Chapter 4 — When I was born again, I was content to keep my hands to myself, but that cold and powerful God was frantic again

After returning, he would constantly think about every word and sentence he said. But right now I just feel tired. Every sentence he spoke seemed to be separated by a layer of fog, forever making it impossible for others to guess what he wanted to say.

“Thank you, Marquis Bui, for your reminder.”

I bowed, and the tone when I said the words "thank you" was exactly the same as when I said it to Co Truong Uyen just now. Bui Dien Chi's fingers tightened the reins for a moment, then slowly relaxed. He spurred his horse and left, his dark purple back quickly disappearing into the deepest part of the sea of brilliant lights. Co Truong Uyen turned around and looked at me, her eyes gentle.

“Miss Shen, do you need me to take you back?”

I shook my head.

“Bich Dao is still waiting for me.”

“That lamp.”

He pointed to the military lantern in my hand.

“Apricot blossoms can withstand frost and snow, but lantern paper is very thin, don't let the snow get wet.”

After speaking, he smiled softly, clasped his hands and said goodbye. The moon-white figure gradually blended into the crowded crowd and was soon no longer visible. Bich Dao appeared from nowhere, holding two bowls of hot condensed milk in her hands, smiling and giving me one bowl.

“Miss, that Doctor Co is really very good.”

I received the bowl of hot condensed milk, the temperature from the hot white ceramic bowl transmitted straight into my palm. In his previous life, everyone in the Royal Hospital said Co Truong Uyen's personality was very good, but deep in his bones he carried the stubbornness of a reader. That's why he went to treat the invalid Crown Prince. So even though he knew he would offend others, he still went to Linh Nam. Bui Dien Chi said he "doesn't know the time", but I feel that it's not that he doesn't know the time, but that he has a limit in his heart, things that cross that boundary, he will not do. In February, I handed over the house to the salt merchant, then took Bich Dao with me and moved to an inn in the south of the city, planning to wait for warmer weather before heading down to Giang Nam. On the last rainy day before leaving the capital, Bich Dao had a fever. She had a very high fever, her forehead was as hot as a stovetop, her lips were dry and cracked, and her whole body was drowsy and constantly complaining of the cold. I covered her with two more layers of blanket, then went to the kitchen to cook ginger soup myself. When I returned with the bowl of medicine, she was huddled under the blanket, trembling, her face an unusual red color. I reached out to check her pulse. During the years in the Marquis Palace of my previous life, I became accustomed to being sick for a long time, and I also learned how to read a few simple types of veins. Her pulse was both rapid and swollen, clearly a sign of the onset of cold and wind, and just relying on ginger soup was not enough. The rain fell very heavily. I held my umbrella and walked out. The snow in the city continued to fall, and the cold wind whipped my face painfully. Most of the pharmacies on both sides of the street were closed early. The lights of the three houses were still on, two of them said that the doctor who had been examined had returned to the palace to rest, the other house said that the doctor was not sure where he had gone... We walked along the long street covered with white snow, until we got to the east of the city to find a pharmacy that was still open. The lantern in front of the porch was swayed by the snowy wind and flickered. Tieu Nhi saw me entering and quickly approached.

“Miss, do you want to smoke?”

“Where is the doctor?”

I brushed the snow off my shoulder and asked in a low voice. Tieu Nhi showed up awkward.

“The doctor just went out to diagnose the patient.”

“Still not coming back yet.”

"When will I return... I don't know, little man."

I stood under the eaves of the pharmacy, rainwater flowing down the roof tiles, splashing onto my feet in layers of tiny bubbles. Across the street is a restaurant, next to the window on the second floor there are a few people sitting, including a person wearing jet black civilian clothes, Bui Dien Chi. He saw me. Separated by a thick curtain of rain, his eyes fell on them. I don't move. He also didn't move. The sound of the rain was so loud that between heaven and earth it seemed like there was only this opposite gaze left. Then he stood up, said something to the person next to him, and then went downstairs.

“Who is sick?”

He leaned forward with a black oil-paper umbrella, the rainwater falling on the umbrella's surface made dull sounds.

“My maid.”

“Get in the car.”

His carriage is parked behind the tavern. I hesitated a bit, but Bich Dao's fever couldn't last any longer, so I finally followed him into the car. The inside of the carriage is very spacious, with a gray felt carpet on the floor, and a copper fireplace is placed in the corner of the carriage. He gave me the fireplace, but I didn't accept it.

“I'm not cold.”

His hand stopped in mid-air for a moment, then placed the fireplace on the seat next to me. The carriage stopped in front of a medical shop. Bui Dien Chi got out of the car first, stood in the rain holding an umbrella for me... The doctor checked Bich Dao's pulse, said it was an accumulation of wind and cold, prescribed three steps of medicine, saying that as long as the fever subsided tonight, there would be no more concerns.