BMN : Chapter 37

In late spring and early summer, Doctor Fang finally returned to the capital. After visiting the charity home, he hurried to the rural farmstead to check on Fu Ming’s condition. As Doctor Fang took his pulse for a long time, Lu Fei and Wanlan anxiously watched him, waiting for his diagnosis. When he finally released Fu Ming’s wrist, he sighed and said, “It’s often said that illness comes like a landslide but departs like a trickle. In truth, illness is like a flood; its recovery is like draining that flood. I wanted to hold back the flood and gradually let it recede. But, alas, the flood cannot be held back forever, and if the draining process is too slow, it will only worsen. My skills are lacking, and you, you’re just too weak-willed!”

Lu Fei and Wanlan didn’t fully understand his words, but they grasped the general idea, and their faces turned pale with worry.

Doctor Fang looked at them, blowing on his newly grown beard, and asked, “What’s this? Are you two girls also sick?”

Lu Fei urgently responded, “Doctor Fang, this is no time for jokes. What exactly is wrong with our master, and what should we do?”

Fu Ming glanced at them and gestured for them to calm down. He answered Lu Fei’s question himself, “When Doctor Fang says ‘the flood cannot be held back forever,’ he means that my illness can’t be treated gently anymore, right? If the treatment is too slow, not only will I not recover, but the situation will worsen.”

Doctor Fang nodded. “If delayed, it could drag on for three to five years or even longer, but you certainly don’t want to feel weak and sickly all the time. So, we need to treat the root cause.”

“How do we treat the root?” Wanlan asked.

“I know my illness well,” Fu Ming said. “It’s been long-standing, and the disease has penetrated deep into my marrow. Treating the root cause would undoubtedly involve risks, right?”

Doctor Fang’s expression turned serious. “You’re right; you do have some self-awareness. Treating the root cause requires strong medicine. If the treatment works, great, but there’s a chance that your body won’t be able to withstand the treatment, leading to a worst-case scenario. I don’t want to sugarcoat this; you need to be clear-eyed. The decision to prolong the condition or treat it aggressively is up to you.”

“I expected this,” Fu Ming smiled. “Let’s go for the aggressive treatment.” He had endured enough suffering, and he wasn’t willing to spend the next few years, or longer, in even worse condition. He was ready to gamble on his life, betting on either survival or death.

Having made up his mind, Doctor Fang truly settled in and began the preliminary treatments to address the root cause of Fu Ming’s illness. Lu Fei and Wanlan devoted themselves to caring for him, willing to give their own life essence to concoct medicine, hoping their master could survive this ordeal.

Fu Ming’s periods of wakefulness became shorter and shorter. Each time he woke from a deep sleep, he mustered the energy to write a letter—to Zhou Chengyan, to Tao Yang, to Qing Sun, to Sun Zangyong, to Yan Le… Then he entrusted these letters to Lu Fei, instructing her that if he didn’t survive, she should deliver them to their recipients.

The final letter was addressed to Jin Yi: “If he ever comes here to find me, give it to him. If he doesn’t, then burn it after a year.”

With everything arranged, Fu Ming took the medicine handed to him by Doctor Fang without hesitation. He then lay down, allowing Doctor Fang to insert silver needles into his body. The needles penetrated, but he felt nothing, only a heavy drowsiness pulling him into a deep, seemingly bottomless sleep.

As spring gave way to summer, the withered flowers on the ground had decayed into soil. The Jin household began sending additional betrothal gifts to the Zhou family. A proper wife required different customs than a concubine, and the ceremony couldn’t be taken lightly. The Zhou family also prepared more dowry items for the bride-to-be.

The two households were bustling, and curious outsiders often inquired about the happenings. However, this bustle and gossip seemed irrelevant to Jin Yi. He poured himself into his work, becoming even more diligent and hardworking, earning increasing praise from the Emperor and the favor of the third prince.

Every evening, he would still visit the matriarch to pay his respects. Yet, the conversations between the two grew sparse. The matriarch worried about his well-being but consoled herself, thinking that time would heal. She believed that the arrival of Zhou Wanqing would surely reopen Jin Yi’s heart.

No one in the household mentioned Fu Ming, except for Zhao Yan. People often say that children are forgetful, but sometimes, at night, when Jin Yi visited Zhao Yan’s room, the child would wake from a dream and murmur, “Dad, why didn’t the other dad come to see me with you?” Yet during the day, Zhao Yan never spoke such words in front of others.

The matriarch thought as she did, and even Jin Yi wanted to forget, believed he could forget, that they all would forget.

As summer deepened, it seemed the Jin household had finally turned a corner. Jin Yi was promoted, prompting another round of celebrations.

He had sworn never to step foot in Peach Blossom Courtyard again. But in his drunken state, he forgot everything. His steps seemed uncontrollable, leading him to the courtyard illuminated only by moonlight.

The sound of the gate opening startled the roosting crows, causing them to take flight. Jin Yi, with blurred vision, followed the sound and saw a white object on the branches, like a solitary flower blooming in the moonlight.

He walked over and plucked it, finding it to be a handkerchief, one he recognized. It was the same one used to wipe his sweat, but now it bore a dark stain. Frowning, he walked to the pond, intending to wash away the mark. As he rubbed the handkerchief in the water, a faint scent of blood reached his nose.

Jin Yi paused, suddenly feeling more awake. He stared at the handkerchief, still marked with bloodstains, and remembered that absurd dream. He recalled the figure waiting under the tree that evening.

Could it be that he had really been there? That the dream wasn’t a dream? Since they had parted ways, why had he returned? What had happened that night? Had the handkerchief been left behind by him? But why was it stained with blood?

Jin Yi stood by the pond for a long time, lost in thought, his head throbbing. Eventually, he let out a self-mocking laugh, as if ridiculing his own inability to let go. The feeling of hope followed by complete disillusionment was a pain he had experienced before. He had grown weary of offering his heart only to have it trampled.

After that night, Jin Yi continued as usual. But late at night, he would think of the handkerchief he had abandoned by the pond, the once-dark bloodstain turning bright red again, stinging his eyes.

He continually tried to convince himself, while another part of him resisted, the conflicting emotions keeping him awake. When he did sleep, he was plagued by dreams, unable to find peace.

Upon waking, he decided, enough was enough. He would go and see him. They had no deep-seated hatred; in fact, there was more affection than resentment. But now that affection had turned to emptiness, the resentment should also be put to rest. Even if they couldn’t be lovers or friends, they should at least part on good terms, with a blessing. Only then could they truly let go of each other. He hoped that in the future, whether good or bad dreams, they wouldn’t involve him anymore.

He wasn’t going to bare his heart this time but to reclaim it, ensuring he wouldn’t be hurt again.

With this resolution, Jin Yi set out on his next day off, riding toward the countryside.

When Jin Yi arrived, he found the gate locked, a clear sign that the place was empty, except for a vibrant bloom of roses in the corner of the courtyard. He waited at the gate for a long time, watching as the sun moved westward and the farmers returned home with their cattle. But there was no sign of the owner returning. Had they moved? He decided to ask around.

He stopped a young boy playing a short flute on a buffalo and asked, “Young man, do you know if the people who lived here have moved?”

The boy looked Jin Yi up and down, nodded, then shook his head, and replied, “Are you asking about the man with the two young women?”

“That’s right. Do you know where they moved to? Or do your parents know?”

The boy answered, “I don’t know where they moved, but I know where one of them is.”

Jin Yi was puzzled. “Did some move and some stay?”

The boy’s eyes flashed with a hint of mischief. “Yes, the two young women left. The man didn’t; he’s over there. You can see him if you follow this path to the mountain pass.”

Jin Yi was confused but decided to trust the boy for now. He thanked him and handed him a small piece of silver.

As Jin Yi headed toward the mountain pass, the boy stared at the silver for a moment, then called out, “Sir, this gentleman!”

Jin Yi turned back, but the boy seemed unsure of what to say and simply waved before continuing his flute playing, disappearing into the sunset.

Despite preparing himself for this encounter, Jin Yi felt his heart race and a slight shortness of breath as he neared

 the man. He rehearsed what he would say and imagined the possible responses and his replies. As he walked through the verdant path, he finally reached the mountain pass, turned a corner around some lush rocks, and saw it: a newly built grave, the gravestone clearly inscribed in the sunset’s glow—”Grave of Fu Ming.”

Simple and straightforward, with nothing else.

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R : Surprise !!! Guys, I also can’t stand the stabbing anymore, I can’t ! So I worked the whole weekend to finish it ! 3 updates everyday until the end !

Keep me fueled with caffeine! Support me on Ko-fi! It helps a lot ! Thank you so much ♡(´･ω･)(･ω･`)♡