Chapter 56:

On the way back, both of them were silent, the air seemingly frozen.

The night was pitch black, and the car’s interior lights were off. However, the streetlights outside cast intermittent glows into the car, preventing complete darkness. Yet, Qin Chaoyu almost wished there were no lights at all. Sitting in the car, she felt inexplicably awkward—perhaps she was overthinking things due to her sensitive nature. To mask her unease, she turned her head to gaze out the window.

Bo Jixi appeared focused on driving, but the corner of his eye never left Qin Chaoyu. He wanted to ask: Why had she agreed to be Lian Huijie’s companion? Why did she seem so cheerful talking to Lian Huijie, while with him, they sat in silence? When had they become so close?

Too many questions swirled chaotically in his mind, impossible to untangle.

But Bo Jixi knew he had no right—nor the standing—to ask any of them.

The strange, stifling atmosphere only lifted when they arrived at the gates of Yuzhou University.

As soon as the car stopped, Qin Chaoyu quickly thanked him, “Thank you for driving me back. Goodbye!” She pushed the door open and hurried toward the campus, not even minding her discomfort in high heels, desperate to escape the awkwardness.

Bo Jixi had no time to respond. He could only watch as Qin Chaoyu disappeared into the distance, not retracting his gaze until she was completely out of sight.

Only then did he begin to reflect on his own inexplicable behavior that night.

Yuzhou University was far from the bustling city center, surrounded mostly by small eateries that closed early at night. The area was dark and deserted, visited only by students after hours. For their safety, the university had installed streetlights along the road leading to the entrance, though they were programmed to turn off at 10 p.m.

The dim, yellowish glow was far from the harsh brightness of incandescent bulbs. Bo Jixi’s car happened to be parked beneath one of these streetlights, the faint light casting shadows across his pensive face as he sat in silence, lost in thought.

He tried to make sense of his strange emotions but found no clear answers.

Only when his surroundings plunged into darkness did he check his phone and realize—it was already 10:30 p.m.

Had he really been sitting here for two hours?

Bo Jixi found it unbelievable. He hadn’t noticed the passage of time at all.

Shaking his head, he pushed aside the troubling questions, started the car, and drove away.

Qin Chaoyu, meanwhile, had already put the incident behind her the moment she returned to her dorm, unaware that someone had lingered outside for two hours.

The second she entered her room, she kicked off her high heels and collapsed onto a chair, massaging her swollen feet. Just two hours in those shoes had left them red and sore—though admittedly, her feet were unusually delicate.

“Chaoyu, you should really put some ointment on those feet, or you might not be able to walk tomorrow!” Qian Fangyuan exclaimed upon seeing the state of Qin Chaoyu’s feet.

Miao Zhaodi also shot her a concerned glance.

Bo Pengpeng rolled her eyes at Qian Fangyuan. “Idiot. Chaoyu’s medical skills are top-notch. Do you really think she needs *you* to remind her?”

Qian Fangyuan planted her hands on her hips and snapped back, “Bo Pengpeng! I’m just showing concern! Unlike *you*, heartlessly mocking me!”

Before another dorm-wide battle could erupt, Qin Chaoyu intervened for the sake of peace. “Alright, alright, it’s late. Loud noises will disturb others. Let’s all get ready for bed—wash up, put on face masks. I’ll apply the ointment soon. And thank you, Yuan Yuan, for your concern.”

Qian Fangyuan suddenly remembered she still hadn’t removed her makeup. With her slow, meticulous routine, she’d never finish before lights-out if she didn’t start now. Abandoning the argument, she huffed and turned away to begin her skincare ritual.

With one combatant gone, Bo Pengpeng had no one left to bicker with. After expressing her concern for Qin Chaoyu—and receiving repeated assurances that her feet were fine—she applied a face mask and climbed into bed.

Qin Chaoyu’s feet looked worse than they actually were. She retrieved a jar of ointment she’d prepared earlier—originally meant for the rough military boots during training, which had chafed her skin.

Squeezing a pea-sized amount onto her palm, the transparent pink gel shimmered like jelly against her fair skin, almost beautiful.

This was Qin Chaoyu’s habit—all her homemade ointments and pills were aesthetically pleasing. Strangely, they often looked so appetizing that outsiders might mistake them for gourmet candies.

She rubbed her hands together to spread the ointment evenly, then applied it to her feet, massaging gently. Within moments, the swelling visibly subsided.

Such rapid results would astonish anyone, even if it was just a simple anti-inflammatory balm.

Sadly, no one in the dorm noticed.

But Qin Chaoyu was used to it. Her sect’s medicinal recipes were extraordinary to begin with, and her own talent in pharmacology meant her concoctions were consistently 30-40% more effective than others’. This outcome was hardly surprising.

The following days passed uneventfully—just classes, studying medical texts, and enjoying the quiet rhythm of life.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

The Xiong family came knocking again.

This time, their sincerity was undeniable. Not only did the family patriarch personally extend the invitation, but even the notoriously arrogant Xiong Xiaogu offered a genuine apology.

Qin Chaoyu could tell the apology was heartfelt—which only deepened her surprise. How had someone so spiteful transformed into such meekness?

Then again, Xiong Zhimin’s haggard appearance suggested she hadn’t been living well lately.

And she hadn’t.

The moment news spread that the Xiong family had cut her off, her husband—once all sweet words—turned cold and dismissive, pressuring her daily to beg her eldest brother for forgiveness.

Her social circle evaporated. Friends who once flattered her now avoided her, while at high-society events, people she’d once scorned openly mocked her.

Worst of all, without the Xiong family’s support, she realized her husband’s business was barely profitable—certainly not enough to fund her lavish lifestyle.

At just thirty, she refused to resign herself to such a future. So she swallowed her pride and apologized.

Qin Chaoyu didn’t care about Xiong Zhimin’s change of heart. Even after accepting the apology, she still declined the Xiong family’s request.

Yet the patriarch remained unfazed, calmly stating he’d return to extend the invitation again before leaving.

His next visit came just three days later—sooner than Qin Chaoyu expected.

She sighed. It was clear Madam Xiong’s condition had worsened.

Her compassion won out. Though her own life had been devoid of strong familial bonds, she couldn’t bear to watch others suffer the pain of separation.

But compassion didn’t make her reckless. Before agreeing, she warned them bluntly: She couldn’t guarantee a cure. If treatment failed, they weren’t to blame her.

The Xiong family, overjoyed at her acceptance, readily agreed to her terms, eager for her to begin immediately.

Returning to the Xiong residence, Qin Chaoyu found Madam Xiong’s room unchanged—stifling with the bitter scent of medicine, windows shut tight, curtains drawn, blocking every sliver of sunlight. The dimness was oppressive.

Covering her nose, Qin Chaoyu frowned. “This heavy medicinal stench, stale air, and darkness—is she living in a cave? Or can’t you afford lights? Staying in such conditions would make even a healthy person sick!”

“Open the windows! Whoever told you sealing a sickroom prevents worsening symptoms was wrong. Unless it’s a wind-sensitive condition, fresh air is essential!”

The Xiong family trailed behind her, expressions sheepish. This time, the entire household was present—including Xiong Yunhan and Xiong Rongming, the latter being the root cause of Madam Xiong’s illness.

Without waiting for his father’s instruction, Xiong Bochang hurried to open the windows.

Sunlight poured in, golden and uplifting, dispelling the room’s gloom.

Qin Chaoyu approached the bed where Madam Xiong lay—either asleep or unconscious.

After a visual examination, she checked the woman’s pupils, then settled in to take her pulse.

The family watched in tense silence.

Xiong Rongming’s eyes brimmed with hope. At eleven, he understood his mother’s illness stemmed from his birth.

No one blamed him—not even his mother, who often gazed at him with love and sorrow, gently stroking his head. He didn’t fully grasp the complexity in her eyes, but he knew she loved him.

Which only deepened his guilt. He couldn’t shake the belief that he was his mother’s curse.

The older he grew, the heavier the burden. Nightmares of his family accusing him left him waking in cold sweat. He withdrew, afraid to make friends, terrified they’d label him a monster who harmed his own mother.

Sometimes, he wondered if vanishing would cure her.

This sister—summoned at great effort—was his last hope. If she failed…

The Xiongs remained oblivious to his turmoil. Xiong Lunbing was consumed by his wife’s care and business demands, while the age gap between Xiong Yunhan, Xiong Bochang, and Xiong Rongming made closeness difficult. To them, his quietness was just a quirk.

Finishing the pulse check, Qin Chaoyu turned to meet the family’s desperate gazes—so full of hope it pained her to deliver disappointing news.