Chapter Forty-Three: At Least You Still Have a Conscience

Shen Nanyuan detested taking medicine above all else. Pouting and petulant, she complained of the bitterness and refused to drink it. If no one was watching her, she would, without a doubt, pour the medicine into the pond to feed the fish. Had Qingrui not caught her once, the fish in the pond might have become quite accustomed to her medicine by now.

Shen Sinian looked down at Shen Nanyuan, who was lying in bed with her brows furrowed, and patted his chest. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, not a single drop of her medicine will be spilled!”

Madam Shen nodded. “That’s for the best.”

Shen Nanyuan heard this clearly and let out a weak little hum. “There’s no need. I can take it myself. I am not who I used to be. It’s just medicine—what’s the big deal?”

She scoffed now, but when Li Bo brought in the freshly brewed medicine and she took her first sip, the overpowering bitterness assaulted her taste buds so fiercely that she sucked in a sharp breath and looked up. Catching the faintly amused smile on Shen Sinian’s face, she found herself unable to take a second mouthful.

Shen Sinian raised an eyebrow, his tone a touch mocking. “It’s just medicine, what’s the big deal! You’re not who you used to be, so hurry and drink it down!”

Shen Nanyuan forced a dry smile and said cautiously, “This medicine seems a bit too bitter.”

“Indeed, but saying so won’t help. Hurry up and drink!”

With all four people in the room watching her, Shen Nanyuan gritted her teeth, steeled herself, and drank the entire bowl in one go. Her little face scrunched up at once, and Qingrui hurriedly handed her a preserved fruit, which helped to ease the bitterness lingering in her mouth.

With a sigh, Shen Nanyuan lay back down on the bed, suddenly feeling drowsy.

Shen Sinian, with a rare hint of approval, said, “Yuanyuan truly isn’t the same as the girl who used to argue with me for half an hour over medicine.”

He smiled. “Then in the coming days, you should be able to take your medicine just as well every time.”

How venomous his words were.

Shen Nanyuan lifted her chin. “Of course! It’s just medicine!”

“That’s good, then.”

He smiled again. “Then we can rest easy.”

Wasn’t this the same person who was just feeling sorry for her? It hadn’t been long, and now he was like this? Clearly, he had been at his wit’s end with the original owner’s antics over medicine for a long time.

Madam Shen stepped forward to tuck the covers around her. “Sleep, dear. I’ll come see you again in the morning.”

“All right,” Shen Nanyuan replied obediently. “Mother, please go get some rest.”

Shen Sinian added, “Then your brother will come see you in the morning as well.”

Shen Nanyuan muttered, “Just go, will you?”

Shen Sinian couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Still holding a grudge, I see.”

Night had long since fallen outside. Once everyone had left, drowsiness washed over Shen Nanyuan.

Qingrui kept watch over her that night, sleeping on the soft couch outside. In her half-asleep haze, Shen Nanyuan suddenly thought of Xiao Yan. She hadn’t seen him since her fever began, and she couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

That rascal truly had no one in his heart but Meng Chuyue.

She had cared for him for so long, yet he hadn’t shown himself even once. To say she felt no disappointment would have been a lie.

Shen Nanyuan drifted into a hazy sleep. In the silence of deep night, only the moonlight slipped in through the cracks of the window, casting a peaceful yet lonely glow.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, the sound stark in the quiet room.

Qingrui did not wake, sleeping soundly beneath her quilt.

Xiao Yan walked in quietly, hesitating for a moment before the inner screen, lips pressed together. He ought not to enter a young lady’s chambers, and Qingrui had told him that after taking her medicine, she’d be fine, so he should have been reassured. Yet he could not rest easy without seeing for himself. That was why he had come so late, when all was still.

The room was thick with the smell of medicine, laced with a faint fragrance. Shen Nanyuan slept deeply, her breathing even and soft, her face serene in sleep. Gone was the liveliness of the day—now, she seemed fragile and gentle.

Xiao Yan’s heart pounded. He had only intended to take a look and leave, but now that he saw her, he found himself unable to move, standing there in a daze, gazing at her. An inexplicable flutter of emotion made him reach out, his hand landing lightly on Shen Nanyuan’s forehead.

Her skin was delicate and smooth. Thankfully, the fever seemed to have subsided somewhat.

He felt a little relieved.

Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, Shen Nanyuan’s eyes suddenly snapped open. Her gaze was clear and bright, her eyes moist from the fever, yet still astonishingly luminous.

Xiao Yan’s hand trembled as he hurriedly pulled it back, unable to hide his fluster.

Shen Nanyuan, half-awake, murmured, “Xiao Yan?”

Her voice was soft and gentle, barely above a whisper, sounding even more delicate in the darkness.

She pouted and muttered, “At least you still have a conscience to come see me. I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

Her head ached with dizziness. Shen Nanyuan closed her eyes for a moment, a trace of familiar warmth and a faint smile surfacing in her gaze, as if greatly comforted. “You’re really not so bad after all.”

Seeing her eyes, tinged with dependence, Xiao Yan felt his throat tighten, momentarily unable to speak.

He couldn’t understand why she would look at him like that, nor could he explain the joy blossoming in his own heart.

He dropped his gaze, not daring to meet her eyes, and spoke softly, “Are you thirsty? Would you like some water?”

“A little,” she replied.

Xiao Yan rose, walked to the table, and poured a cup of tea. It was still steaming slightly. Shen Nanyuan’s mind cleared a little as she propped herself up and finished the cup in one gulp.

She looked at Xiao Yan, then reached up to touch her own forehead. “How is it? Do I still have a fever?”

“It’s a bit better,” Xiao Yan said, pouring her another cup and handing it over. “Miss, you must remember to take your medicine on time. It’s the only way to recover quickly.”

Shen Nanyuan paused, frowning. “?”

Xiao Yan continued, eyes lowered, “Young Master said you often pour your medicine into the pond to feed the fish, so he asked me to watch over you.”

Shen Nanyuan was speechless.

Well then… just how many people had Shen Sinian told about this?

Even Xiao Yan knew.

She grumbled, looking up at him in hopes of finding an ally. “You used to take medicine all the time. Didn’t you find it unbearably bitter? Didn’t you want to spit it out?”

“A little,” Xiao Yan replied patiently, “but I knew that only by drinking it could I get better, so I never poured it into the pond.”

Shen Nanyuan was at a loss for words.

The original owner’s exploits left her deeply embarrassed now.

She downed the tea in a single gulp, lay back on the bed, and conceded, “I get it. I’ll take it properly from now on.”

Sleepiness overcame her again.

Shen Nanyuan yawned. “All right, it’s late—you should get some rest, too. I’m fine now.”

Though she had just been thinking Xiao Yan was heartless, seeing him now, she could tell he truly cared. “Just don’t be like me—having a fever is really miserable.”

“I won’t,” Xiao Yan replied.

He watched as she slowly closed her eyes, then reached over to tuck her covers in more securely. Only when she had drifted into a steady, peaceful slumber did he quietly turn to leave.