Chapter 68: Heaven Envies Genius

After turning around and closing the courtyard gate, Mu Feng brought Jing Wushuang to the door of his mother’s room.

Though it was already noon, his mother was still lying in bed, occasionally coughing. It seemed her condition was getting worse.

“Mother, I’m back!”

Mu Feng called out first from outside the door, waited a moment, then gently entered with Jing Wushuang.

“Well, there are some sweet potatoes and coarse rice in the kitchen. Go cook them yourself.”

In the dimly lit side room, Situ Qing lay quietly on the bed. After giving the instruction, she was about to fall back asleep when she sensed something was wrong, faintly hearing two sets of footsteps—one light, one heavy. She lifted her head slightly and saw Jing Wushuang behind Mu Feng. Surprised, she struggled to sit up. “Feng’er, who is this…”

Seeing his mother’s pale face, Mu Feng hurried forward to stop her. “Mother, don’t move. This is a girl I met in the mountains, named Jing Wushuang. Her family has been practicing medicine for generations and is skilled in treating injuries and colds. Let her take a good look at you.”

“Oh, a family of doctors?”

Hearing this, Situ Qing did not force herself to sit up. Lying in bed, she looked curiously at the girl in white behind her son. “I’m sorry, our humble home is nothing much. Please don’t mind. Feng’er is really something—he didn’t even tell me we had a guest. We’re completely unprepared. I’m so sorry!”

“Auntie, you’re too kind!”

Jing Wushuang bowed slightly. “Mu Manor is one of the most renowned families in Jianning. If this is considered humble, then our mountain house is even more so. Mu Feng is talented and upright. He’s my brother’s sworn brother. Auntie, you can call me Shuang’er, just like Mu Feng does. Please give me your hand—let me check your pulse.”

“Alright.”

Situ Qing nodded and slowly extended her hand. She glanced at her son Mu Feng standing nearby, then at the polite and understanding Jing Wushuang, and the more she looked, the more she liked her. “Shuang’er—what a lovely name.”

“Thank you, Auntie!”

Jing Wushuang smiled and gently placed two slender, pale fingers on Situ Qing’s wrist, concentrating on her pulse. At first, her face held a sweet smile, but gradually her expression grew serious. “Auntie, besides coughing, do you often feel dizzy, have ringing in your ears, or suddenly faint for no reason? Do you feel tired even after doing just a little work?”

“Yes.”

Situ Qing was surprised. She hadn’t expected the seemingly delicate and quiet Jing Wushuang to be so skilled. “I’m getting old, and my health isn’t what it used to be. Maybe a few days of rest will help. Mu Feng, please go get me a cup of water.”

“Of course!”

Mu Feng turned and left, completely unaware that his mother, still lying in bed, gave Jing Wushuang a meaningful glance, signaling her not to say more.

Only after he closed the door and left did Situ Qing cover her mouth and cough violently. Drops of blood stained her white handkerchief. After a moment of silence and catching her breath, she spoke. “Shuang’er, I know my condition best. I developed an incurable illness over ten years ago when I was pregnant with Mu Feng. Tell me, how much time do I have left?”

“Three years—at most. At the very least… maybe…”

Jing Wushuang’s eyes reddened, and she didn’t finish her sentence.

She had initially thought Mu Feng’s mother had a common cold. But the moment she felt her pulse, she knew something was wrong. The pulse was weak and irregular—a clear sign of a fatal illness.

“Three years is enough. I’m already happy and content to have lived long enough to see Mu Feng grow up. Over a decade ago, I should have died and followed Mu Feng’s father to the afterlife.”

Situ Qing’s expression was calm, but the heartbreaking memory from years ago resurfaced in her mind. She closed her eyes, unwilling to dwell on it. After a moment of silence, she slowly opened her eyes and pulled a jade pendant from under her pillow. Taking Jing Wushuang’s right hand, she pressed the pendant into her palm. “Shuang’er, I don’t have much time left. Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Please tell me, Auntie!”

Jing Wushuang nodded quickly, her eyes growing redder. A sparkling tear welled up, but she held it back. The small jade pendant felt warm to the touch, with the characters “Situ” finely carved in the center. It was clearly a rare and precious jade.

Mu Feng’s life was already hard enough—he’d lost his father at birth and had experienced the harshness of the world from a young age. If one day, even his mother, who had been his sole support, were to leave him, how much pain and sorrow would he suffer?

Without his mother, who would guide him when he felt lost?

Who would comfort him when he was sad?

Who would offer him tenderness when he was in pain?

Jing Wushuang felt like crying.

But she held back her tears, though her nose stung with emotion.

“Meeting Mu Feng’s father was enough for me in this lifetime—I have no regrets. The only thing I worry about is Mu Feng. He’s too impulsive, too young…”

Situ Qing’s nose tingled, and as she spoke, her eyes also reddened. After taking a deep breath, she composed herself and continued. “If one day Mu Feng faces any hardship, take this pendant to the Situ Clan in the Imperial Capital and give it to an old man named Situ Buji.”

“Auntie, don’t worry. Shuang’er will remember your words.”

Looking at Situ Qing’s frail face, the tears that had welled in Jing Wushuang’s eyes finally streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away and carefully tucked the small jade pendant close to her body.

“Good, good. Then I can rest easy. Once, I had hoped to live long enough to see Mu Feng grow up, start a family, and build a career. But now, it seems I might not make it to that day… cough… cough… cough…”

Situ Qing was wracked by another bout of painful coughing, spitting more blood than before. After wiping the blood from her lips, as if she had exhausted all her strength, she lay back and fell into a deep sleep, her face unusually peaceful, as if she had finally unburdened her heart. Watching her pale face, Jing Wushuang, standing by the bed, couldn’t hold back her tears. She gently pulled the blanket over her.

“Mother, I’ve brought hot water!”

Mu Feng entered carrying a bowl of hot water, but his eager steps halted when he saw his mother sound asleep.

“Mu Feng, Auntie has fallen asleep. Let’s go out for now.”

Jing Wushuang turned away so Mu Feng wouldn’t see her tears. After wiping them, she picked up her medicine box and left the room first.

Mu Feng followed with the hot water. “Shuang’er, what illness does my mother… actually have?”

“She’s overworked and caught a cold. I’ll prescribe some medicine. If she takes it a few times and rests well, she should be fine.”

Jing Wushuang’s eyes reddened again, and tears nearly fell. She walked to the small pond in the courtyard, splashed cold water on her swollen eyes, and waited a moment before returning to the main hall. There, she wrote a common health-boosting prescription and handed it to Mu Feng. Then, using the excuse of family matters, she hurriedly left with her medicine box. Once outside Mu Manor, she could no longer hold back, and tears poured down her face.

Heaven envies genius!

Heaven gave Mu Feng extraordinary talent and perseverance, allowing him to strive endlessly. Yet, it cruelly and heartlessly took his loved ones away one by one. How merciless!

Jing Wushuang covered her face and left, returning alone to Jing Family Village deep in the mountains. In her grief, she didn’t notice a shadowy figure following her from afar along the way.