“Master!”

Chu Ruoyan declared boldly, “You’re my husband. Doesn’t the saying go that a woman should follow her husband after marriage? That makes you my master! But now you meddle in everything I do—it’s so annoying. I might as well find a new master!”

The moment the words left her lips, Yan Zheng’s gaze darkened. His towering figure loomed over her in an instant. “You want to change masters?”

“Y-yes…?” Sensing the dangerous shift in his demeanor, the sharp-witted woman quickly backtracked. “Well, maybe not. But you have to agree to three conditions! First, you can’t keep getting angry at me!”

Yet Yan Zheng seemed deaf to her demands. His icy stare bore into her as he demanded, “Which master do you want? Someone surnamed Su? Or Pei?”

“Of course, Young Master Lang! The Bai Xiao Pavilion is rolling in silv—mmph!”

This time, she didn’t get to finish before the man sealed her lips with his own.

Gone was the gentle tenderness she remembered. Yan Zheng bent down, parting her teeth with ruthless precision, invading her mouth with a ferocity that left her breathless. Her legs weakened, threatening to buckle, but his large hands steadied her waist, holding her firmly in place.

He shifted to shield her from outside view, trapping her in this intimate space.

Then came an even more merciless assault!

At first, Chu Ruoyan could still push back, but soon her cheeks flushed crimson, tears welling in her eyes as she clutched his robes, shaking her head desperately…

Fortunately, Yan Zheng retained a shred of reason. Seeing her truly overwhelmed, he finally relented.

The first gulp of air that filled her lungs brought one clear thought: How had she ever doubted his prowess?

He was more than capable—overwhelmingly so!

Yan Zheng, slightly breathless himself, dragged his thumb roughly across her swollen lips. “Still thinking of changing masters?”

“No! Never again…” Chu Ruoyan shook her head vigorously, thoroughly cowed by the ordeal.

Just then, Nanny Zhou cleared her throat. “Lord Chief Secretary, Miss, Chief Physician Zhang has arrived!”

The two hastily composed themselves before stepping out.

Chu Ruoyan trailed behind Yan Zheng, watching as he approached Chief Physician Zhang and the others. With effortless grace, he accepted their bows, one hand clasped behind his back while the other gestured for them to rise. “No need for formalities, please.”

The noble bearing and dignified aura he exuded now were a far cry from the man who had just ravaged her moments ago.

Ugh, what a hypocrite!

Chu Ruoyan touched her stinging lips, cursing inwardly.

“Chief Physician Zhang, how is the patient?”

“Lord Yan, County Mistress Changle, I’ve examined Old Madam Cao. She has no external injuries, and her constitution is stable, but…”

Chief Physician Zhang hesitated. Xue Ling urged, “But what? Speak plainly!”

With a sigh, he replied, “Physically, she’s unharmed, but the shock has affected her… The fetus shows signs of instability.”

“What?!” Xue Ling paled instantly. Yan Zheng’s voice turned grave. “Is there a remedy?”

Chief Physician Zhang shook his head. “For most, calming tonics would suffice, but Old Madam Cao is advanced in years. This pregnancy was already precarious, and now with this trauma… It may be difficult to preserve.” Seeing their expressions darken, he hastily added, “But perhaps I lack the skill. If we could summon that old miracle-worker who performed the Qin family’s acupuncture technique, there might still be hope!”

No sooner had he spoken than Qin Yiru’s voice rang out. “What now, what now?! Boy, is this how you invite someone? Do you expect my old bones to scale walls?!”

His grumbling ceased when he spotted the figure on the stretcher. “Well, well! Last time, it was your old man who couldn’t perform. Now it’s your turn? Is your family cursed or something?”

“Elder Qin, please, no jokes! Save my mother!” Xue Ling dropped to her knees.

Qin Yiru waved her off. “Relax, she won’t die.” Then he sidled up to Chu Ruoyan, grinning. “So, little missy, how’s life without emotions? Spill the details!”

Chu Ruoyan stiffened, instinctively glancing at Yan Zheng.

Sure enough, his brow furrowed—he was angry again!

“What’s it like? Save her baby first, and I’ll tell you!” She pointed at Old Madam Cao. Qin Yiru chuckled. “Deal!”

He patted his waist, then feigned dismay. “Ah, no! Rushed here in such a hurry—forgot my needles…”

Before he could finish, the physicians swarmed him.

“Elder Qin, use mine!”

“Mine are better!”

“Elder Qin, mine are tailored to the Qin family’s specifications!”

Qin Yiru rolled his eyes and randomly pointed. “Yours, then.”

Chief Physician Zhang, the chosen one, nearly wept with joy, presenting his kit reverently. “My deepest gratitude, Elder Qin!”

Like martial arts, medical practice required familiarity with one’s tools. Chief Physician Zhang assumed he’d at least assist…

Yet Qin Yiru plucked the needles and moved like lightning—without even lifting the patient’s robes, he struck key acupoints: Zhongwan, Tianshu… By the time the physician registered it, the needles were already withdrawn and returned.

“Two qian each of scutellaria and rehmannia, amomum and peony in standard prenatal doses, three doses daily for two or three courses… Oh, you’re family, right?” Qin Yiru eyed Xue Ling, who nodded frantically. “Yes! Any other instructions?”

“Your mother’s four months along—the pregnancy’s stable. But at her age, she needs regular movement to ease delivery. Just avoid extreme emotions like today, or next time, even I might not save her.”

“Understood! Thank you, Elder Qin!” Xue Ling bowed repeatedly before escorting her mother home.

Chu Ruoyan stole another glance at Yan Zheng, relieved to see his expression soften.

So, keeping this “master” happy included tending to his loved ones…

Qin Yiru sidled up again, but before he could resume his questioning, Chief Physician Zhang and the others encircled him.

“Elder Qin, may we ask who taught you this art?”

“Such mastery! We’ve never seen needlework through clothing!”

“Would you consider joining the Imperial Hospital? We’d prepare the finest accommodations!”

Trapped in the adoring crowd, Qin Yiru couldn’t break free. Seizing the chance, Chu Ruoyan grabbed Yan Zheng’s hand and fled.

She dragged him all the way to the gates. “Let’s go home!”

Yan Zheng studied her, unreadable. “Not seeking your new master anymore?”

“What new master? Aren’t you my only one?” she muttered, pulling him into the carriage.

A faint smile finally touched Yan Zheng’s eyes—until the girl suddenly pounced, yanking at his collar.

“Ah-Yan?!”

He caught her mischievous hands, but she blinked up at him. “Hmm? Don’t you like it?”

Yan Zheng choked. She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “But I really do. What now?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep