Standing still, she reached out her hand, signaling for him to come hold her.
Yan Rong wanted to treat the Fifth Miss’s illness and left word behind, saying that no matter the consequences, he just wanted to cure her thoroughly.
Yu Jinnian would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. Back then, while Yan Rong was drunk, Yu Jinnian had said all sorts of nonsense, threatening him with words like “If you don’t save her, she’ll die,” but none of it was true. The Yan family was so old-fashioned, from the old madam down to the eldest son, they all counted on Yan Yuyao to marry well. How could they tolerate her marrying into a family as a woman who couldn’t bear sons? That would be more shameful than being blind, and people would gossip about them for a lifetime.
Everyone has their own fate, and Yu Jinnian couldn’t make decisions for Yan Yuyao. All he could do was throw out some frightening lies, hoping to make Yan Rong feel guilty, unable to eat or sleep peacefully, and be tormented by thoughts of his supposedly most cherished Fifth Sister. At the very least, it would give the Fifth Miss a small sense of satisfaction.
But unexpectedly, Yan Rong actually humbled himself and came to beg for his help.
Yu Jinnian neither agreed nor refused, leaving Yan Rong in suspense for the time it took to burn a stick of incense. Then, with an air of indifference, he sighed and said, “I’ll do my best!”
The words carried weight, and Yan Rong was terrified. He kept offering money, asking Yu Jinnian to pay extra attention. At that moment, he no longer minded that Yu Jinnian was a courtesan involved in backdoor dealings, making him seem like a bribe-taking quack.
Yu Jinnian took the money and sent his tall and strong servant Duan Ming to escort the guest out. Yet he didn’t rush to start working; instead, he leisurely continued his routine, frequently slipping into Ji Hong’s room to offer him pears, apples, and freshly made snacks.
Ji Hong, for a moment, felt that he wasn’t feverish but rather pregnant, as he was pampered in bed, attended to in every way. By evening, Yu Jinnian was spoon-feeding him medicine, and even washed his feet himself, gently drying them with a soft towel after.
Ji Hong protested that he didn’t want to trouble him, but deep down, he was thoroughly enjoying it, feeling that even his illness was half-cured.
It wasn’t until the next afternoon that Yu Jinnian finally began working in earnest.
He squatted in the back courtyard, near the stove in the kitchen, pulling things out of the wooden cabinet. He lifted the old cloth covering the bottom layer and took out several clay jars. Inside were black sesame seeds that had been steamed, sun-dried, and ground into powder a few days ago. Sesame powder spoils easily when exposed to moisture, and loses its flavor. It must be kept dry and lightly roasted to preserve its rich aroma.
As he busied himself with the sesame jars, Ji Hong quietly entered from behind, moving like a cat and startling Yu Jinnian. He almost dropped the jar, but quickly propped it up with his knee, letting out a sigh of relief. “Why are you up already? Feeling better?”
Ji Hong took the jar from his hands and set it on the counter. “I don’t know, but I suddenly feel a bit uncomfortable in my chest, so I thought I’d come ask you to check it out.”
He smiled, his face pale but rosy, breathing steadily—hardly the look of someone with chest discomfort. Yu Jinnian snorted, immediately exposing his lie. “I think it’s your appetite that’s uncomfortable, and you’re here for my bamboo shoots stir-fried with pork!” Though he said that, he playfully shook his head, flipping his bangs back, and tiptoed to touch Ji Hong’s forehead with his own.
Both hands were clean, ready to handle sesame, so instead of washing them again, he used his forehead to measure Ji Hong’s temperature.
Their noses brushed, and they were so close that neither could see the other’s face clearly. All they could see were each other’s starry, moon-like eyes. Ji Hong suddenly had a fleeting, irrational desire to fall sick again, just to receive more of the boy’s unique care. But that was only a thought—reality, unfortunately, had other plans. After checking his temperature, Yu Jinnian said confidently, “Hmm, you shouldn’t have a fever anymore.”
Ji Hong wanted to say something else, but fake servant and real guard Duan Ming came in carrying a stack of empty bowls and plates. He was carrying them in a way that, to Yu Jinnian, looked like a circus act. He held his arms out flat, balancing a row of plates, with more stacked on top. There were at least twenty or thirty dishes in total, making Yu Jinnian gape in amazement. His attention was immediately drawn to Duan Ming’s act, and he excitedly asked for tips on how to balance the plates.
Duan Ming, oblivious to the fact that he’d interrupted a moment between his master and Yu Jinnian, humbly began teaching him the technique, even mentioning how he used to run a blacksmith’s shop.
Seeing the two chatting so animatedly, seemingly forgetting his existence, Ji Hong quietly picked up a bowl, trying to imitate the balancing act. But after just three plates, they started to wobble, and knowing he’d embarrass himself if they fell, he gave up.
Meanwhile, Yu Jinnian kept talking as he set the pot to boil honey. It was jujube honey, specially bought the day before for its thicker consistency, making it ideal for simmering.
There are different stages to boiling honey—light honey, medium honey, and thick honey, depending on how much water is evaporated during the process. The different stages are used to blend with various medicinal powders. Yu Jinnian poured a small basin of the jujube honey into the pot and brought it to a boil, stirring constantly with chopsticks until the bubbles that formed were small and uniform, and the sound of them popping grew deeper. The honey also changed color from bright milky white to a rich amber.
This was medium honey.
He poured the boiled honey into a bowl of sesame powder, mixing it until it was evenly blended, much like kneading dough. But in this case, there was an extra step: pounding the mixture with a wooden mallet to make it denser.
After that, Yu Jinnian smeared some sesame oil on his hands and sat down to start rolling the mixture into pills.
Ji Hong, having washed his hands, sat across from him to help. “What kind of food is this?” he asked.
Worried that Ji Hong, having just recovered, might catch a chill from sitting in the draft, Yu Jinnian moved him closer to the stove for warmth. Smiling, he replied, “This is medicine for the Fifth Miss of the Yan family.”
Ji Hong was curious. “Just sesame as the only ingredient, and it can be used as medicine?”
“Normally, no,” Yu Jinnian shook his head theatrically as he quickly rolled out several shiny black sesame balls, each barely larger than the tip of a finger, just the right size for a refined young lady to swallow in one bite. “But for the Fifth Miss, it’s enough.”
Ji Hong, though familiar with medicine and having read a few medical books, was far less knowledgeable than Yu Jinnian when it came to the art of healing. He didn’t quite understand what the young man meant, but since Yu Jinnian was so confident, there was no need for anyone else to worry on his behalf.
So, he contentedly picked up a sesame ball.
He was skilled in seal carving and painting, so his handiwork was quite delicate. After glancing at the sesame balls Yu Jinnian had made, he quickly rolled out ones of nearly the same size and placed them together. They were perfectly round and shiny, like twins.
Finding it dull to roll the balls alone, Yu Jinnian said, “Ah Hong, why don’t you tell me about your childhood?”
“…,” Ji Hong thought for a long time before finally replying, “I spent most of my time at home reading and practicing calligraphy when I was young. Nothing particularly interesting happened.”
“Not even one thing?” Yu Jinnian tilted his head slightly, looking at him as though he were witnessing something rare. He wasn’t deliberately questioning Ji Hong, but he found it hard to believe that someone could grow up without experiencing at least one joyful event.
Seeing Yu Jinnian’s genuine curiosity, Ji Hong searched his memory and finally recalled something, saying, “When I was ten, it was spring, and the snow had just melted. The plum trees in the courtyard bloomed. Out of nowhere, a yellow oriole, confused by the season, flew in and landed on the brush rack by the window, pecking at the snacks on the table.”
Yu Jinnian: “…”
Ji Hong: “…”
After waiting for a while and hearing no continuation, Yu Jinnian blinked, wanting to ask, “Is that all?” But remembering the mess that was Ji Hong’s family, although he hadn’t heard all the details, he knew enough—his mother had no status or position, his second brother had passed away, his father was distant, and his stepmother didn’t love him. Although he seemed noble, he was essentially living like a guest in his own home. No wonder a small event like a bird stealing food had stuck with him for so many years. Yu Jinnian swallowed his ill-timed question and instead asked, “And then? What happened to the bird?”
“…It flew away,” Ji Hong said indifferently.
He didn’t specify when or why the bird flew away, just the vague statement “It flew away.” Yet somehow, Yu Jinnian understood. He closed his mouth and didn’t ask further, but his hands slowed as he pondered Ji Hong’s seemingly uneventful childhood.
Ji Hong also felt the story was dull, and the two of them fell into a rare silence. No one spoke for a while, the only sound being the bubbling of water on the stove.
The bamboo tray was already filled with many glossy black sesame balls, and Yu Jinnian’s hands smelled fragrant. He rolled another one, round and smooth, and playfully popped it into Ji Hong’s mouth. “Eat a few more of these; they’re good for the kidneys and the hair. They’ll prolong your life and keep you light and healthy.” As he slipped the ball into Ji Hong’s mouth, he casually added, “There will be plenty of good things to come in the future!”
Ji Hong chewed the sesame ball, the rich aroma filling his throat. As he swallowed, he felt as though his entire body became fragrant. Savoring the sesame flavor, he realized Yu Jinnian was trying to comfort him, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the boy. He thought to himself: Isn’t that true? The best thing that ever happened was stumbling into this water town and, by chance, meeting a little thief stealing osmanthus flowers.
What could be better than this?
What could be more interesting?
Yu Jinnian noticed Ji Hong’s expression soften, which made him happy as well. He quickly rolled out more sesame balls, and soon the bamboo tray was filled. Even though Ji Hong wasn’t familiar with medicine, he furrowed his brow and asked, “Is the Fifth Miss of the Yan family so ill that she needs this many sesame…medicines?”
Only then did Yu Jinnian realize that they had indeed made too many. Not only were there enough for the Fifth Miss, but even after setting aside some for Ji Hong, there were still plenty left.
With a clever idea, Yu Jinnian changed his method. He spread the remaining sesame paste on an oiled cutting board, rolling it out evenly with a rolling pin until it was thin and flat. Then, he cut it into small squares, placing a peanut in the center of each one, and had Ji Hong help him roll them up one by one.
The rolled sesame treats were then coated in roasted soybean flour, and with that, they were done!
The black sesame skin, wrapped around red, unshelled peanuts, and dusted with light yellow roasted soybean powder, looked enticing. Yu Jinnian picked one up and took a bite. The first taste was soft and chewy, but as he bit into the center, the peanut added a satisfying crunch. Thanks to the coating of soybean flour, it wasn’t sticky at all. It was truly a treat with three different textures and flavors, so delicious it was hard to stop eating.
Ji Hong ate two as well and gave them high praise.
This batch of sesame rolls was meant for selling. Yu Jinnian took some oiled paper and cut it into appropriate sizes, asking Ji Hong to draw designs on each sheet. The design was naturally the small bowl shape that Ji Hong had thought of earlier. Ji Hong drew until his hand was sore, and as he put down the pen, he rubbed his wrist, grumbling for once, “Next time, I’ll just carve a stamp to save all this trouble.”
Yu Jinnian had been waiting for him to say that. Immediately, he hooked pinkies with Ji Hong to seal the deal, then gleefully ran off to wrap the sesame rolls. Since sesame is a delicate ingredient, and these treats were made with special honey, they naturally commanded a higher price. So, each sheet of paper would only wrap six rolls—six being an auspicious number, making them more appealing to buyers.
The sesame honey pills were left to dry overnight before being sent to the Yan residence.
Earlier, Yu Jinnian had claimed that sesame alone could cure Yan Yuyao’s illness. But the real cure wasn’t the sesame—it was the skill of the physician. Yu Jinnian had treated similar cases before, though with different symptoms, so he hadn’t been able to diagnose her immediately. It wasn’t until the day he was splashed with dirty water that inspiration struck him. After mulling it over for a few days, he realized that the Fifth Miss always fell ill whenever the topic of marriage came up. This only solidified his conclusion.
Yan Yuyao’s illness was unique, even though it was referred to as an illness.
She suffered from hysterical pain and hysterical blindness. There was nothing physically wrong with her body; the problem was entirely in her mind. Yu Jinnian had once joked with colleagues that this illness was like someone hypnotizing themselves—it was truly a case of “self-deception,” where even the brain believed the person was ill.
So the pain was real, the blindness was real, and she genuinely suffered from the torment. But in truth, it was all suffering she brought upon herself—showing just how incredible humans can be.
Curing this illness was both easy and difficult. The key was psychological therapy: the patient’s strong trust in the physician, the easing of mental distress, and the addition of some placebo-like remedies. It was more like the work of a shaman than a doctor.
Yu Jinnian packed the sesame honey pills into a pristine snow-white gourd medicine bottle, cleaning it meticulously. A red tassel was tied to the gourd’s cap, making it look just like an elixir from a mythical realm. He was about to head to the Yan residence, and Ji Hong insisted on accompanying him. Since Ji Hong had recovered, Yu Jinnian thought it would be good for him to get some fresh air and movement, so he bundled Ji Hong up warmly, as if carrying a precious treasure, wrapping him snugly.
When they arrived at the Yan residence, if it hadn’t been for Ji Hong’s strikingly handsome head, Yan Rong would have almost failed to recognize the bulky figure as the son of Duke Li.
It was only early winter, yet Ji Hong was already dressed so heavily. When the snow fell, wouldn’t he freeze to death? Could it be that the third young master of the Ji family was already this frail? Yan Rong glanced at Yu Jinnian, who looked radiant and full of energy, and suddenly felt a tinge of sympathy. Old men nearing the end of their days probably all liked things that shone brightly—just like his own grandfather, who had loved to sit by a cage of beautiful golden finches and bask in the sun before he passed away.
It seemed understandable that Ji Hong would be fond of a bright, sunny boy like Yu Jinnian, much like a finch or the rising sun.
Ji Hong, flushed from being bundled up, followed Yu Jinnian to the backyard, where Yu Jinnian went to attend to the patient. Meanwhile, Yan Rong arranged for Ji Hong to rest in the sitting room with tea, treating him with the utmost care.
“Lord Yan seems troubled?” Ji Hong asked.
Yan Rong sat beside him, holding a teacup. The steam had long dissipated, leaving the tea cold, yet he was still staring absentmindedly at the crooked tea leaves inside. When Ji Hong spoke, he snapped out of his daze, realizing Ji Hong’s cup was empty. He quickly called for more tea, offering the finest Junshan Silver Needle, with its silver-white down and golden-green buds, rising and falling three times in the cup.
Ji Hong’s pale fingers stroked the green porcelain cup. He still didn’t have much affection for Yan Rong, but because Yan Rong had provided the wine that brought him closer to Yu Jinnian, Ji Hong’s heart felt sweet. Out of respect for that, he softened his previously cold demeanor toward Yan Rong.
However, Yan Rong seemed listless, too uninterested to flatter the third young master of the Ji family, nor did he bother with pleasantries. He simply replied, “The worries of the world weigh on me. It’s just that a letter hasn’t been returned, and I feel anxious.”
They exchanged a few idle words, while in the next room, Yu Jinnian was busy treating the patient with his gourd of medicine pills.
Yan Yuyao had improved significantly, and the memories of past events were slowly returning to her. When she saw Yu Jinnian, she even managed a faint smile, though her voice was hoarse, as if she had been crying recently. The maids around her were all on edge, fearing that their mistress, who had once suffered so much pain and even gone blind, might endure further torment as she recovered.
Unexpectedly, Yu Jinnian only took out three golden needles from his kit. After briefly sterilizing them in the candle flame, he deftly inserted one into each of her hands at the tiger’s mouth points and the last into her forehead, drawing a single drop of blood. He muttered a few mysterious words under his breath, words no one could understand, and then used that drop of blood to dot her forehead, leaving a bright red mark that looked like a beauty mark between her brows.
After this ritualistic treatment, Yu Jinnian picked up the gourd medicine bottle and said, “These pills are your medicine. Take one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one at night. Within three days, your headaches will be gone. In seven days, your sight will begin to return. In another seven days, your blindness will be completely cured.”
He deliberately extended the timeline for recovery to make the illness seem more challenging to treat, thereby increasing the credibility of the cure.
Overjoyed, Yan Yuyao wept tears of gratitude. Her dark, lifeless eyes searched for Yu Jinnian. “I trust your words, little divine doctor. When my eyes are healed, I will come to your shop to see what you look like.”
Yu Jinnian, embarrassed, took out the gold-embroidered silver toothpick she had given him earlier and admitted, “I wasn’t able to deliver this. I sent someone to look for him…but we didn’t find him.” He added, “Fifth Miss should also put your mind at ease. I noticed something odd about Lord Yan today. It seems like he’s up to something. When I came in earlier, I saw him sending a servant boy to the southern part of the city with a letter.”
Yan Yuyao nodded, looking slightly downcast. She seemed resigned yet unwilling to fully accept her fate.
The room was quiet, and a maid hurriedly gave the Fifth Miss a “medicine” pill to stop her from dwelling on troubling thoughts. As Yan Yuyao savored the sweet taste, she couldn’t help but praise Yu Jinnian’s skill, marveling at how even the medicine he made was delicious, unlike that of ordinary doctors.
Yu Jinnian, of course, couldn’t tell her that it was just a placebo. Maintaining his mystique, he said, “Don’t be fooled by its sweetness—the medicine is very potent! If you eat too much, it could knock out a bull!”
Yan Yuyao was amused, covering her mouth as she smiled, looking more like a carefree young girl of her age.
After reminding her of the proper way to take the medicine, Yu Jinnian went to the front hall to find Ji Hong. The door to the small sitting room was half-open, and Ji Hong, not needing any of Yu Jinnian’s attention, was quietly sitting behind the door, shielded from the wind, peacefully sipping his tea. Just as Yu Jinnian stepped through the door, a gust of wind kicked up behind him, and before he could turn around, a servant boy rushed past and collided with him.
Staggering a few steps, Yu Jinnian saw Yan Rong take a letter from the boy. After reading it, Yan Rong slumped into a chair, covering his face with his hands, muttering, “I was wrong. I made a mistake…”
The corner of the letter hung down, revealing the last line written in bold, powerful strokes, yet the words were gentle and tender: “Through life, death, sickness, and health, we shall share all joys and sorrows, and I will protect you for life.”
The signature was a single word: “Cao.”
As they left the Yan residence, the sky turned overcast, and a sudden wind arose.
Ji Hong, bundled up in layers, walked ahead, already sweating beneath his collar. Just as they exited the alley where the Yan family lived, he realized Yu Jinnian had fallen behind. Turning around, he saw the boy standing under a withered tree at the mouth of the alley, looking up at the sky.
Clouds drifted by, the sun shrouded in a hazy gray, yet Yu Jinnian’s eyes sparkled, bright as translucent amber or crystal glass.
Ji Hong stopped in his tracks, calling out from a distance, “Why aren’t you walking? What are you thinking about?”
Yu Jinnian stared at a patch of white clouds, elongated by the wild wind, soon to be swept away and replaced by a blanket of gloomy gray. His heart swayed in the wind, just like those clouds. What was he thinking? He was thinking about something not entirely honorable—about tying someone down, using whatever means necessary, whether fair or foul, gentle or forceful. Even if he was cursed, spat on, and rejected, he wouldn’t easily give up.
It seemed that the matter with Cao’s promise had shaken him, like a bird startled by the twang of a bowstring. He couldn’t help but wonder if he and Ji Hong were truly suited for each other.
Yu Jinnian had never been in a romantic relationship, let alone with a man. This was his first experience, and he wasn’t sure if it felt right. But he knew one thing: Ji Hong was cold on the outside, but once you melted through, he was sweet like sugar. Yu Jinnian had painstakingly chipped away at the icy shell, and now that he had exposed some of that sweetness, he wasn’t about to let anyone else enjoy it. He wasn’t Cao Nuo; he wouldn’t allow anyone to swoop in and claim his sugar. Even if it choked him, he’d stuff it all into his own mouth.
Ji Hong was still looking at him, unhurried and calm.
Yu Jinnian stood there and stretched out his arms, silently asking for a hug.
It seemed to be a regular occurrence: whenever Yu Jinnian felt drained, all he had to do was extend his arms, and Ji Hong would scoop him up without a word—from the ground, the bed, the chair. This time was no different. Ji Hong walked over, picked him up, and wrapped him tightly in his arms.
With a smile, Ji Hong asked, “What’s wrong?”
Yu Jinnian buried his face against Ji Hong’s thickly padded shoulder, rubbing his chin against it. They stood beneath a withered tree, its bare branches intertwining with them, shielding them from view. Yu Jinnian tugged at Ji Hong’s collar, brushing away a strand of hair from his face, and leaned in to bite him, leaving Ji Hong’s lips flushed, as red as a pomegranate. Ji Hong, leaning against the dead tree, had no leaves to hide them, and the gnarled shadows of the branches cast across their faces, cutting between their lips like a flower being shared.
Yan Rong came running out to catch up with Yu Jinnian, holding a deer leg in his hand. At this time of year, deer were hard to come by, but he had been lucky enough to get two from an old hunter in desperate need of money. One was set aside for Yan Yuyao’s recovery, and the other was intended as a thank-you gift for Yu Jinnian. But as he stepped through the side door, he was shocked to see the two of them kissing fearlessly under the withered tree. He was dumbfounded, his face burning as though it had been steamed.
Though Yan Rong disapproved, his first reaction wasn’t to scold. Instead, he instinctively glanced toward the alley, afraid someone else might see this springtime scene in the middle of winter.
The sight of the two of them, he mused, might just bring new life to that long-dead tree. His mind wandered—was kissing really that wonderful? He’d never tried it before and found himself curious. But in a flash, he snapped out of it, horrified at his own improper thoughts. He muttered a hasty “Amitabha” under his breath and, turning quickly, walked straight into the doorframe.
“Shall we go home?” Ji Hong, his breath a little ragged, leaned close, barely containing his desire. He didn’t care if it meant getting sick again.
Yu Jinnian, full of good intentions, refused. “No, I won’t indulge you. You’ve already forgotten how much you suffered last time.”
He was referring to the time Ji Hong had gotten sick after drinking too much and behaving recklessly. Ji Hong, embarrassed by the indirect scolding, had no rebuttal. Yu Jinnian’s rejection made him feel like a wandering rogue, and he had no choice but to restrain himself. They both caught their breath, wound their way through the streets, and headed to the jewelry shop to pick up the pendant.
When they arrived, the shopkeeper had changed. The older man from last time was gone, replaced by a shrewd-looking young man who introduced himself as the shopkeeper’s son. He was young and charming, likely no older than Yu Jinnian, and within the short time they were in the store, he had already sweet-talked several wives and mothers into buying bracelets and earrings.
When their order arrived, the young man personally opened the box for Yu Jinnian, explaining the details of each item. Then, catching sight of Ji Hong, he exaggerated, “Oh my! What a handsome young master! This kind of beauty is as rare as a celestial being visiting the mortal world!”
Ji Hong, used to all kinds of flattery, ignored him, while Yu Jinnian paid him no mind. Undeterred by their silence, the young man continued to praise Ji Hong with metaphors of white jade and heavenly cranes until he finally realized he was dealing with a tough crowd.
Yu Jinnian examined a pair of pearl earrings closely, but suddenly winced in pain.
Immediately, Ji Hong grabbed his hand and asked, “What happened?”
Yu Jinnian shook his head. “It’s nothing. I accidentally pricked myself with the earring hook.”
The young man, realizing these two were wealthy and not to be overlooked, was racking his brain for how to engage them further. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he rushed behind the counter to retrieve a long, rectangular box. He opened it with a snap in front of Yu Jinnian, sitting across from him as if they were old friends. “Young master, look at this jade hairpin! It’s top-quality white jade, just look at how smooth and flawless it is. There’s not a single imperfection. Jade matches a person’s character, and this would be the perfect complement to your noble beauty!”
Yu Jinnian glanced at it, touched it, and just as the young man was about to name a price with a grin, Yu Jinnian shook his head and put it back. “No, not this one. It’s not good enough.”
The young man nearly laughed out loud in disbelief. If this wasn’t good, then what was? There was nothing better for miles around!
But such is business: if there’s a connection, you make the deal; if not, you don’t.
Smiling, he saw them out. Afterward, he dusted off the counter, swept the floor, and polished a few of the shop’s prized items before locking them back in the display cases. The wind was picking up, and the sky had darkened to an inky blue, heavy with the promise of rain. Just as he was about to close the shop, he spotted a figure running through the wind, clutching a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
“Shopkeeper, I want to buy some jade from you, the white kind.”
The person, still shivering from the cold, unwrapped the cloth and laid out two silver ingots.
The young man looked up, and to his surprise, it was the same boy from earlier—the one who had scoffed at the shop’s goods, saying they weren’t good enough.