58: Chapter 58 Qingge Stays in the Capital to Observe Chen Xuan

When Chen Xuan opened his eyes, the sky was just beginning to brighten, and the rattan chair in the courtyard still held the chill of the previous night.

He sat up and stretched, his bones letting out a sharp crack.

He looked up at the sky; the clouds were thin enough for light to filter through. It was a fine day.

He didn't call for anyone, carrying the bucket to the well himself to draw water. Pulling and releasing the rope, his movements were extremely practiced.

After washing up, he shuffled out of the courtyard gate in his slippers, picking up an empty bucket left at the door by an old woman next door.

The old lady was bending over, holding onto the doorframe. Seeing him, she was taken aback: "Oh, Young Master Chen, I couldn't possibly let you do that."

"It's on my way."

Chen Xuan smiled and placed the bucket on the stone platform in her courtyard, the bottom of the bucket making a soft thud.

He didn't linger, turning to leave and strolling toward the marketplace with his hands behind his back.

Li Qingge sat on the eaves of a restaurant in the west of the city, her legs dangling in mid-air, lightly rubbing a roof tile in her hand.

She had arrived the night before, originally intending to take one look and leave, but for some reason, her footsteps had stopped.

At this moment, she watched his retreating figure, her brow furrowing slightly.

In the distance, Chen Xuan squatted down to help a fruit vendor pick up peaches scattered across the ground. He patted a child's shoulder and said something that made the child grin.

He pulled out a few copper coins, pressed them into the stall owner's hand, and walked away with a wave.

"He doesn't seem as frivolous as the rumors say."

Li Qingge murmured to herself, her fingertips unconsciously brushing the sword tassel at her waist. She leaped down from the eaves, her form gliding along the base of the wall like a fallen leaf as she quietly followed him.

The sun rose higher. Chen Xuan crossed two streets and turned into the main gate of his own residence.

As soon as he entered, he heard an argument coming from the east wing. Two young attendants stood under the corridor, neither backing down. One claimed the duty roster was wrong, while the other accused the first of being lazy and refusing to keep watch.

Chen Xuan didn't get angry or shout for them to stop. He walked straight into the study, pulled out the night watch records from half a month ago, flipped through the pages, and finally pointed to one line:

"You've kept watch for five consecutive nights; you should rest. He covered a shift for you the day before yesterday; make sure to record that as well."

The two lowered their heads in silence, their faces flushing red.

Closing the booklet, he said, "The kitchen has brewed some ginger soup. Go get a bowl and drink it while it's hot."

Then he turned to the cook and said, "Prepare another medicine pot. I'll watch the fire myself."

Li Qingge hid behind an old locust tree outside the courtyard, revealing only her eyes.

She saw Chen Xuan squatting before the stove, stirring the medicinal broth with a spoon in one hand while testing the temperature of the bowl's rim with the other. Only then did he pick it up, blow on it twice, and hand it to the exhausted attendant.

"Don't force yourself. If your body collapses, no one can be counted on." He spoke softly, but his words carried weight.

Her heart stirred. Sword Cultivators sought to sever worldly ties and focus solely on the Dao.

She had once thought that mundane trifles were all burdens that the strong needn't concern themselves with.

Yet the person before her clearly possessed martial arts, yet he didn't avoid these chores, instead handling them personally.

She suddenly remembered her Revered Master's dying words: "The Dao is not in the heavens, but within the smoke and fire of the mortal world."

In the afternoon, Chen Xuan sat by a stone table in the courtyard, an old prescription spread out before him.

Using a charcoal pen, he crossed out two ingredients and added three mace of Astragalus and five fen of Angelica, noting in small characters on the side: "Weak constitution and blood deficiency; requires slow nourishment, avoid potent medicine."

The cook took the note, nodded, and withdrew.

Li Qingge recognized that prescription. It was an improved version of the Yangrong Decoction circulated in the Jianghu, originally used for the recuperation of noble ladies. How could ordinary servants be worthy of such a formula?

She knew even better that such dosage adjustments required not only an understanding of medical principles but also long-term observation of the patient to get right.

She couldn't help but wonder: When had he noticed a maidservant's physical condition?

She no longer hid, landing on a willow tree outside the courtyard wall and quietly watching his profile.

The sunlight shone obliquely on his fingers as he rubbed his chin; the movement was casual, yet it exuded an indescribable steadiness.

As dusk approached, Chen Xuan left the residence and climbed up the city gate tower. The guards recognized him and didn't stop him, merely cupping their fists in greeting.

He walked to the battlements and stood against the gray bricks, watching the cooking smoke rising from the distant market districts, drifting toward the sky like someone writing on the earth.

The wind rose, fluttering the corners of his robes. He suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, as if speaking to the wind: "People say I want to climb high by clinging to the Dragon and Phoenix, but in truth, I only want to protect these few smiling faces before me."

He smiled after speaking, then whispered, "Every one of them has quite a temper, kicking doors and smashing windows at the drop of a hat. But if I truly lost even one, my heart would feel empty."

These words scattered with the wind, unanswered. But on the eaves at the other end of the gate tower, Li Qingge heard them clearly.

She stood there, her white clothes snapping in the wind, her fingers slowly releasing the hilt of her sword.

She had originally thought he was the kind of opportunist who relied on women to rise, navigating between the powerful and wealthy while craving pleasure.

Yet what she saw today was him helping an elder carry water, picking up fruit for a child, adjusting shifts for servants, and even brewing and testing a bowl of medicine himself.

He claimed to be a Salted Fish who didn't want to move, yet he didn't neglect a single task. It wasn't that he didn't know how to compete, but rather that he was unwilling to fight for those hollow names and fleeting profits.

What moved her most was that sentence: "Protect these few smiling faces before me."

She had practiced the sword for twenty years and traveled the Jianghu for ten, seeing too many people abandon affection and loyalty for power, and sever ties for the sake of their Realm.

She too had once believed that heartlessness was the ultimate strength, but at this moment, she felt that perhaps true strength was not severing everything, but being willing to protect even while knowing it would hurt.

She landed softly without disturbing anyone. The last ray of the setting sun shone on her face, reflecting a very faint smile.

"I thought he was a profligate playing with the world, but it turns out he is the one who understands cherishing most."

She whispered, then turned to leave, her figure merging into the twilight, leaving only a soft murmur floating in the wind: "Let's observe a bit longer."

Chen Xuan was still standing on the gate tower, his hands resting on the battlements, watching the lights of the market districts light up one by one.

He didn't know someone had watched him all day, nor did he know his words had been overheard.

He only knew that today's tasks were all settled: the water was carried, the quarrel was mediated, the medicine was brewed, and dinner was almost ready.

He rubbed his nose and turned to head downstairs, his pace still leisurely.

Walking to a street corner, a noodle stall was steaming. The owner recognized him and greeted him with a smile: "Young Master Chen, the usual?"

"Add an egg."

After saying that, he found a low stool and sat down, crossing his legs as he waited for that bowl of steaming noodles to be served.