After transmigrating into the book, I helped my mother reconcile with her divorced husband.

Han Ting was attacked and injured, and Lu Zhiyuan went to bring him medicine.

The Qinghe Gang members were guarding there, and when they saw her coming, they quickly stood at attention.

"Has your gang leader woken up yet?"

"He's...he's not awake yet."

Lu Zhiyuan handed the medicine bowl to the gang member: "This is the medicine I prepared for him. It's not bitter. Feed it to him when he wakes up."

The gang member didn't accept, but took a step back. "Madam, why don't you let me go through fire and water? I can't do this job of feeding the gang leader medicine."

Lu Zhiyuan raised an eyebrow: "Why? Your gang leader isn't a baby."

"He's not even as good as a baby." A member of the gang complained, "Our leader is afraid of nothing but taking medicine. Not to mention a baby, even the elders in the gang who have watched him grow up don't dare to feed him."

Lu Zhiyuan knew that Han Ting was afraid of bitterness and taking medicine, but that was all from when he was a child. She never imagined that the grown-up Han Ting would become even more difficult than he was as a child. Not only did he refuse to take medicine, but he also bullied others, forcing anyone who tried to give him medicine to take medicine ten times more bitter than his own.

What good boss would force their subordinates to take medicine?

Over the years, everyone became afraid of him and dreaded the task of giving him medicine.

Lu Zhiyuan sighed softly and carried the bowl of medicine into the house.

As soon as she entered, she smelled a mixture of medicine and blood, which was unpleasant to smell. She first went to open the window, and then went to the bedside. Han Ting was still asleep, but his sleep was very restless, with his brows slightly furrowed. Due to blood loss, his originally fair skin had turned bluish, and he looked sickly.

Lu Zhiyuan first touched his forehead, then lifted his shirt and saw a thin cloth wrapped around his chest, with blood seeping through.

"Fool, you're injured like this and you're still telling me you're fine."

A lump formed in her throat, and she turned her head away, not because of the new wound on his body, but because of the old wounds that had already healed.

One of the wounds was on his heart; the scar has faded, but it still looks gruesome.

He had mentioned this wound in his letter, but only briefly. That one stroke, a hair's breadth off, almost cost him his life.

Others said he was amazing; in just a few years, he went from a young boy to the leader of the world's number one gang.

Only he himself knows how difficult this road is.

Open attacks and hidden arrows are both impossible to defend against.

Rumor has it that the leader of the Qinghe Gang is extremely narcissistic and loves his own face the most.

The world misunderstands him. The reason he protects his face is because Lu Zhiyuan likes it. Otherwise, he would have disfigured himself long ago.

Lu Zhiyuan called his name twice and saw him slowly open his eyes.

Her eyes, so beautiful they were almost unreal, were now weak, even a little watery, making her look pitiful. Upon seeing her, his gaze deepened, and he grabbed her arm.

Lu Zhiyuan slapped his hand away, propped up his pillow, and said calmly, "Take your medicine."

She picked up the medicine bowl, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it to his lips. He frowned slightly and moved a little.

Lu Zhiyuan snorted: "I caught it, I brewed it, are you sure you don't want to drink it?"

Han Ting obediently opened his mouth.

He took one bite and frowned.

"Is it bitter?" Lu Zhiyuan took a sip: "It's not bitter. I added extra licorice on purpose."

Han Ting stared at her, and his eyes met with a single glance.

She was tasting his medicine, using the same spoon she had just used to feed him.

A strange flutter stirred within him, but he suppressed it and explained, "I was always getting hurt in those years, and I drank too much bitter medicine. I didn't want to drink it anymore, and I was afraid to drink it."

"How old are you? Still afraid of taking medicine?" Lu Zhiyuan scoffed. "What did I tell you when you left the capital? Even if you're afraid, you have to endure it, pretend it, and don't let outsiders know. If outsiders know, it will be your weakness."

Han Ting laughed: "What kind of weakness is it to be afraid of bitter medicine? Are you suggesting I get something sweet instead, and then add some poison to it?"

Lu Zhiyuan asked in surprise, "Has no one ever done this before? What a pity, so many opportunities to successfully assassinate you have been missed."

Han Ting was surprised and stared at Lu Zhiyuan with wide eyes.

That's what a young lady is like; she can even come up with this kind of murder method.

Talking won't stop me from giving the medicine.

Lu Zhiyuan would say a sentence and feed him a spoonful, and Han Ting would cooperate by slightly bowing and drinking it.

The medicine was very bitter, so bitter that Han Ting's beautiful features scrunched up, and tears welled up in his eyes, but he still obediently drank the medicine.

"Why are you staring at the medicine bowl in my hand?" Lu Zhiyuan turned the bowl upside down for him to see: "It's all gone, I drank it all. Or, I'll go to the kitchen and get you another bowl."

"A spoon," Han Ting said weakly. "I need a spoon."

spoon?

Lu Zhiyuan looked at the wooden spoon in her hand. It was an ordinary spoon; the Xie family had plenty of them in their kitchen. What did he want this for? Oh well, the injured are the most important, the sick are the most important. If he likes it, she'll keep it; it'll save her the trouble of bringing a spoon when delivering medicine at night.

"Here's the spoon. Lie down properly. I still need to deliver medicine to Lu Yun. You all keep saying you'll protect me and take care of me, but what do you do? You make me, a sickly, dying person, take care of you. How can you bear to do that?"

"Miss."

"I know, I shouldn't have said such unlucky things as 'a dying person'." Lu Zhiyuan tucked him in. "Get some rest."

I'll come see you later.

"Miss," Han Ting called out to her, "Promise me you won't leave suddenly."

Lu Zhiyuan's heart skipped a beat: "What nonsense are you talking about? Putting aside my frail health, given my status as the Crown Princess, how could I suddenly leave? Originally, I planned to travel incognito to secretly investigate the matter of the grain supplies. However, this matter is extremely complicated, and my identity and the Crown Prince's identity have already been discovered by others. Rather than continuing to conceal it, which is detrimental to myself, it's better to be open and honest, at least to deter those people from acting openly. Did you hear the sounds outside? They're all here to... to protect me and the Crown Prince. I'm neither a bee nor a bird; how can I leave without making a sound?"

"Miss knows that what I said is not true."

"Okay, I know." Lu Zhiyuan said indulgently, "Even if I go to the underworld, I will let you know in advance."

"It's not just about informing you." Han Ting's voice lowered: "The road to the underworld is long, I'll accompany you, Miss."

“Han Ting…” Lu Zhiyuan paused in her move to leave, a pang of sadness gripping her heart. “Birth, aging, sickness, and death are both the will of Heaven and the natural order. I gave you my life, and supported you to become the leader of the Qinghe Gang, not so that you would live for me. Han Ting, you have your own life. If you were to die with me, I wouldn't be happy; instead, I would blame you, resent you, and never see you again.”

Han Ting remained silent for a moment.

"Then can you tell me, who exactly are you?" She looked up, gripping the wooden spoon tightly in her hand. "I know you are not the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Pingnan's household."

I've looked into her; her personality is different from the young lady's. Even when facing life and death, a person can't become a different person overnight.

"If I am not Lu Zhiyuan of the Marquis of Pingnan's mansion, then who am I?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you, Miss."

"That……"

Lu Zhiyuan leaned closer to him: "What if I told you that I am a demon who has been resurrected from a corpse?"

Han Ting's eyes lit up: "You know the method?"

Lu Zhiyuan blinked and hesitated, "You want to learn? What do you want to do with it? Possess a dead body? It won't work if they've been dead for many years, like your parents, there's no way for them to come back to life."