns, and servants carrying dowry chests. The procession stretched as far as the eye could see.

The groom rode a white horse at the front, dressed in a bright red wedding gown.

It was the Zhou family's wedding procession.

Cui Zu reined in his horse, raised his hand to signal the caravan to stop, and moved aside to make way. He subconsciously turned around and glanced at the silent, blue-curtained carriage behind him.

The carriage curtain remained motionless, like a silent grave.

May you have a long and happy marriage!

"The bride is so lucky!"

The sounds of congratulations almost brushed past the carriage. Just a few steps away, the magnificent bridal sedan chair brushed past the unassuming blue-curtained carriage. The vibrant, flowing red of the sedan chair contrasted sharply with the drab gray of the procession. Then, it gradually disappeared into the distance.

Cui Zu withdrew his gaze and uttered a single word in a deep voice:

"Walk."

The Zhou family mansion, a wedding banquet.

The front hall and back courtyard were brightly lit and bustling with activity. Almost all the prominent families of Donglin City were present, as were most of the teachers and students of Donglin Academy. Their moon-white academic robes stood out against the red silks filling the hall.

Xie Yige, dressed in a pale yellow ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) with a pearl-embroidered half-sleeved outer garment, moved gracefully among the ladies of the women's table, exchanging pleasantries with the wives and young ladies of various families. She maintained a perfectly measured smile, but her eyes couldn't help but drift through the throng of people towards the banquet area for the male guests.

My brother said he invited his classmates from the academy. Cui Yutang... should be coming.

She had to find a way to see him.

She had only caught a glimpse of the academy gate that day, and ten days had passed, but it felt like an eternity, with each day being incredibly difficult.

She...missed him.

"My dear daughter?" Xie Wanqing's smiling voice rang in her ears, carrying a teasing tone that only mothers and daughters could understand. "Your eyes keep glancing over there. Have you taken a fancy to some handsome young man? Tell your mother, and I'll go and check him out for you."

"Mother!" Xie Yige's ears turned red instantly. She turned around hurriedly, almost knocking over the teacup on the table. "What nonsense are you talking about! I... I'm going to check on my sister-in-law. She's been sitting all morning and must be hungry."

After saying that, without waiting for her mother's reaction, she lifted her skirt and slipped out of the banquet.

Xie Wanqing watched her daughter's retreating figure, which was almost a hasty escape, shook her head and chuckled, but her eyes were filled with genuine worry.

Inside the new house, red candles burned brightly.

Xie Wanrou, wearing a red veil embroidered with golden mandarin ducks, sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. Tingyu stood beside her, her face beaming with joy.

With a creak, the door was gently pushed open.

Xie Yige slipped in carrying a palm-sized red lacquered food box, then quickly closed the door, shutting out the noise outside.

"Sister-in-law," she said, walking quickly to the bedside, her voice soft and gentle, "Are you hungry? Have something to eat first."

She opened the food box, inside which were four or five small, exquisite rice balls, the white rice glistening, wrapped with finely minced meat, pink dried shrimp, emerald green vegetable shreds, and orange-red radish cubes, the aroma of which instantly filled the air.