Xu Wenyi was not merely a retired physician—he was also a man trained in martial arts.
When a subtle disturbance brushed against his senses, he paused in the middle of grinding herbs and moved soundlessly to the window.
Parting the wooden lattice by a sliver, his sharp gaze swept across the slope ahead.
Between the bushes, two horses grazed calmly.
His eyes narrowed.
Travelers came often in search of medicine, and under ordinary circumstances, he would not have raised his guard.
Yet an inexplicable unease stirred in his chest.
Something about this visit felt… deliberate.
Upon closer inspection, he recognized the insignia on the saddles.
They belonged to the Lin household.
Xu Wenyi frowned slightly.
He could scarcely recall the Lin family ever seeking him out.
Their household valued books, ink, and scholarly pursuits. Medicine was never among their concerns, nor had they shown interest in his trade before.
Just as he was about to close the window and return to his work, a head suddenly appeared at the edge of the frame.
Lin Yue leaned forward, unexpectedly meeting his gaze.
She smiled politely.
Her features were delicate yet unassuming—clear eyes framed by long lashes, a calm curve to her lips, and a quiet composure that softened her youthful beauty.
There was nothing flamboyant about her appearance, yet it lingered in the eye, like a brushstroke placed with care.
Her presence carried a clean, faint medicinal scent, subtle but unmistakable.
Lin Yue had not intended to startle him. Still, she knew that Xu Wenyi was not a man one could approach casually.
A first meeting, if done too plainly, would be easily forgotten. It was better to leave an impression.
"Mr. Xu," she said respectfully. "May we come in? I am Mei Lin, and I have come with my master—the first young mistress of the Lin household."
Xu Wenyi's initial impulse was to refuse.
Yet the faint medicinal fragrance clinging to Lin Yue—fresh ginger mingled with something refined—made his hand pause on the window frame.
His curiosity stirred.
After a brief silence, he stepped back and opened the door.
"Come in," he said simply.
The interior of the cottage was modest and orderly.
Wooden shelves lined the walls, neatly stacked with dried herbs, porcelain jars, and bundles tied with red string.
A small furnace sat in one corner, its embers glowing softly, while a stone table in the center held a mortar, pestle, and carefully labeled scrolls.
There was no excess, no decoration beyond necessity.
...
Xu Wenyi had never intended to play the role of a gracious host.
He offered neither tea nor snacks, merely motioned for them to sit before taking his place opposite them.
Lin Yue understood at once.
She inclined her head slightly. "Mr. Xu, we did not come to trouble you for medicine," she said calmly. "We came to trade."
Xu Wenyi's brows lifted a fraction. "Trade?" His voice was even, but his eyes were sharp. "With what?"
Lin Yue reached for the sack at her side and loosened it just enough for the faint scent of dried herbs to escape. "Medicinal herbs. Carefully harvested, properly preserved, and—most importantly—useful."
Xu Wenyi folded his arms loosely. "Speak."
"These herbs," Lin Yue said, naming them one by one, "are excellent for stabilizing internal heat, replenishing qi, and treating long-standing cold ailments. Used alone, they are effective. Combined properly, their effects multiply."
Xu Wenyi listened in silence, with an unreadable expression.
When she finished, he finally asked, "And how much do you intend to ask for these herbs?"
Lin Yue paused, as though considering carefully. She lightly wet her lower lip before replying, "My master and I are not greedy. We would rather you decide their value—after you witness their benefits."
Slowly, she loosened the pouch at her waist.
Inside lay several knotted, pale-yellow roots.
Xu Wenyi's expression changed.
"…Ginger?"
Forbidden throughout the kingdom, condemned as overly harsh and dangerous if misused—yet here it was, handled without fear.
As if sensing his doubt, Lin Yue spoke calmly. "Yes. Forbidden ginger roots," she acknowledged. "But only because their use has been misunderstood."
She continued evenly, "Ginger warms the body, disperses cold, improves circulation, and aids digestion. When used correctly, it reduces nausea, relieves internal dampness, and strengthens the stomach. For patients with chronic cold conditions, its effects are remarkable."
Xu Wenyi remained silent for a long moment.
Finally, he said, "You want to cook with it?"
Lin Yue nodded.
Reluctantly, Xu Wenyi led them into the small kitchen at the back of the cottage.
The space was simple—an earthen stove, a chopping board worn smooth by time, a clay pot resting over low firewood. Lin Yue set out the ingredients neatly, while Lin Yuqin stood beside her, visibly tense.
At first, Lin Yuqin was clumsy. She had never stepped into a kitchen before, much less prepared a meal herself.
Her movements were hesitant, and her grip uncertain. But under Lin Yue's quiet guidance, she gradually steadied—washing, slicing, stirring, and learning the rhythm of the task.
Xu Wenyi watched them closely.
He suspected this visit was not accidental. Why else would a neglected young mistress possess such valuable herbs?
Even living in seclusion, he had heard the rumors—Lin Yuqin was said to be dull, uneducated, and easily discarded. A woman whose engagement had been broken, whose position in the household was fragile at best.
She was not someone anyone expected greatness from.
That was precisely why Xu Wenyi doubted her now.
And ginger—of all things—was dangerous. If mishandled, it could harm rather than heal. He could not rule out the possibility that this was an attempt to force his hand… or worse.
The only reason he had allowed this farce to continue was out of courtesy to her noble background—and because the medicinal fragrance clinging to the herbs was undeniably pure.
As the broth simmered, thin slices of ginger released a warm, soothing aroma. The chicken was blanched and added carefully, scallions bruised and dropped in whole. The clear liquid gradually turned golden, its scent clean and comforting, neither sharp nor heavy.
Steam rose softly, carrying a fragrance that settled into the air, a warm, clean aroma spread through the room—neither sharp nor overpowering, but comforting and rich.
Even Xu Wenyi could not deny it.
The scent alone was enough to make one pause.