Young Master Qin ultimately did not manage to go on foot; he was persuaded to take the carriage, and learned that his mother had already gone ahead to see Lady Cheng.
Madam Chen had sent someone to inform them that Lady Cheng was able to receive guests today.
When Madam Qin arrived at the Chen residence and met with Madam Chen, the two women said nothing at first—only tears fell silently.
“There, there, this is a good thing. Don’t cry,” Madam Chen said, wiping away her tears. “At long last, the knot in your heart has been untied. The Bodhisattvas and Buddhas have heard your prayers.”
But Madam Qin only wept more bitterly.
“Fourteen years, sister… fourteen years…” she cried, repeating the words again and again.
Madam Chen could not hold back either. The two embraced and wept in sorrow.
The maids in the room also shed tears for a moment, before beginning to comfort them one by one. After much difficulty, the ladies were soothed, and the maids brought in brass basins, hand towels, and the dressing case.
“But,” Madam Qin said as she powdered her face, suddenly turning to Madam Chen, “you still don’t favor me as much as before.”
Madam Chen paused for a moment, smoothing a loose strand of hair at her temple before smiling in response.
“I only said that because I knew you two would never truly fall out,” she replied.
“But what if we really do?” Madam Qin pressed, carefully affixing a delicate dragonfly-wing hairpin to her hair.
“Lady Cheng isn’t that kind of person,” Madam Chen said. “She’s the most grateful and kind-hearted soul—always repaying kindness with kindness.”
Madam Qin studied her, then dipped a finger into a jade-green cosmetic tube to dab on some rouge.
“Well, now I know for sure—in your heart, I’ll never measure up to her,” she remarked.
“Aren’t you a little old to be jealous like a child?” Madam Chen teased with a laugh.
“Today, I finally get to see just what kind of silver-tongued figure could steal your affection and outwit my son in a war of words,” Madam Qin said, rising to her feet with a smile.
Madam Chen shook her head.
“You’re mistaken—she’s actually the least talkative person,” she said, laughing as she stood up as well.
Madam Qin shot her a skeptical glance, clearly unconvinced.
The carriage stopped in front of the Yudai Bridge.
Upon hearing that Madam Chen had arrived, the maid personally came out to greet them.
“My mistress knew you would be coming today and instructed us to welcome you, but she is still resting. Please wait a moment,” she said, ushering the two women into the hall to sit.
“Has she been exhausted?” Madam Chen asked with concern.
Having previously witnessed Cheng Jiao-niang’s habits while treating Old Master Chen at home, Madam Chen was already familiar with her ways.
The maid nodded, then glanced at Madam Qin.
“Are you here to deliver the consultation fee?” she asked.
Madam Qin smiled and waved her hand.
A maid promptly stepped forward, pushing forward a small box.
“Having heard a little of the lady’s rules, this is twenty thousand strings of cash—payment for saving a life,” Madam Qin said.
The maid reached out, took the box, and opened it, her expression faltering slightly in surprise.
“Another twenty thousand is the fee for treating the injured leg,” Madam Qin added with a smile.
The maid bowed in thanks and put the box away.
When Ban Qin brought in the tea, footsteps were heard from inside.
“Miss is awake,” the maidservant said, rising to her feet and hurrying over.
Madam Qin looked up, but no one emerged from behind the curtain—only the faint silhouette of a lady could be seen.
“Please wait a little longer, ladies, while I make myself presentable for guests.”
A slightly husky lady’s voice carried over.
“Take your time,” Madam Chen replied warmly.
Silence fell inside, broken only by the soft rustling of fabric.
Madam Chen quietly urged Madam Qin to try the tea.
Distractedly, Madam Qin took a sip—then paused in surprise.
“Quite delicious,” she remarked, “though a bit mild.”
Madam Chen, who hadn’t visited often, also quickly took a sip.
“Is this a new tea?” she asked Ban Qin beside her.
“Yes. Now that we have our own tea trees at home, Miss made some herself a few days ago,” Ban Qin explained.
“Such a talented lady,” Madam Qin remarked.
As they chatted idly, the curtain was drawn aside. Madam Qin looked up and was momentarily taken aback by the sight of a pale, expressionless face.
“Jiao-niang,” Madam Chen called, gesturing toward Madam Qin, “this is Madam Qin, mother of the Shi’san-lang.”
Madam Qin studied the lady, who returned her gaze steadily.
Upon closer inspection, her delicate nose and refined features revealed a quiet beauty. Yet her face remained eerily blank, devoid of warmth, making it difficult to feel any sense of familiarity.
“Madam Qin has come to deliver the consultation fee,” the maid interjected with a light cough.
The words snapped Madam Qin out of her brief distraction. She straightened, composing herself, then bowed deeply in a formal salute.
“Many thanks for your life-saving grace,” she said.
The lady before her showed neither fluster nor discomfort, accepting the gesture with calm dignity. She sat down and returned the courtesy—but said nothing.
“This incident truly frightened us. The distress over a loved one made us act out of line,” Madam Qin continued. “If we have offended in any way, we hope you can forgive us.”
“There was no offense,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Madam Qin paused, realizing the young lady truly had no intention of saying more, and so she pressed on herself.
“Your divine skill has healed my son—something countless renowned doctors failed to do over the years. I had nearly given up hope in this lifetime,” she said, tears welling up again. “My lady, we truly don’t know how to thank you.”
“The consultation fee is enough,” Cheng Jiao-niang answered.
Was this how conversations with her went?
Madam Qin wiped her tears and looked at the impassive young lady before her, who had spoken barely a dozen words since entering. For someone usually so eloquent, she suddenly found herself at a loss for words.
She had arrived with a heart full of emotion—gratitude she’d rehearsed for days and nights. Yet faced with this woman, all those prepared words seemed to vanish.
The young lady sat there, silent and unreadable, her detached demeanor inexplicably making Madam Qin feel restrained… nervous, even.
How absurd, she thought. Given her own status—whose daughter she was, whose family she had married into—it had always been others who grew uneasy in her presence. Why should she feel this strange tension before a girl young enough to be her daughter?
Perhaps it was simply the weight of gratitude.
She had sworn to herself: Whoever heals my son, I will venerate them like a deity for the rest of my days.
And before a deity, wasn’t it only natural—only right—to feel reverence, restraint, even awe? There was no shame in that.
“You must still be angry about our offense?” Madam Qin asked bluntly.
“No,” Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head. “It’s only human nature—not excessive.”
“See, you were overthinking it,” Madam Chen said with a laugh, then turned back to Cheng Jiao-niang. “Besides expressing gratitude today, we also wanted to ask if there’s anything else Shi’san-lang needs to be mindful of?”
“Just finish the remaining bottle of medicine. That will be enough,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
“That’s all?” Madam Qin asked, surprised. “But his leg has been crippled for over a decade…”
“The illness itself isn’t the issue. It’s just that after so many years, there were too many mental barriers. Now that they’re cleared, proper recuperation is all that’s needed,” Cheng Jiao-niang explained.
Mental barriers?
“My son has always been open-minded—how could he have mental barriers?” Madam Qin pressed anxiously.
“How could anyone not have them, facing something like this?” Cheng Jiao-niang countered.
Madam Qin froze. Yes… how could anyone remain unaffected by such a thing?
So that was it. Pain leads to release; no pain, no release.
The room fell into silence.
No one seemed to know what to say.
There was little left to discuss about the illness, and as for casual conversation—one glance at the young lady’s expression drained all desire for small talk…
“Then you should rest well. We’ll take our leave first,” Madam Chen said decisively, rising to depart.
The young lady offered no attempt to keep them, leaving Madam Qin no choice but to stand and bid farewell as well.
Once seated in the carriage, Madam Qin unconsciously pressed a hand to her chest.
“This Lady Cheng is truly… fascinating,” she remarked.
Madam Chen pursed her lips in amusement.
“Speak your mind plainly. Though I favor her, I’m not so fragile as to bristle at a few critical words,” she said.
Madam Qin chuckled and lifted the carriage curtain to glance back at the residence gate.
“Someone so peculiar, yet my son actually claims she’s wonderful?” she remarked.
“Your son has his own quirks too,” Madam Chen replied with a laugh.
Madam Qin gazed outside, then suddenly pressed her lips together in a smile.
“Then wouldn’t eccentricity pair perfectly with eccentricity?” she mused.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Haven’t I told you? If you want your son’s legs healed, don’t entertain other ideas,” Madam Chen said knowingly, amused. “This lady has her rules when it comes to healing.”
“I’m aware—house calls only, no treatment unless it’s life-threatening,” Madam Qin said.
“There’s another,” Madam Chen added. “No marriage alliances with families she’s treated.”
Madam Qin turned to her in surprise.
“No marriages with families she’s healed? You told her that?” she asked.
“She declared it,” Madam Chen clarified.
Madam Qin studied her silently.
“Fine, yes—I tested it myself and was firmly turned away,” Madam Chen admitted, patting her shoulder with a wry laugh.
Only then did Madam Qin nod in understanding. She turned back to look outside.
“Then… my foolish son is truly out of luck,” she murmured.
Madam Chen followed her gaze. There, standing at Cheng Jiao-niang’s gate, was Qin Shi’san.
Bathed in sunlight, the young man’s face glowed with a brilliant smile, his eyes alight—overflowing with expectation, excitement, exhilaration, and unrestrained joy.
“Look—look!”
He strode through the gate, came to a halt in the courtyard, and waved off the servant supporting him as he called out loudly.
Under the veranda, Cheng Jiao-niang turned her gaze toward him.
“See?” Young Master Qin smiled at her, spreading his arms and slowly turning in a full circle. “Though you already knew the outcome, I still wanted you to see it for yourself—to witness it firsthand. This is your achievement.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him, nodded, and gave a quiet “Mm.”
“About Liu-lang’s matter… I hope you won’t hold it against him,” Young Master Qin said, taking a few steps forward.
Cheng Jiao-niang continued to watch him silently.
“Wrong, wrong,” Young Master Qin quickly corrected himself with a laugh, raising his hands. “My legs are healed, but my mind’s gone dull—spouting nonsense. How could you possibly blame him? It’s all just needless worry.”
The young lady before him remained wordless.
Qin Shi’san suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Something felt… different.
“I never realized you were treating my condition all along. You were right—I’m truly good at pretending,” he said with another laugh, taking a few more deliberate steps forward. “I cared deeply about my leg, about how others saw me, yet I acted as if it meant nothing, as if I were untouched by it. I pretended so well I even fooled myself.”
“That’s only human nature. Nothing strange about it,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Hearing her respond, Young Master Qin’s smile deepened.
“The moment I woke, it all came to me—I understood everything,” he said, advancing another step. “Now that I’m healed, is there anything you’d like? I know you enjoy tea. Besides Puxiu Temple, there are several other places with fine tea trees…”
“Tea from anywhere in the capital tastes the same. One source is enough,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, shaking her head.
“Not true,” Qin Shi’san countered. “Even within the capital, there are differences between the south and north of the city. Why not let me take you to see for yourself?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Qin Shi’san let out an “Oh,” but quickly smiled again.
“Then is there anything else I should be mindful of? Diet, movement—whether to walk more or take it slow?” he asked.
“No,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Just live as anyone would.”
Qin Shi’san nodded, cheerfully patting his leg.
“Still feels a bit unfamiliar,” he remarked.
Cheng Jiao-niang gave a faint “Mm” and said no more.
The courtyard fell into silence once more.
“Well then, if there’s nothing else, I won’t disturb you further,” Qin Shi’san said.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and returned his bow.
Qin Shi’san hesitated for a moment before allowing his servant to help him turn toward the gate. After a few steps, he paused and looked back.
The young lady stood quietly beneath the veranda, unmoving.
“Lady Cheng,” he asked, “back then—the way we treated each other, all those words you said to me, so many words… was that all just part of treating my illness?”
Cheng Jiao-niang met his gaze.
“What else would it be?” she replied.
