The past was like smoke—it had completely faded away. Yan was now entirely separated from the Chu family.
After recovering from a serious illness, he seemed to suddenly understand some things more clearly. He also started to notice a few suspicious details.
He took one last glance in that direction.
Yan lowered his eyes.
They probably thought he was already half-dead by now.
He let go of the curtain, and it fell down.
A soft breeze lifted the fabric slightly, revealing the delicate and pretty side of the young man's face, half-lit by the light, along with his long neck partially hidden by his hair.
······
In the riverside town of Yijiang, the water was sweet, and so were the people. The locals spoke in soft, melodious voices, with songs flowing like water.
"Boatman, I want to buy some fruits."
On both sides of the small river that ran through the town were houses facing each other. Small boats often passed through, selling fruits and vegetables.
Yan called to a nearby boat, and the boatman paddled over.
"What would you like, young man?" the boatman asked.
There were autumn pears, sweet fruits, tender vegetables, and some things Yan didn't recognize.
He picked out a few items, thinking of making an autumn pear soup for Sister Anzhi to help her cool down from the autumn heat.
They had already been in this sweet-water town for half a month. They had bought a house, furnished it, and even opened a clinic.
But maybe because they were strangers and looked too young, no one had come to seek medical help from Anzhi yet—not that she minded. She had dug out a space in the backyard for a small herb garden. She planted herbs, made some essential pills, and passed the time.
Since the backyard was used entirely for herbs, they had to buy vegetables and fruits from outside. Luckily, this riverside town had plenty of affordable produce.
Yan placed the goods in a basket and walked a few steps to a large three-section brick house.
Not far away, under a tree, a few married men who were chatting greeted him as he passed by. Yan nodded in return and entered the house.
As soon as he went in, the people under the tree started chatting again.
"These fruits and vegetables don't cost much here, but usually we only buy them when we really need to. That family buys them every day since they arrived—no idea how to run a household."
"Well, they must be rich. They bought one of the biggest houses in town right after arriving and even bought a shop on the street," one said, clearly jealous.
"If they had more power, they probably would've bought one of the official houses in the north of town too."
"By the way, did any of you get a good look at the head of that household?"
That question sparked an even louder conversation. Voices overlapped until they all agreed on one thing:
"She looks like a female version of Pan An!"
Yan didn't hear any of this, but he could guess the sort of things they were saying. He didn't care and left the gossip behind.
He and Sister Anzhi weren't the type to work a vegetable garden. Anzhi simply enjoyed her herbs, so she was more patient with it.
It was nearly time for Sister Anzhi to return. Yan washed the pears clean, cut them into pieces, added water and honey, and just as he finished, someone called from the entrance.
A woman dressed in white, with a touch of green like bamboo, walked in. Her eyes were as clear as water, her brows like distant mountains, and she wore a light smile on her pale, lovely face. She walked slightly faster than usual, full of energy in every movement.
That line about being a female Pan An—it was true.
Half a month ago, the first time Yan saw Anzhi cleaned up, he almost didn't recognize her. He even pinched himself a few times before he finally accepted that this beautiful person was his "sister."
Yan peeked his head out and called sweetly, "Sister Anzhi."
Anzhi walked in and drank the tea on the table in one gulp, pouring herself a few more cups right after.
Seeing this, Yan frowned. "Sister Anzhi, how can you drink so much cold tea in this season? You're a doctor yourself."
Cough cough. "Next time I won't," Anzhi waved him off.
"I knew you'd just brush it off. I don't believe you at all," Yan pouted.
"Why are you so thirsty today? You didn't even have time to drink water?" he asked.
Anzhi had wanted to change the topic, but since he asked, she went along with it.
"The clinic was a bit busy today."
His tone immediately changed, full of excitement. "A lot of patients came? So someone finally came to you for treatment?"
Anzhi: …
Sometimes, not having patients was a good thing.
It meant people were healthy and life was peaceful. The bad part wasn't that no one was sick, but that no one trusted a doctor who was too pretty and too young.
Since they opened, besides a few customers buying herbs, the only patient so far was an old lady who came for rat poison.
So Yan's surprise and happiness were understandable when Anzhi said she was busy—he thought someone had finally recognized her skills.
Anzhi gave a helpless smile. "It was a patient, yes… but not a person."
"Huh? What do you mean, not a person?"
"A family's pregnant cow had trouble giving birth. They brought it to the clinic." She explained the whole story.
To common folk, cows were very valuable. That family must have heard someone say doctors could help with difficult childbirths and decided that maybe it could work for animals too. After being rejected by several clinics, they finally brought the cow to her.
"So that means… that cow was your first real patient?"
Anzhi raised an eyebrow. "You're that confident in me?"
Yan nodded proudly. "You're my sister—how could you not be capable?"
"Right. As Yan's sister, I must be capable." Anzhi smiled, happy to see him opening up more each day.
"The cow gave birth to twins."
"No wonder it was a hard birth," Yan said. Cows usually only have one calf. Multiple births are riskier, just like with humans.
Yan declared that this was a special day and they had to eat something good.
Aside from the pear soup, all he could make was a simple salad.
Wait!
What pear soup?
His pear soup!
Anzhi had just started to agree when Yan suddenly rushed off. A second later, a loud, heartbreaking cry came from the kitchen.
"My pear soup!"
Anzhi knew he had made it himself and had meant it as a gesture of care. She reassured him that it was fine, but Yan still looked very disappointed.
"I can't cook. Sister Anzhi always comes home early just to cook for me. She works so hard… I just wanted to make something simple like pear soup, and I burned it…"
Anzhi patted his head and interrupted his rambling. "What are you saying? It turned out fine. You made pear syrup instead. Sweeter and even better. Delicious."
Yan couldn't stop her in time and could only watch as she took a big spoonful of the dark, sticky syrup and put it in her mouth.
"Sister Anzhi! You—how could you!"
"It's good. Really good." Anzhi chewed thoughtfully.
"Try it yourself." She scooped another spoonful and held it to his lips.
She wasn't just saying it to make him feel better. It was unexpectedly tasty—sweet, sticky, with a bit of caramel flavor. Though the first spoon was too much and made her a little sick of the sweetness.
Still, children need confidence. Encouragement helps them grow.
"Really?" Yan looked at her doubtfully.
He tried it, just to be sure.
Huh. It really was good.
Yan tasted it carefully, feeling a bit pleased.
"See? Pear syrup is great. You can eat it like this or mix it with water for soup. It's concentrated goodness. You did amazing—so talented!" Anzhi praised him.
Yan blushed from the compliment, smiling and trying not to look too proud.
He wasn't anything special, really—just an ordinary genius pear syrup maker.
"Alright then, Yan, go pack up the syrup. I'll go find something to store it in." She turned and walked away, and once out of sight, secretly drank five more cups of water.