Marry me.

A wind rose, silent and unseen, sweeping away the stifling heat. Gu Wanting felt a chill; nestled in Mo Yuhua’s arms, she was drenched from head to toe, as if doused with cold water. Her gaze wandered, finally settling upon Gu Fei, seated in her wheelchair amidst the crowd. That face, pale as jade and cool as frost, with eyes dark and clear—so deep they sent a shiver down Gu Wanting’s spine—filled her with a sudden, hysterical understanding.

She shoved Mo Yuhua away with all her strength, shrieking as she tried to lunge at Gu Fei. “It was you! You’re the one who ruined me!”

“Wanting, calm yourself!” Mo Yuhua held her tightly, glancing up at Gu Fei, whose expression remained unmoved.

Most of the guests in the Hall of Splendors had yet to leave; some had heard the commotion and stepped out to see. A stewardess approached, saying to Mo Yuhua, “Forgive me.”

With that, she brought her hand down in a swift chop to the back of Gu Wanting’s neck, knocking her unconscious.

“What have you done to my eldest sister?” Gu Wanxiu hurried to shield Gu Wanting, her gaze wary of the stewardess.

Mo Yuhua felt a headache pressing in. He inhaled deeply and barked, “Wanxiu, mind your manners.”

The stewardess did not deign to argue, only addressed Mo Yuhua, “If you don’t mind, sir, you may bring Miss Gu to a private room in the Hall of Splendors to rest. Once she’s recovered, you can return home. Since this happened in our hall, we will cover all medical expenses.”

After a brief pause, Mo Yuhua nodded. Their carriage was ruined and onlookers were gathering; Gu Wanxiu needed a doctor. The stewardess’s suggestion was more than appropriate. “Thank you for your help.”

The stewardess smiled, a rosy glow blooming at the corners of her eyes. “There’s no need for such courtesy, sir. You may call me Qingyun.”

Mo Yuhua nodded, lifting Gu Wanting into his arms, but his gaze drifted toward Gu Fei, words unspoken.

Gu Fei seemed to sense his hesitation. “I won’t feel at ease until I see my sister safe.”

Her meaning clear: she would stay as well. Feng Lizhi, no longer anxious, personally wheeled Gu Fei inside with Mo Yuhua, trailed by Gu Wanxiu and Gu Rou.

Falling two steps behind, Gu Fei steered her wheelchair aside, seeking out the doctor. “Doctor, how is my eldest sister’s health?”

The elderly physician, silver-bearded and white-browed, carrying his medicine chest, stroked his beard and sighed repeatedly.

“Doctor, please speak plainly. If she needs rare medicines, our Gu family can—” Gu Rou began.

But before she could finish, Mo Yuhua’s voice, cold as spring water, cut in: “Doctor, do not speak carelessly. I will personally seek the best physicians for her later.”

His words were sharp. The old doctor’s beard trembled with indignation. “What do you youngsters know!”

With a sweep of his sleeve and hands clasped behind his back, the doctor declared, “The young lady you hold was born with a cold constitution. During her monthly courses, she takes copious medicine to stop bleeding and ease pain. If she doesn’t take care to warm and nurture herself, whoever marries her should expect no heirs!”

Having delivered this thunderbolt, the doctor ignored Qingyun’s warning glance, shouldered his medicine chest, and left.

Gu Wanxiu and Gu Rou were stunned, words dying on their tongues as they saw Mo Yuhua’s ice-cold expression.

Gu Fei calmly traced the armrest of her wheelchair, her face unchanged. She glanced at Gu Wanting in Mo Yuhua’s arms, her lips curling with a faint, inscrutable smile. In the shifting shadows, her eyes were as deep as ink. Feng Lizhi, about to murmur some comfort, caught sight of her unusually large, black pupils and paused. By the time he regained his senses, they had already entered a spacious private room in the Hall of Splendors.

Gu Wanting was laid on a soft couch. Mo Yuhua gently brushed the stray hair from her forehead—his usual gentle elegance nowhere to be seen. He whispered something to the coachman, who turned and left.

Feng Lizhi, separated by a screen, did not enter. Gu Fei rolled her wheelchair to the bedside, speaking softly, “Brother Yuhua, you mustn’t lose your composure. You know this city well—find a reputable doctor to examine my sister thoroughly, and all will be clear.”

She paused, then added, “Even if the previous doctor spoke some truth, he also said that with proper care, she still has hope.”

Mo Yuhua seemed to take her words to heart. He looked up, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Ah Fei, this is the first time you’ve called me Brother Yuhua.”

Gu Fei was startled, not expecting him to remark on that.

At that moment, Qingyun entered with tea. “Miss Gu will wake in half an hour. Please, rest and have some tea.”

She then turned to Mo Yuhua. “I apologize for the words of that doctor.”

Mo Yuhua shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Qingyun. You meant well.”

Qingyun smiled gently. “Fortunately, there is something I can do to make amends. As it happens, Doctor Nine, famed for his eccentric genius across the empire, is a guest at our hall. I went to request his aid, and he has agreed to see Miss Gu. What do you think?”

Doctor Nine was renowned throughout the Great Yin. His methods were unpredictable and he cared nothing for status or virtue—if he found a patient to his liking, he could snatch life from the jaws of death.

Mo Yuhua’s face lit up with surprise. “Doctor Nine is in town? And he’s willing to help?”

Qingyun nodded, lips curved in a discreet smile. “Yes. He often requires rare medicines, which only our hall can provide, so we maintain good relations. I dared to ask, and to my delight, he agreed. This is a great stroke of fortune for Miss Gu.”

“Splendid. I am deeply grateful, Miss Qingyun.” Mo Yuhua bowed respectfully.

No one noticed the glint of cunning beneath Gu Fei’s long lashes—swift and serpentine.

Doctor Nine arrived quickly, surprising all with his youth. He wore dark robes, his hair falling to his calves, and a silver mask with delicate dragon motifs covered half his face. With his features half-concealed, no one could discern his true appearance.

Qingyun ushered him in with utmost respect, while the others waited outside the screen.

Within moments, Qingyun’s voice could be heard: “Born with a cold constitution, excessive use of hemostatic medicine—conception will be difficult. She must be carefully nourished.”

His diagnosis matched the earlier physician’s exactly.

Mo Yuhua’s face paled; Gu Wanxiu began to sob softly, Gu Rou’s expression unreadable—whether sorrow or schadenfreude, none could say. Only Gu Fei remained impassive, though a wary gleam flickered in her dark eyes.

“Please, Doctor Nine, grant us a prescription. We will reward you handsomely,” Mo Yuhua said humbly, bowing low.

But Doctor Nine ignored him, striding straight to Gu Fei. His dark robes swept across the floor like a gathering storm, his shadow stretching long and enveloping her wheelchair completely.

Gu Fei looked up, and at this close range, she could see the intricate dragon patterns on his silver mask—it was strikingly beautiful.

“Marry me,” Doctor Nine commanded, looking down at her, his first words spoken. “And I will cure your legs.”