After finishing her discussion with Li Tinghui, Ji Ping’an finally stepped out with Dongchun. Song Huaiyu had been standing with his hands behind his back by the entrance the whole time, occasionally gncing inside but never once disturbing her work.

  Seeing her come out, Song Huaiyu asked, “All done?”

  “Mm.” Ji Ping’an nodded, still a little reluctant as she looked back toward the inner hall of the clinic. “The yout’s been about seventy to eighty percent adjusted. A few cabinets still need to be built. Once those are done, I’ll categorize and organize the medicinal herbs I’ve already ordered. By then, it’ll be time for the Imperial Medical Exam. I should be able to get my physician’s license before the clinic opens.”

  “You’re taking the Imperial Medical Exam?” Song Huaiyu was taken aback.

  “What is it?” Ji Ping’an frowned slightly, clearly puzzled by his reaction.

  Song Huaiyu pressed his lips together and gnced toward the clinic’s interior—some workers were sawing wood, others hammering nails. Everyone worked in harmony, each with their own task.

  The words the sky is vast, the sea wide, birds fly free, and fish leap suddenly came to mind.

  The astonishment on Song Huaiyu’s face faded like a receding cloud. A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “It’s nothing. It’s just that noble young dies usually pursue refined arts and poetry. Very few are willing to sit for the Imperial Medical Exam. It startled me for a moment because the exam does divide by gender, but it doesn’t restrict participants by social css. With your skill, you absolutely belong in the field of medicine. Have you gotten your letter of recommendation?”

  “Her Highness the Princess has already written and submitted it,” Ji Ping’an replied. “The exam permit should be delivered to the Song residence in a few days.”

  “I’ll have the gatekeeper keep watch,” Song Huaiyu said. “As soon as it arrives, I’ll make sure you get it.”

  “Thank you, Cousin Huaiyu.”

  Just then, Dongchun called over Mu Sheng to bring the carriage around.

  Dongchun hopped down to help Ji Ping’an into the carriage. Suddenly, Song Huaiyu said, “Little Cousin, you don’t have to be so formal with me.”

  Ji Ping’an paused, confused as to why he would say that.

  Song Huaiyu shook his head with a soft smile. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

  “Alright.”

  By the time they returned to the Song estate, it was already quite te. Dongchun directed the servants to carry in all the rewards granted by the Princess.

  News that Ji Ping’an had cured Her Highness and earned her favor had already spread through the household. Many members of the Song family came to pay their respects, and Ji Ping’an had to carefully navigate through all the pleasantries. It took a great deal of effort to politely send everyone on their way.

  Before leaving, Song Zhiyin stared at Ji Ping’an for a long time. “Second Brother didn’t ask you?”

  Ji Ping’an blinked in confusion. “Ask what?”

  Song Zhiyin let out a small huff. “Hmph. That Second Brother of mine—decisive in everything else, but when it comes to this, he drags his feet like an old woman.”

  "No," Song Zhiyin thought. She needed to ask for a clear answer.

  After she left, Song Zhishu stood there, eyes lingering on the Princess’s vish gifts id out across the room. She hesitated for a long moment before finally speaking. “Cousin Ping’an, I pyed a big part in catching Zhou Pingping, too. If I hadn’t deduced from the hairpin that she was behind the sachet scheme, Second Brother wouldn’t have been able to bait her out so quickly. Now she’s caught, the real murderer is caught, and you’ve cured Her Highness’s illness. Has the Princess… has she not asked who embroidered the artwork?”

  Ji Ping’an shook her head. “She hasn’t.”

  That made Song Zhishu anxious. “She didn’t ask, and you didn’t bring it up? That embroidery was detailed stitch by stitch—it couldn’t have been completed in less than a year!”

  Ji Ping’an replied, “The Princess didn’t ask who embroidered it, but she did say one thing.”

  Song Zhishu tightened her grip on her embroidered handkerchief. “What did she say?”

  Ji Ping’an said, “She said, ‘Since no one stood up at the time, there’s no need to bring it up again.’”

  The color drained from Song Zhishu’s face.

  A whole year’s worth of effort down the drain, her work ending up as someone else’s merit. She was so upset she didn’t even bother with pleasantries. She stood up and left. Bilu gave Ji Ping’an a hasty curtsy and hurried after her.

  Dongchun snorted and pouted. “Didn’t dare step up in a life-and-death moment, but now that everything’s settled, she wants to take the credit?”

  Ji Ping’an sighed. “Given the danger that day, even if Cousin Zhishu had stepped forward, she would’ve only added herself to the list of casualties.”

  Dongchun huffed, “But it still rubs me the wrong way. If she backed down then, why bring it up now?”

  Ji Ping’an asked, “Wouldn’t you feel upset if a gift you spent a year preparing ended up wasted due to an accident?”

  Dongchun replied, “Sure, I’d be upset, but I wouldn’t be shameless about it.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Dongchun was right. But logic is logic—feelings are something else entirely.

  Ji Ping’an didn’t speak further. She knew Song Zhishu understood this herself. Otherwise, she would’ve gone to cim the embroidery at the Princess’s estate the moment Ji Ping’an left prison. But understanding something doesn’t make it hurt less, especially after seeing a room full of rewards that weren’t hers.

  —

  In Song Huaiyu’s courtyard.

  Song Zhiyin lifted her skirts, dismissed the maids, and stormed straight into the study.

  Song Huaiyu hurried to hide the painting in his hands.

  Too te—Song Zhiyin snatched it away. “What painting could be so precious you have to admire it in secret, even from your own sister?”

  She unrolled the scroll. “Oh ho! So this is what you’ve been hiding—sneaking off to your study to paint our cousin’s portrait! I’m telling Mother!”

  “Don’t!” Song Huaiyu snapped, flustered.

  “Why not?” Song Zhiyin pouted and raised her chin. “If Mother knew how you felt, she’d help you talk to Cousin Ping’an! Wouldn’t it be better to have an ally?”

  Song Huaiyu retrieved the painting and carefully stored it in the cabinet. “She’s taking the Imperial Medical Exam.”

  “What? The medical exam?” Song Zhiyin’s voice shot up. “Why? Doesn’t she realize that once a woman earns a license to practice medicine, it becomes nearly impossible for her to marry? No noble dy would take on such an unseemly profession!”

  To commoners, physicians were respected people whom they had to plead with and treat kindly. But to nobles, doctors were still a lower css.

  You welcomed them in, spoke politely, and if they cured your illness, you gave a reward—that was already seen as generous. If they failed, a scolding or punishment wasn’t out of the question.

  In the eyes of the aristocracy, a doctor—even a great one—was no better than a master seamstress.

  In this world, power was what truly mattered.

  “Second Brother, I know you like her,” Zhiyin continued, “and you truly want to marry her. But given her status, even becoming your concubine is already the most Father and Big Brother would tolerate. We can’t let her be so reckless.”

  “She’s not being reckless. She’s serious,” Song Huaiyu said, his eyes bright with conviction. “She’s not just taking the medical exam. She’s going to open a clinic and treat the poor for free.”

  “That’s even more reckless!” Zhiyin grabbed his sleeve. “We have to stop her!”

  Song Huaiyu said quietly, “Radiant as the sun and moon, steady as the stars in the sky. A brilliant gem belongs beneath the heavens—this is how it should be.”

  “Have you gone mad?” Song Zhiyin genuinely didn’t understand. “Second Brother, I don’t even recognize you anymore! You were never like this before.”

  “You know what I thought,” Song Huaiyu said softly, “when I stood outside her clinic and watched her speak with such crity and passion, glowing with purpose? I remembered how she stood in the magistrate’s office, unwavering in the face of pressure. I remembered how she answered the Princess with absolute honesty. When she talks about medicine, she shines. Not like when she’s stuck in the back courtyard of the Song estate. Radiant as the sun and moon, steady as the stars in the sky. That’s who she is. That moment… it cracked open something in me that I’d kept buried all my life. She’s incredible. And I—when I can’t even convince Father, Big Brother, or you—I have no right to disrupt her path. Not until I can stand tall on my own, apart from the Song family. Not until I can protect her and ask for her hand as my wife with honor and integrity.”

  He smiled faintly and gently pried Zhiyin’s fingers from his sleeve. “You’re always saying women are no less than men. That I’m too uptight, too rigid.”

  “I…” Zhiyin was speechless for a moment. “That’s because you’re my Second Brother. Of course, I’m biased. If Cousin Ping’an really became my sister-in-w, I’d be biased for her too.”

  “Then start now,” Song Huaiyu said gently. “She’s the one I care about.”

  Sunlight filtered through the window ttice, casting soft golden lines on the butterfly hairpin nestled in Zhiyin’s hair. Its wings shimmered with the faintest tremble, like spring fading into summer.

  Zhiyin’s lips pressed into a pale line. She tried to smile, but it came out broken—like the st petals of te spring. “Second Brother… don’t be like this. You’re too serious. So serious, it scares me.”