Married to a Villainous Minister - Chapter 126

After the quarrel at the Chen household last time, Yu Fuling no longer treated Chen Rou with the same warmth. In the past, her kindness toward Chen Rou wasn’t just because they had grown up together in the village, but also because she had once hoped Chen Rou would marry into her family.

But after Chen Ying spread those slanderous words about Yu Jiao, and Chen Rou still stood by her and defended her, Yu Fuling realized where her loyalties should lie. Yu Jiao was family now, her little sister, and there was no reason to be close with outsiders who wronged her kin.

Privately, she had stopped calling Chen Rou by her affectionate nickname.

Chen Rou had come to beg Yu Fuling more than once, and each time Yu Fuling had refused. But today, after hearing that the Chen family’s old matriarch was gravely ill, and seeing Chen Rou weeping and pleading again, her heart softened and she decided to bring it up to Yu Jiao.

Yu Jiao closed the book in her hands and glanced at Yu Fuling’s cautious expression. With a sigh, she said, “A physician should have compassion, yes, but I’m not someone with boundless generosity. I don’t go running to whoever calls me. You saw how the Chen family treated me last time. I won’t go back there.”

Yu Fuling thought of how Chen Rou’s eyes had brimmed with tears and couldn’t bear it. She hesitated, then said, “Chen Ying was just being foolish. She’s calmed down after being scolded. Chen Rou is close to her grandmother, and the old lady always wanted to live to see her married.” 

“Chen Rou said they’ve already invited several physicians, and they all think her grandmother might not survive the winter…”

She was clearly hoping Yu Jiao would reconsider.

Yu Jiao set the book on the small table beside the bed, her tone calm. “If the Chen family were sincere, they’d bring the old lady here themselves. Chen Rou pleading in secret won’t do. If I go and the treatment works, that’s fine, but if it doesn’t, who knows what resentment they might harbor.”

Yu Fuling tried to reason with her. “The old lady’s legs aren’t good, she can’t travel easily. But your medical skills are exceptional. You could surely help her.”

Yu Jiao’s expression cooled. “I may be skilled, but I’m not immortal. If all the physicians they consulted say she’s near the end, I doubt I can work miracles.”

Even if her legs were bad, if they truly wanted help, they’d carry her here if they had to. Seeing there was no way to persuade her, Yu Fuling gave up and left the courtyard. Chen Rou was waiting outside, her eyes red. When she saw Yu Fuling, she hurried forward and asked, “Did Miss Meng agree?”

Yu Fuling saw the hope in her face and felt a pang of guilt. She shook her head and tried to comfort her. “Yu Jiao is still young. She may not be as experienced as the older doctors. Why don’t you go to Huichun Hall and ask Dr. Jiang? He’s quite skilled.”

Disappointment flickered across Chen Rou’s delicate features. Tears welled up in her eyes as she said softly, “Father already took Grandmother to Huichun Hall. The doctor there said she couldn’t be cured.”

Seeing the tears trickling down her face, Yu Fuling’s heart ached. Remembering what Yu Jiao had said, she took Chen Rou’s hand and suggested, “Yu Jiao only said she won’t visit your home for the consultation. Why not bring your grandmother here?”

Chen Rou’s eyes lit up. She nodded tearfully. “I’ll go home now and ask Father to bring her.”

Back at the Chen household, the village head, Chen Gengsheng, had already wanted to bring his mother to the Yu family for treatment. But the old matriarch was strong-willed and stubborn, and flatly refused to go.

Yu Fuling waited until nightfall, but Chen Rou never returned with her grandmother. She grew anxious and, that evening, clung to Yu Jiao, trying to persuade her to write a prescription to help with the coughing.

Yu Jiao, of course, refused. As Yu Fuling pestered her, she patiently explained, “A prescription must match the symptoms exactly. If it’s even slightly off, it won’t save anyone, it’ll harm. Just look at what happened to the old master of the He family. You’re interested in medicine yourself, you must remember this well.”

Only then did Yu Fuling give up.

Yu Jiao got up and went to the kitchen, where she dropped the last leaf of the yaocao herb into the pot. Once the decoction was ready, she brought the medicine to Yu Qizhe’s room.

When he saw her enter with the bowl, Yu Qizhe set down his brush and got up to take it from her. He tipped his head back and drank it down in one go.

Yu Jiao looked up, her gaze falling on the curve of his neck and the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. He wore a thin, casual robe at home, and his collar was slightly open, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.

“What are you staring at?” Yu Qizhe asked, amused to find her staring so intently.

Yu Jiao quickly looked away, lowering her dark, clear eyes, and changed the subject. “That was the last dose of this prescription. Be careful these next few days. Once the toxins, uh, the impurities are purged from your system, I’ll start you on a new treatment.”

She had almost said “toxins,” but realized that Yu Qizhe likely didn’t know he had been poisoned in the first place. She caught herself just in time and changed it to “impurities.”

Yu Qizhe didn’t notice. He nodded. “Alright.” He set the bowl down on the small table and looked at her. Her jet-black hair hung smoothly over her chest, a few stray strands brushing her cheek. In the dim candlelight, her face looked soft and serene.

He wanted to reach out and tuck that strand behind her ear, but his fingers clenched slightly in restraint. Instead, he said, “Still practicing your calligraphy?”

Yu Jiao nodded and walked over to the desk. She pulled out a sheet of medical transcription and said quietly, “Just one chapter left, and I’ll be done with this text. Once it’s finished, I want Uncle to deliver it to Dr. Jiang at Huichun Hall. But I’m not sure if my handwriting is legible enough.”

She was copying down the medical text that Yu Ruhai had once made her memorize. Jiang Qinghe had always treated her kindly and had a genuine interest in medicine, she wanted to gift him the knowledge.

Yu Qizhe gently took the paper from her hand. His deep phoenix eyes scanned the writing and he said warmly, “It’s legible. The calligraphy isn’t excellent, but it’s very neat.”

Pleased by the praise, Yu Jiao smiled. “As long as he can read it.”

Watching the bright smile on her face, Yu Qizhe’s lips curved upward as well. Then he added teasingly, “But you should keep practicing. If people find out your writing is a copy of mine and it’s still this bad, you’ll embarrass me.”

Yu Jiao rolled her eyes. “Then I just won’t tell anyone. There’s no way I’ll ever write as well as you.”

Though she said that, her handwriting was already increasingly similar to his, what it lacked was just the spirit and elegance. Yu Qizhe’s handsome face lit up with a smile. He walked over and sat beside her at the desk. “I’ll practice with you.”

The long writing desk had, over time, become one they shared, his books and brushes on one side, her copybooks on the other.

Yu Jiao sat beside him, spreading out her paper to finish transcribing the final chapter. Yu Qizhe raised his hand to grind ink for her. His fair wrist was slender and well-proportioned, the faint blue veins just visible beneath the skin.

“Don’t worry about me,” Yu Jiao said. “The autumn provincial exam is coming up. You can’t let your studies fall behind.”

She remembered the story of Fan Jin passing the imperial exam and knew just how grueling the ancient examinations could be. Yu Qizhe had already lost three years of study. 

Unlike Yu Jinyan and the others, who were still in the academy, he was self-studying at home, and even the smartest mind could overlook things when learning alone.