Knowing the Warmth of Southern Tea (GL) - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“Mother, I’m back! I bought buns for you!” Suddenly, Xingyue’s voice rang out from outside. She hurried into the courtyard, followed by An Yi, An San, and An Si.

“Yue’er is back.” Rongrong, who was brewing medicine in the kitchen, heard her daughter’s voice and set down her fan. She hurried out to greet her, but moving too quickly caused a wave of dizziness, forcing her to pause.

“Are you alright, Mother?” Seeing her mother pressing her hand to her forehead, Xingyue rushed over to massage her temples.

“I’m fine. And these three?” Rongrong asked. She knew perfectly well who they were; the wounds on their bodies suggested they traveled with Miss Nan.

Nan Nuan had finished tidying herself up by then and stepped out of her room upon hearing the commotion. “Those three are my guards. Come, pay your respects to the Madam.”

“Greetings, Madam,” the three said in unison. Rongrong nodded in return. This woman’s background is certainly not simple—hidden guards, a capital accent…

“Xingyue, there is medicine I’ve brewed in the kitchen; find some ointments for them as well. I’m a bit tired.” Rongrong felt that lately, her strength was failing her, and her head was often spinning. Could it just be old age?

“Alright,” Xingyue replied. Rongrong turned toward her bedroom, but before she could regain her balance, another bout of vertigo hit. She was about to fall when Xingyue and Nan Nuan rushed to catch her—but neither was as fast as Zhuang, who appeared out of nowhere.

“Are you alright?” Zhuang asked worriedly. For some time now, Rongrong had suffered from a poor appetite and a general lack of energy.

“Mm,” Rongrong whispered, and Zhuang supported her as they headed back to their room.

“The Master and Madam’s relationship is truly… ‘good,'” Nan Nuan said to Xingyue with a smile. On the surface, she seemed envious, but inwardly she felt differently. Nan Nuan acknowledged Gu Zhuang’s great abilities, but she viewed him as a man whose “heroic spirit was shortened by his tender feelings for a woman.” To her, he was just an ordinary man.

Legend had it that before the current Emperor ascended—back when he was still the Crown Prince—Gu Zhuang was his closest confidant. When the Emperor took the throne, those who had followed him from the start were showered with glory and wealth. Only Gu Zhuang had chosen to indulge in mountains and rivers instead. He declined the post of Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review and requested to retire in his prime. The Emperor tried to persuade him to stay multiple times but ultimately granted his wish.

Nan Nuan used to think this was just a rumor. After all, “when the birds are gone, the good bow is stored away.”

To find it was actually true—did this man truly not crave power? Impossible. To the men of this world, were not fame, fortune, and a bevy of wives the ultimate pursuit? How could such an anomaly exist?

One could not blame Nan Nuan for her cynical view of men. Since she was thirteen, too many men had approached her solely for personal gain. Furthermore, though her father, Nan Zhao, respected and loved her mother, he still accepted the beauties bestowed upon him by the Emperor. And as for her brother, who remained unmarried without even a bedchamber maid—was that not simply because he was too sickly to perform? Nan Nuan was accustomed to interpreting the world with the greatest possible malice.

Because some forms of beauty were things she had never possessed.

Nan Nuan’s mother died during a difficult labor while giving birth to her. Although her father did not blame Nan Nuan, he could not help but feel a lingering resentment toward the child who had taken his beloved away. Raised by a wet nurse, Nan Nuan grew up with a father who loved her but never knew how to express it. Though the servants never mistreated her, she grew up in an environment of cold indifference.

Over time, she had become somewhat extreme.

“Sigh, they’ve been like that since I was little. You get used to it. Want a bun?” Xingyue said. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she loved hearing people praise her parents. Having grown up in a simple environment, she didn’t catch the heavy, sarcastic emphasis Nan Nuan placed on the word “good.”

“No, thank you, Xingyue. I have my own arrangements,” Nan Nuan replied, noticing Xingyue’s slight awkwardness.

“Fair enough. Oh, what about the girl who was badly injured?” Xingyue asked out of politeness.

“She’s in the medical room. Miss Xingyue, may I go in now?” Nan Nuan asked. Since she was a guest, she felt she should respect the owner’s wishes.

“Of course. As long as my mother isn’t in there treating a patient, you can go in whenever. When she is in there, no one is allowed inside except the patient and my dad.” Xingyue sounded a bit miffed by this rule. Ever since she expressed a lack of interest in medicine as a child, her father had forbidden her from entering the medical room. She felt quite wronged.

“I see.” Divine physicians always have their quirks, Nan Nuan thought. She didn’t hold it against Rongrong; the rule was simply to prevent distractions during treatment.

Xingyue saw that the person inside was important to Nan Nuan and realized Nan Nuan wasn’t in the mood to chat, so she let her go in.

Nan Nuan didn’t hesitate. After getting consent, she stepped inside and saw the unconscious Wen Cha on the bed, her face still covered in sweat. Nan Nuan took her own handkerchief, moistened it, and began to wipe Wen Cha’s brow.

“Miss Nan, you should go drink your medicine first. This girl isn’t going anywhere,” Xingyue called out. Yesterday, while taking statements from the three guards, she had learned a new lesson: hidden guards aren’t human. Once they put on ointment, they act as if they were never hit, and their healing ability is terrifying. Most importantly, one of them was such a talker that he could have been a professional storyteller—he practically turned black into white…

“I’m in no hurry. Thank you, Miss Xingyue.” Nan Nuan didn’t leave. Instead, she rinsed the cloth again and carefully began to wipe the bloodstains from Wen Cha’s body. She was incredibly meticulous.

“Just call me Xingyue. Do as you like; there are buns and soy milk in the outer room. Eat if you’re hungry, drink if you’re thirsty. I’m exhausted, I’m going to sleep.” Xingyue decided to stop bothering with Nan Nuan. She had no patience for people who didn’t appreciate kindness.

“I’m curious about one thing. Is ‘Xingyue’ your given name?” Nan Nuan noticed Xingyue’s annoyance and asked specifically to soften the mood.

“No, it’s my courtesy name. It comes from the poem: ‘I wish to be the star and you the moon, shining upon each other night after night.’” Xingyue replied, clearly fond of her name.

“I see.”

“My father gave it to me. He said it was my mother’s favorite poem,” Xingyue couldn’t help but add.

“How lovely. Master Zhuang and the Madam truly have a profound bond.”

“They’re alright, I guess,” Xingyue said, before happily scurrying away.

Nan Nuan smiled; the girl really wore her heart on her sleeve. She looked down at the pale Wen Cha. Suddenly, she found she quite liked that line: ‘I wish to be the star and you the moon, shining upon each other night after night.’

She continued cleaning Wen Cha, drank the medicine An San brought in, and remained by Wen Cha’s side, keeping watch.