Xia Shuang woke up.
The first moment she opened her eyes, her limbs felt as weak as if her bones had been removed.
The world spun, and every inch of her body throbbed with pain.
Xia Shuang blinked, and her vision gradually cleared.
A small face leaned close to her, eyes rimmed with red. It was her sister, Xia Ling.
“Sister! Sister, you’re finally awake!” Xia Ling’s voice was filled with urgency and joy. “Are you feeling any better?”
Xia Shuang opened her mouth, but only a raspy, airy sound escaped. “Ah… ah.”
She struggled to prop herself up and looked around. She wasn’t in the wild; there was no dry grass or biting wind.
She was lying on a bed, covered with a thin quilt, and the room was warm.
Xia Shuang’s gaze landed a short distance away.
A young boy dressed in white sat there quietly, with a small girl in brocade clothes standing beside him.
The boy was exceptionally handsome, with refined features, but his eyes were pure white.
Xia Shuang froze.
“Ah… ah-ah-ah.” She gestured toward her sister, pointing at her surroundings and then herself, asking what was happening.
Before Xia Ling could answer, the little girl spoke up.
“Brother, that mute girl is awake,” Song Youyi said in a childish voice, tugging at Song Ning’s sleeve.
Song Ning nodded and stood up.
Beside him stood a woman in black wearing a square hat. She looked to be around 40 years old, with a thin face but eyes that were exceptionally bright—the look of someone who had spent years traveling far and wide.
“Can her mutism be cured?” Song Ning asked.
The physician looked at Xia Shuang on the bed, then at Song Ning, and shook her head with a bitter smile.
“Please forgive my lack of skill, Master Song, for making you travel so far to see me.” She sighed. “I have no way to help your eyes, and as for her mutism, I also…”
No disappointment or any other emotion flickered across Song Ning’s face.
He simply listened quietly and offered a faint smile.
“You needn’t blame yourself, Physician,” he said, his voice gentle.
“This world is full of strange and wondrous illnesses. Being unable to cure one does not make your skills inferior.”
“You have a healing touch and have cured so many patients, saving so many lives. How could you call yourself inferior?”
He paused, then added, “I know you travel the four corners of the earth and do not wish to stay in one place. This is the fee for my consultation. Please, accept it.”
The female attendant behind him stepped forward and presented a small box. Inside was shining silver—not a vast fortune, but more than enough.
The physician looked at the young boy in surprise.
He wasn’t old, perhaps 11 or 12 years old at most, yet his manner of speaking and acting possessed a composure far beyond his years.
Those white eyes could see nothing, yet they only added to his steady, dignified aura.
“As expected of the Eldest Son of the Song Family,” the physician remarked, her tone carrying a hint of regret.
She pushed the box back slightly and smiled wryly.
“I have some history with your mother. I think this money should be—”
Song Ning shook his head and waved his hand.
“Then you should definitely accept it,” he said with a small smile. “Thank you for your trouble.”
“If you ever intend to find a place to settle down in the future, the doors of the Song Family will always be open to you.”
He spoke plainly, but he had his own calculations.
He knew all too well what the future of this dynasty would look like.
The Chaotic Era was coming, and talent would be precious.
By planting a seed of kindness today, it might one day bear fruit when he needed it most.
The physician watched him for a moment before finally nodding and accepting the silver.
“I have troubled you.” Song Ning bowed slightly and instructed his attendants to bring the Xia sisters and begin the journey back to the Capital City.
Just as the group was about to leave, the physician’s voice came from behind them.
“Master, please wait.”
Song Ning’s footsteps faltered, and he turned around.
The physician’s hand rubbed against her medical chest, a look of hesitation on her face.
After a moment, as if she had made up her mind, she spoke.
“Master, when I was studying, I had a senior sister whose medical skills were even more brilliant than mine.” She looked into Song Ning’s white eyes. “I cannot say for certain if she can cure your eyes, but for that girl’s throat, I think there might be a chance.”
A healer’s heart was compassionate; some things had to be said even if the girl was just someone Song Ning had picked up.
Finally, a trace of joy appeared on Song Ning’s face.
“Where is she now?”
If the girl could be cured, it would be a good thing.
However, the physician shook her head with a helpless expression.
“My senior sister is even wilder than I am. She’s used to being a wandering soul and has a peculiar personality.” She paused. “If I encounter her, I will inform her.”
In truth, she knew that with her senior sister’s temperament, she might not come even if she were told.
Furthermore, her price would likely be high. Human kindness had its limits; Song Ning might not be willing to pay for the treatment of a random girl from the roadside.
Song Ning was silent for a moment, then nodded.
He turned and reached out toward Xia Ling. “Where is the other girl? Let her come here.”
Xia Ling had been listening intently and immediately pushed her sister forward.
“Master, she’s right here!”
Xia Shuang stumbled forward from the push, crashing right into Song Ning.
Startled, she froze in place, her small face written with confusion and fear.
The child was thin—thinner than most girls. Her face was sunken, though whether from hunger or nature, it was hard to tell.
Yet, between her brows, there was a faint, cold intensity that was a world apart from her sister Xia Ling’s lively energy.
Sensing someone in front of him, Song Ning leaned down slightly and said softly:
“Give your thanks. Consider it a gesture of gratitude.”
Xia Shuang stared blankly at the face so close to hers. Those white eyes were directed at her, and though they couldn’t see, it felt as if they were looking right through her.
A strange, indescribable feeling suddenly welled up in her heart. She began to gesture frantically.
But he couldn’t see her.
Anxious, she let out two “ah, ah” sounds and awkwardly tried to mimic the bows she remembered seeing others perform, bending down clumsily.
The physician watched the scene from the side, unable to help the pang of pity in her heart.
Two poor children.
One couldn’t speak, and the other couldn’t see.
Even if they stayed together, they would likely never be able to share a proper conversation in their entire lives.
……
The carriage left Qingzhou and headed all the way to the Capital City.
Later, Xia Ling and Xia Shuang entered the Song Mansion.
Xia Ling stayed by Song Ning’s side as his personal maid.
She was clever, sweet-talking, and a quick learner. Within 2 days, she had mapped out all of Song Ning’s preferences.
Xia Shuang, however, did not.
She could not speak, and Song Ning could not see; communication was nearly impossible.
Their initial attempts ended in failure. Xia Shuang would gesture for a long time, but Song Ning could only “look” in her direction with a vacant expression and offer an apologetic smile.
“Let her stay elsewhere for now,” Mother Song had said.
And so, Xia Shuang was assigned to a separate courtyard.
……
The water in the bath grew cold.
Song Ning pulled his thoughts back from his memories and realized he had been soaking for too long.
He straightened up, the water splashing loudly. Steam rose, blurring his vision, though he couldn’t see anything anyway.
He stepped out of the tub, his bare feet touching the fine brick floor.
Feeling his way to the nearby rack by memory, he took down a dry cloth and began to slowly wipe his body.
The droplets were wicked away, though the warmth of the hot water still lingered on his skin.
He straightened up and found the neatly folded robe on the rack.
Once he was sure he was properly dressed, he called out toward the door:
“I’m finished.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the door was pushed open.
Xia Ling poked half her body inside, her large eyes bright and her face beaming with a smile.
“I’m here, Master!”
She had been listening to the movements inside. The sound of water had stopped, followed by the rustling of the cloth for a long while.
Xia Shuang followed behind her, turning her face away and crossing the threshold with an expressionless gaze.
Song Ning stood in place, waiting for them to approach.
For the next part, he would need them.
Xia Ling stepped forward and first helped him adjust the collar of his robe. He had already arranged it neatly, but she couldn’t help the redundant gesture.
Her fingers brushed the thin fabric, feeling the faint warmth beneath it, and her heart skipped a beat.
She stole a glance at Song Ning.
His face was flushed from the steam, his fair skin tinged with a light pink. His eyelashes were wet, drooping like two feathers weighted with dew.
Those white eyes were peacefully closed, and his expression was relaxed and serene.
Xia Ling’s heart fluttered again.
She quickly averted her eyes, pretending to be focused on tidying his collar.
Next was drying his hair.
Song Ning’s hair was very long, black and smooth. After being soaked in hot water, it hung heavily over his shoulders.
Xia Ling took another dry cloth and carefully began to pat it dry.
Her face began to burn.
It was like this every time. Every time she helped the Master bathe and change, she had to endure this.
Her heart would race, her cheeks would heat up, and her mind would uncontrollably conjure images she shouldn’t be thinking about.
‘Master’s shoulders, his collarbone, and the hints of what lay beneath his robe…’
She pinched herself hard to drive the thoughts away.
But they always came back.
Especially when she wiped his feet.
Whenever it was time to dry Song Ning’s feet, Xia Ling almost fought for the task.
She knelt down, gently lifting Song Ning’s foot and placing it on her knee.
The feet were white and clean, the bones well-defined, and the nails neatly trimmed.
Xia Ling used the cloth to meticulously wipe them from the top to the sole.
She kept her head low, not daring to let anyone see her expression.
She had dried these feet countless times.
Each time, she felt as if she were performing a sacred rite.
Xia Shuang watched her expressionlessly, her eyes dull and devoid of emotion.
“Master, it is done,” Xia Shuang said succinctly, her voice as flat as always.
The two of them flanked Song Ning, taking his arms to support him as they walked toward the bedroom.
Halfway there, Xia Ling suddenly remembered something and spoke up:
“Speaking of which, isn’t Master supposed to pay a return visit to the Qi Family tomorrow?”
Song Ning nodded.
“I know,” he said.
“Why else would I have taken a bath today?”
“Regardless of how others see us, we should simply do what we are supposed to do.”
Hearing this, Xia Ling felt a sudden pang of bitterness.
The Master had always been this way toward Qi Chuyao of the Qi Family—perfectly polite and beyond reproach.
But what about the other party? She had hardly shown her face.
Xia Ling even felt that even if that Qi Chuyao wanted to do something to Master on the spot, or do something disrespectful to his body, Master wouldn’t refuse her. He would only go along with her.
Qi Chuyao could do anything to the Master. The things Xia Ling could only fantasize about or peek at, Qi Chuyao could do openly and rightfully.
Simply because her name was Qi Chuyao, and the families were old friends.
Xia Ling opened her mouth to speak, but ultimately swallowed her words.
……
The Qi Mansion.
Everything in sight was a vibrant red.
Red silk hung from the corridors, “double happiness” characters were pasted on the windows, and even the trees in the courtyard were tied with red strings.
The atmosphere was festive everywhere, reminding everyone of the same thing.
The wedding date was near.
Qi Chuyao rode her horse back to the mansion, and the moment she saw the sea of red, her expression darkened.
She had just returned from a hunt outside the city and hadn’t even changed out of her riding gear. Her face bore the weariness of travel, and her brow was clouded with irritation.
Qi Chuyao flipped off her horse, tossed the reins to a servant who rushed forward, and strode into the mansion.
“Honestly, looking at this just makes me annoyed,” she said coldly.
A light laugh came from behind her.
“What’s wrong with getting married?” The voice was hearty, carrying a strange undertone.
“Why be annoyed? Isn’t it one of life’s great joys? Sister Qi, you really lack a sense of romance.”
Qi Chuyao looked back.
The speaker was Qin Junyue.
She followed behind Qi Chuyao, having also just dismounted.
Her long, jet-black hair was tied high in a ponytail, with a few stray strands damp with sweat and stuck to her forehead.
She had a strikingly beautiful and heroic face, with eyes that commanded attention, a high bridge to her nose, and thin lips pressed into a sharp jawline.
Her sturdy outfit outlined a tall, powerful silhouette, and a long spear was slung across her back, its tassel fluttering gently in the breeze.
Standing there, she was the very definition of valiant and formidable.
Qi Chuyao looked at her and huffed in annoyance.
“Hmph, I don’t like him.” She turned her head and continued walking inward. “Junyue, would you be willing to marry a blind man?”
Qin Junyue’s footsteps faltered slightly.
She pursed her lips, and an emotion flickered through her beautiful eyes.
“Who knows,” she said softly.
Her tone was light, making it impossible to read her thoughts.
Qi Chuyao didn’t notice the subtle shift. She focused only on walking ahead and scoffed.
“Since you aren’t the one being forced to marry, of course you can say you don’t know.”