Lin Fang’s fever came on inexplicably.
Her family tried to give her medicine, but every time they did, she vomited it right back up—none of it stayed down. With no other options, Lin Guicheng drove straight past the town hospital and rushed overnight to the county hospital. Even there, she spat out any medicine they gave her, pulled out IV needles, and even slapped a nurse with astonishing strength, despite being delirious.
Woken in the middle of the night and with a colleague slapped, the county hospital doctor lost his temper, declaring he couldn’t treat Lin Fang and telling them to leave. Left with no choice, Lin Guicheng drove straight to the regional hospital.
Along the way, Lin Fang continued muttering incomprehensible nonsense in her delirium—except to Lin Guicheng, who understood every word and was stunned. He never imagined that Lin Fang would refuse to marry even the legitimate son of a prince—the only prince in the empire, the emperor’s own brother—just to avoid sharing a husband. That prince’s son was none other than Qi Biao, the man who had forced him to flee Lin Village with his wife and daughter. And now, Qi Biao was the other person he had demanded, besides Lin Fang.
Lin Guicheng had already checked Lin Fang’s pulse and had his own treatment plan in mind. But this wasn’t his original world, and his methods might not be understood or accepted here. So, despite his growing anxiety, he kept busy without voicing his thoughts, preparing for the worst.
By the time they reached the regional hospital, dawn had broken. Lin Fang had calmed down, sleeping soundly, her fever completely gone.
Exhausted from the ordeal, Lin Yuanmin let Lin Guicheng carry Lin Fang out of the car. Seizing the chance, Lin Guicheng checked her pulse again—not only had the earlier irregularities improved, but he could confidently say Lin Fang was now in better health than ever, with no trace of her heart condition.
“Uncle Cheng, what time is it?” Lin Fang woke as they reached the hospital entrance, recognizing the man carrying her in her groggy state.
“You’re awake? It’s about seven-thirty,” Lin Guicheng replied, stepping through the hospital doors.
Lin Fang struggled to get down. “Where are we?”
Setting her down gently, Lin Guicheng guided her forward. “The hospital.”
Lin Fang froze. “Huh? Why are we here? Are you sick, Uncle Cheng?”
“Fang, it’s you who’s sick. We’re here for you.”
It seemed Lin Fang was fine now. Lin Guicheng sighed in relief, but Lin Yuanmin hurried over in a panic, supporting Lin Fang from the other side.
Lin Fang frowned. “Dad, I’m perfectly fine. What illness?”
Her words startled Lin Yuanmin. “Oh no, Fang, did the fever mess with your head? You were delirious all night!”
No wonder she felt weak, her legs like jelly, her throat dry—though she remembered none of it.
If her dad said she’d been sick, it must be true. Lin Fang reassured him, “Dad, I’m better now. Here, check for yourself.” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her forehead.
“Huh? No fever? Wait, let me check again.”
Lin Yuanmin didn’t trust his own touch. Bending down, he pressed his forehead to hers—cool and normal. Bewildered, he turned to Lin Guicheng. “Guicheng, am I the one with a fever? Fang’s head doesn’t feel hot at all.”
Lin Guicheng chuckled. “Brother, Lin Fang’s fever broke on its own. Of course she’s not hot anymore.”
“How is that possible?” Lin Yuanmin still couldn’t believe it.
“Dad, what’s your problem? Are you upset I’m not sick?” Fully awake now, Lin Fang resorted to her usual tactic—acting spoiled.
“No, Fang, of course I’m happy you’re better. But are you really fine?”
Her playful defiance proved her mind was intact, but Lin Yuanmin remained skeptical. After several forehead checks, he finally relented—though he still insisted, “Even if the fever’s gone, we should see a doctor. There must be something wrong if you got sick out of nowhere.”
“No way. If I’m fine, why bother? Today’s the last day of winter break calligraphy class. If I skip without notice, who’ll trust me as a teacher?”
Lin Fang refused to see a doctor. Aside from feeling weak, she felt better than ever—her heart might have fully healed in this short time. If she went in, she’d just become Dr. Ouyang’s lab rat.
“Health comes first. Since we’re already here, let’s get checked.” Lin Yuanmin wouldn’t budge.
“I’m not going. I’m heading back to teach.” Ignoring him, Lin Fang turned and marched out of the hospital.
Lin Yuanmin chased after her. “Fang, just a quick check—it won’t take long.”
Yeah, right. Hospitals meant endless tests—no way it’d be quick. Lin Fang ignored him, walking straight to Lin Guicheng’s car.
Lin Guicheng followed, reassuring Lin Yuanmin, “Brother, I checked her pulse. She’s fine.”
After much persuasion, Lin Yuanmin reluctantly got in the car. Lin Fang had Lin Guicheng drop her off at the bookstore in town.
There, Rou Qiu and Guo Hongping were already waiting, worried about Lin Fang’s absence. Past experience suggested she’d need days to recover, and without explanation, parents might complain, making future enrollments harder.
After dropping Lin Fang off, Lin Guicheng drove Lin Yuanmin back to the village—who knew how frantic the family was by now?
The bookstore was bustling. Aside from parents inquiring about the art class, newcomers streamed in, drawn by word of Dou Yalin’s painting challenge days earlier. Some even asked Lin Fang to paint their portraits on the spot.
To satisfy their curiosity, Lin Fang announced she’d paint a street scene after calligraphy class—complete with people and everything visible from the store. Whether it was good or not, they could judge for themselves. If she painted portraits for every request, she’d collapse from exhaustion.
Just as class ended and Lin Fang prepped her supplies, Sun Ao’s dad barged in, shouting, “Teacher Lin! I rounded up three kids for enrollment—here’s 440 yuan. My son’s a returning student, so 200 for both calligraphy and art. The other two are new, 120 each for art. Count it!”
“Oh, and one more buddy’s unreachable, but he mentioned wanting his kid in. Since I’m so proactive, ask your boss to reserve a spot for both classes till the 20th. If he doesn’t show by then, forget it.”
His rant left no room for interruption. Before Lin Fang could respond, someone else asked, “Wait, there’s a limit?”
“Of course! Only 20 per class. My son acted fast—got my grandson in early!” Sun’s grandpa boasted.
Sun Ao’s dad basked in the praise, bragging about his quick thinking and detailing class fees and schedules—with enough exaggeration to make Lin Fang’s trio stifle laughter.
Lin Fang stayed silent. With the Suns as free promoters, she saved herself the trouble.
Their pitch swayed the hesitant and even the merely curious. One parent asked, “Teacher Lin, can you hold a spot? I’ll discuss it with my spouse.”
Rou Qiu cut in, “Sorry, no holds. If everyone did that, it’d be chaos. We’re reserving for Uncle Sun because he enrolled first.
Let me explain: Eight returning students get priority in both classes, leaving 12 spots per class. Uncle Sun took two, so nine remain. Think fast, ma’am.”
“Wait, we get priority?” Parents were pleasantly surprised.
Rou Qiu doubled down. “Of course! We built rapport all winter. Returning students pay 100, new ones 120. But spots won’t wait forever—just till the 20th. Decide soon.”
Lin Fang nearly laughed aloud. Rou Qiu’s smooth talk—priority for returning students, framing 100 as a discount when it was 20 more than before—left parents both eager and anxious.
With Rou Qiu spinning tales and the Suns chiming in, Lin Fang grabbed her supplies and set up outside, painting the street scene in earnest.
The classes were for profit, but teaching was her passion. She wouldn’t let money dull her skills.
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