Bai Qingqing held the nut in her hands, chewing slowly. Every time she finished one, Ning Yan would crack another for her, tireless and unwavering.

“My lord, you really don’t have to—how can I let you shell nuts for me…”

She tried to stop him, but Ning Yan snapped open another with a crisp crack. “If I tell you to eat, then eat. Why do I need your permission for what I choose to do?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bai Qingqing fumed—why could he always twist people’s words like this? She gave up trying to argue. If he wanted to shell them, fine, she’d eat them.

After a handful, Ning Yan finally stopped. “That’s enough for now. Nuts keep well—we’ll do more tomorrow. I’m stepping out.”

He left the carriage, and from the sounds outside, probably rode off ahead on horseback. Bai Qingqing sat alone, surrounded by untouched pastries and shelled nuts, staring into space. Who exactly was the attendant here?

...

Wen Jiang had thought of everything when packing for Bai Qingqing—especially the sorts of items a woman might need. He even looked a little smug about it. “I asked quite a few young ladies to be sure I missed nothing. It’s the first time the lord’s had me prepare things for a girl—I had to make it perfect.”

There were things even Bai Qingqing hadn’t considered, and yet Wen Jiang had packed them all. Grateful, she learned that despite being a physician himself, he often couldn’t sleep well at night and had to rely on calming decoctions. So she sent over a pouch of sleep-soothing incense.

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“I’m not sure it’ll work, but give it a try, Brother Wen.”

To her surprise, the very next morning Wen Jiang came looking for her, practically glowing with excitement. His eyes, well-rested and bright, sparkled as he spoke. “That incense of yours is miraculous! I could tell there were calming herbs mixed in, but I didn’t expect it to work so well. And the fragrance—light and elegant. You’ve no idea how much I’ve suffered drinking those bitter brews!”

Though Wen Jiang was a physician, he detested drinking medicine. He could lecture others with authority, but when it came to himself, he always found a dozen excuses to avoid it. Now that his sleepless nights could be eased without bitter decoctions, he was overjoyed, pestering Bai Qingqing with questions about how she’d managed it.

Thus, Bai Qingqing found herself with something to do each day—experimenting with Wen Jiang on all sorts of curious new ideas. He was deeply versed in pharmacology, and his insights were invaluable to her. Within a few days, she’d already refined her old incense formulas and made a fresh batch.

Ning Yan, wearied from the steady flood of urgent affairs, sat with one hand propping up his head for a short rest when a faint, unfamiliar scent brushed past his senses. It was tranquil and crisp, a cool clarity that seemed to gently loosen every tense muscle in his body.

He opened his eyes to see Bai Qingqing placing a delicate incense burner in the corner of the carriage. She gave it a slight nudge outward, then quietly settled herself behind him. Just as he was wondering what she was up to, a pair of cool fingers pressed lightly against his temple.

Her voice came from behind him, soft and cotton-sweet. “Close your eyes. Let me give you a massage to wake you up. My father and brother always say I’ve got the best hands.”

Her tone was warm and light, and Ning Yan let himself drift with it, his eyes falling shut. It felt as though he were suspended in water, surrounded by the faint perfume of serenity. Her fingers worked with just the right pressure, gently kneading away the clutter in his mind, smoothing out the creases between his thoughts. In that moment, Ning Yan understood what true comfort felt like.

When she finished, Bai Qingqing rose to let him return to his seat. But the moment she stepped to his side, he caught her wrist—off balance, she tumbled softly onto the cushion.

“My lord?”

Ning Yan’s eyes remained closed. He said nothing. But his hand did not let go.