After a long while, Fan Xian calmed down, the cold sweat on his body sticking his clothes tightly to his skin.

He withdrew the slender dagger from the assassin's shoulder. The sound of the blade separating flesh from bone was terrifying, making him pause. He also removed a small, insidious crossbow from the dead assassin's sleeve.

The slender dagger was coated in a black substance to avoid reflection, but Fan Xian knew that the black coating, personally prepared by Teacher Fei Jie, not only contained poison but also a drug that amplified the pain of the wounded. He carefully inserted the slender dagger into its hard elephant-hide sheath, glanced at the assassin's corpse on the bed and the old servant's feet beneath it, and then turned to leave.

Pushing open the door, the blind Wu Zhu stood silently at the corner of the stairs. His voice floated over, "What if the carriage doesn't come?"

Fan Xian lowered his head, remaining silent for a long time. Finally overcoming the terrifying feeling that came with taking a life for the first time, he raised his head and revealed his signature smile, "I'll keep him busy until you arrive."

Once again descending from the back wall, the training he had undergone scaling the cliffs outside Danzhou Port finally proved useful. Fan Xian landed on the ground, moving forward, knowing that Wu Zhu would leave him, and that he would reappear when he was next in danger.

Walking through the bustling market, surrounded by the clamor of voices, he remained silent, his right hand, hanging at his side, trembling slightly.

Dragging his heavy steps to the end of the market, he stopped in front of a stall. It was a tofu stall, run by a woman in her twenties with gentle features, wearing an apron and possessing delicate, white hands.

"Sister Dong'er," Fan Xian greeted her with a smile. This was none other than Dong'er, the head maid who had been banished from the Earl's residence. When he was very young, Fan Xian often snuggled in her arms to sleep, and they had always been close. After leaving the residence, Dong'er set up a tofu stall in the market, so Fan Xian often came here to buy tofu for home.

When Dong'er saw that it was him, a gentle smile appeared on her face, and she led him in, "Young Master, what brings you here?"

Sitting on a small stool, with other residents coming to buy tofu, Dong'er looked at him hesitantly.

Fan Xian nodded, letting her attend to her business first. Turning around, he noticed a crib behind the stall, with a two- or three-year-old girl sitting in it, her cheeks rosy, reaching out clumsy hands to play with the little bell tied to the front of the crib.

Fan Xian reached out and picked up the little girl, teasing her. Dong'er turned around, quickly coming over to take her into her arms, complaining, "Don't get your clothes dirty. The maids will have to wash them again when you get back."

Fan Xian chuckled, saying, "Sister Dong'er, when I was as big as your daughter, didn't you hold me every day?"

Dong'er smiled and said, "My young master, how can you compare yourself to us servants?" Strangely, Dong'er had been ruthlessly banished from the Earl's residence by Fan Xian for tasting the saltiness of the food before him, but judging by her tone, she didn't seem to resent the little boy very much.

Fan Xian scratched his head, not knowing what to say. Dong'er seemed to sense that he was in a bad mood, so she teased her daughter, urging her to call out, "Call Young Master, Young...Mas...ter..."

"Call me Little Uncle," Fan Xian insisted.

...

...

He sat in the tofu stall for a long time, watching Dong'er cut tofu, weigh tofu, wrap tofu in paper, and coaxing the little girl beside him to call him Little Uncle. After a long, long time, Fan Xian finally dispelled the coldness in his heart and stood up to bid farewell to Dong'er.

Dong'er said with some hesitation, "You've come all this way, and I don't have anything good to offer you."

Fan Xian laughed, "Sister Dong'er, am I lacking in food?"

"That's true," Dong'er said, covering her mouth with a smile, displaying all the charm of a young woman. She suddenly said, "Thank you, Young Master, for buying these things for the little girl."

Fan Xian shook his head with a smile, "Just as long as you don't blame me for banishing you from the Earl's residence."

Dong'er smiled without speaking. She trusted the little boy in front of her. Although she didn't understand why he had been angry that day at dinner, she knew that he hadn't meant to do it on purpose. Besides, after she left the residence, the young master had often secretly sent her some money. Later, she got married, and her family of three lived a relatively comfortable life. She set up the tofu stall largely because she knew it would make it easier for the young master to visit her.

Fan Xian waved goodbye to Dong'er, the tofu seller. After leaving the market, he turned back and saw the gentle and lovely woman carrying the little girl on her back, cutting tofu in the water. Her slightly forward-leaning figure was still so slender and plump, without showing any signs of age, just like when she had held him ten years ago.

Fan Xian had banished Dong'er from the residence under a pretext because she was his personal maid, and if anything happened to him, she would be very unsafe.

In Fan Xian's "childhood," he loved his personal maid the most, enjoying snuggling against her, even often fantasizing about what he would do when he grew up—but he forgot a crucial point: as he slowly grew up, Dong'er was also growing up day by day. This year he was twelve years old, while Dong'er was already in her twenties.

The story of Baoyu and Qingwen, it seemed, would have to be abandoned halfway.

"I was not born when you were born, and you are old when I was born. You regret that I was born late, and I hate that you were born early. I was not born when you were born, and you are old when I was born. I regret that we were not born at the same time, so that we could be together every day."

He fantasized about how Dong'er loved him to death while humming a tune, returning to the Earl's residence, trying to convince himself that he had forgotten the pairs of dead fish eyes staring side by side, belonging to the assassin and the old servant.

—————————————————————————

Because he had eaten a meal of "cat-button" poison mixed with bamboo poles for lunch, and then snapped someone's neck in the afternoon, Fan Xian's appetite became extremely poor. He only ate a little bit of dinner before putting down his bowl and returning to his bedroom.

When night fell, he felt a little hungry. He lit an oil lamp and went to the kitchen alone, quietly without disturbing any of the servants.

Entering the kitchen, he cleanly washed a fish. The kitchen knife danced in his hands like a bird, scaling, gutting, and filleting in a flash. He then used the radish-slicing skills that Wu Zhu had forced him to learn, slicing some ginger strips. The knife landed on the cutting board without making a sound. Next, he added some vinegar to the small plate holding the ginger strips.

Start a fire, boil water, steam the fish fat.

Squatting on the ground, gazing at the stove beside him, watching the slowly rising steam, Fan Xian suddenly thought of something funny: Teacher Fei Jie and Uncle Wu Zhu, because of his mother, were teaching him how to kill and how to avoid being killed, but objectively, they had also taught him how to be a good doctor and a successful cook.