Spoiled Eldest Miss x Two-faced Madman

CHAPTER 30: “I’ll Allow You To Call Me By My Name.”

　　The favorability score finally broke past zero—it was now a positive number.

　　An Jiu was thrilled on the inside, but she knew the importance of stopping while she was ahead. For the rest of the day, she behaved unusually well—no tantrums, no troublemaking. So much so that Ah Qi kept looking at her with a strange expression, as if she’d become a completely different person.

　　That entire day, An Jiu stayed at the clinic with Pei Ji and Ah Qi. This particular clinic was actually a hidden asset of the Medicine King Valley.

　　In other words, the two famous sects in the world are Zhujian Villa and Medicine King Valley.

　　One ran a blacksmith shop where their best-selling item was a pots; The other ran a clinic where they prescribed and dispensed medicine.

　　Such down-to-earth sects of the martial world truly broadened An Jiu’s horizons.

　　Clearly, people of the jianghu didn’t just live lives of poetry, romance, swordplay, and calligraphy—they still had to eat, drink, and make money. Without money, you couldn’t move an inch anywhere.

　　In this world, gold and silver were the desires of all. Even a realm as full of vendettas and heroism as the jianghu was not exempt.

　　Pei Ji’s free consultations were nothing special. He didn’t go out of his way to reveal his identity—he simply hung a sign at the door stating ‘Free Clinic’ and sat inside diagnosing and prescribing medicine for those who came seeking help. He looked just like any other ordinary doctor.

　　An Jiu realized there really wasn’t much she could help with, and boredom began to creep in. So she volunteered to be the accountant to collect the money.

　　“This is your change—forty wen.”

　　“That’s one qian and thirty-two wen, right?”

　　“Yes, yes, that’s right.”

　　An Jiu was incredibly fast at doing the math. She didn’t even need an abacus; a quick mental calculation was enough for her to instantly give the right amount. Her accuracy was so impressive that people couldn’t help but glance over in surprise.

　　In this era, it was rare for women to study such things. Most were taught embroidery, poetry, and painting. Arithmetic, even to common folk, wasn’t something they held in high regard.

　　Ah Qi kept sneaking looks at her and eventually couldn’t help asking, “Miss An, your arithmetic is really good.”

　　An Jiu shot him a glance without saying a word, but lifted her chin proudly.

　　She had been studying business management with her grandfather since her early teens. Before the age of eighteen, she had already taken over a company, and through a series of smart decisions, turned its losses into profit. From then on, she caught the attention of the ‘old foxes’ within the group and officially stepped into the public spotlight as a contender for the next heir.

　　Did they really think all of this was just because of her famously bad temper?

　　People in the family often used her personality against her, claiming she was too domineering to be a decision-maker. But An Jiu knew the truth—they were scared. They couldn’t beat her in terms of ability, so they resorted to public opinion instead.

　　Real battles are fought with the brain, not the mouth.

　　Ah Qi asked again, “Miss An, even though you live in the Shangsu Mansion, you still have to learn bookkeeping?”

　　“The matriarch of a noble family has to manage daily expenses and ledgers—of course you need to learn.”

　　In truth, large families usually had professional accountants to handle all that. But neither Ah Qi nor Pei Ji had ever seen a noblewoman up close—much less dared to question her—so she casually glossed over it.

　　As she spoke, An Jiu turned her gaze toward Pei Ji, who was not far off preparing herbal medicine.

　　The pharmacy was set up much like a ¹traditional Chinese medicine shop in modern times. All the herbs were stored in small cubbyholes that lined an entire wall behind the counter. Each compartment had a name written on it, with rows stretching from the floor all the way up to two meters high.

　　The young man in white looked up, eyes falling on the herb labeled fu pen zi (raspberry). Clearly, he couldn’t reach it without standing, and just as he turned to call Ah Qi, An Jiu darted over and opened the cabinet for him herself. She looked down and asked, “How much do you need?”

　　Pei Ji hesitated for a moment. “...Three liang.”

　　An Jiu estimated the amount and scooped up a handful. Pei Ji took it and weighed it with a small golden scale, took out three taels, and put it into the yellow paper bag containing medicine.

　　An Jiu returned the excess herbs back to the compartment—all in one smooth, efficient motion.

　　Ah Qi stared wide-eyed. He couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so cooperative and even helping out.

　　Of course, An Jiu noticed their surprise. She simply said she was in a good mood.

　　In truth, besides being in a good mood, she also didn’t want to ruin this free clinic event.

　　Pei Ji’s medical skills were excellent. His diagnosis could be a blessing for ordinary people. And seemingly to protect the reputation of the Medicine King Valley, he didn’t charge any consultation fees—only medicine costs.

　　Whenever he treated someone, his expression was always serious. Whether it was a wealthy noble or a commoner—he even treated a ragged beggar who had come all the way from outside the city after hearing about the free clinic—Pei Ji never treated anyone differently.

　　In his eyes, every patient was the same. All were people who needed help.

　　That beggar was severely ill and had no money for medicine. He thought he was close to death and, not wanting to die without knowing the cause, came here just to understand what sickness he had.

　　Pei Ji, hearing the beggar’s words, immediately offered to treat him for free at the clinic.

　　In that moment, dressed in pure white like fresh snow, full of compassion for the world’s suffering, he truly resembled the living Bodhisattva people spoke of.

　　An Jiu couldn’t understand—how could one person have such opposing sides?

　　On one hand, he killed without hesitation, cold and ruthless; on the other, he was gentle and kind, full of mercy.

　　Pei Ji had been practicing medicine for years and had saved countless lives. But he also founded the Qiānshā (Thousand Kill) Pavilion and has killed countless people over the years.

　　Light and dark were tightly interwoven in this man, forming a deeply complex core.

　　An Jiu couldn’t read him. But at this moment, she suddenly felt a desire to understand what was going on in this man’s head. She wanted to know—what kind of life could forge someone like Pei Ji?

　　Lost in a swirl of wild thoughts, the day’s free clinic eventually came to a smooth end.

　　Things went smoothly on Pei Ji’s end, but the male and female leads had run into a bit of trouble.

　　The notorious bandit that He Ziqing and Lin Qingyan were tracking had been cunning, slipping through every corner of the city. After running around all day and practically turning Pinglan City upside down, they finally picked up a faint lead.

　　They crossed paths with the fugitive, but he struck fiercely, slashing Lin Qingyan’s arm. In the chaos, He Ziqing, trying to protect her, accidentally let him escape.

　　The two returned empty-handed, and though Lin Qingyan’s wound wasn’t serious, it meant she couldn’t continue the chase. From now on, only He Ziqing would be able to carry on with the pursuit.

　　At dinner, Lin Qingyan, pale-faced, said, “We didn’t catch him, but we managed to plant Liuxiang on him. We should be able to capture him tomorrow.”

　　He Ziqing replied, “I’ll go alone tomorrow. Miss Lin, you focus on resting and healing.”

　　An Jiu glanced at the couple across from her, then sneaked a peek at Pei Ji quietly sitting beside her, picking fish bones out of her food.

　　Lin Qingyan got injured and could no longer spend time alone with He Ziqing... Could Pei Ji have had something to do with that?

　　The next second, she was caught red-handed. The man lifted his gaze to her, a slight trace of confusion in his gentle eyes.

　　“Miss An, what are you looking at?”

　　Looking to see if you’ve been up to no good again.

　　The big boss image was too deeply ingrained—maybe she was being overly paranoid.

　　An Jiu cleared her throat. “Nothing. Oh right, I’ve been calling you Pei Ji, but why do you keep calling me Miss An?”

　　Pei Ji’s eyes were warm, his tone mild and good-tempered. “If Miss An doesn’t mind, I can certainly call you by your name directly.”

　　An Jiu raised her chin and gave him a sideways glance, saying haughtily as if bestowing a great honor, “I permit you to call me by my name.”

　　Pei Ji placed a piece of deboned fish into a small dish and set it in front of the girl. At some point, these gestures had become second nature to him—almost a habit.

　　And when faced with the girl’s prideful tone, his first reaction was no longer the disgust he once felt.

　　His gaze landed on her bright face, watching her pick up the snowy-white fish, place it into her mouth, and chew. Her rosy lips closed delicately, her cheeks puffed slightly—her fair face resembling a soft little bun.

　　He should be repulsed, and yet... something about her was inexplicably drawing him in.

　　It was strange. That dry tightness in his throat that arose when she got too close—it made Pei Ji feel vaguely uneasy.

　　As if something was slipping out of his control, drifting toward the unknown.

　　After dinner, everyone returned to their rooms to rest.

　　Pei Ji was sitting in the room when suddenly there was a gentle knock at the door. He opened it to find a young woman in green standing outside.

　　“Come in,” Pei Ji said, his expression calm, as if he had expected this.

　　Lin Qingyan had been injured—it was only natural she would come to him at night for help dressing the wound. It had been the same in the previous life. His role in this group was just that: tending to their wounds and offering some occasional support.

　　“Sorry to trouble you, Pei Ji,” Lin Qingyan said, taking a seat at the table and rolling up her sleeve, revealing a section of her forearm.

　　Her skin was snow-white, and a strip of gauze was wrapped around her arm, stained with tiny flecks of blood.

　　She began unwrapping it layer by layer, revealing the bright red, jagged wound beneath. Against the flawless whiteness of her surrounding skin, it looked especially jarring.

　　Perhaps because of the pain, her face was slightly pale. Resting her injured arm on the table, she said, “The cut’s a bit deep. I just wrapped it up casually—I don’t know if it’ll scar.”

　　“You should have more faith in my medical skills.”

　　The young man in white sat across from her, opened the medicine box, and took out various tools. He cleaned the blood first, then used his fair, slender fingers to grasp a porcelain bottle and sprinkle medicinal powder over the wound.

　　“Hiss…”

　　Lin Qingyan let out a soft cry of pain, but she was tough. She bit her lip after just one sound, and though cold sweat formed on her forehead, she didn’t make another noise.

　　Strangely, Pei Ji thought of that delicate girl.

　　The one who trembled all over with just a touch, who teared up the moment anything hurt, who screamed during acupuncture like she wanted the entire world to hear her.

　　An Jiu and Lin Qingyan were practically complete opposites.

　　At that moment, Lin Qingyan casually asked, “Pei Ji, that day when you gave Miss An acupuncture—what exactly were you treating?”

　　Pei Ji’s fingers paused briefly, then continued applying the medicine without a trace of hesitation. He said calmly, “She wasn’t feeling well, so she asked me to help adjust her condition.”

　　Lin Qingyan pressed her lips together and asked again, “Miss An went out with you today. Did she trouble you again?”

　　At her words, Pei Ji slightly lifted his gaze to look at her. The candlelight reflected in his dark eyes, and his clear gaze seemed to see right through everything.

　　He asked in a quiet voice, “Qingyan, why are you asking me that?”

　　Lin Qingyan couldn’t quite describe how she felt at that moment. She could tell that Miss An and Pei Ji were growing close—after all, neither of them knew martial arts, so whenever she and He Ziqing went out, the two would naturally stay behind together.

　　She really had no reason to mind. In fact, every time she went out with He Ziqing, a faint, inexplicable sense of joy would bloom in her heart.

　　She had always seen this gentle childhood friend who looked after her so well as an older brother.

　　But seeing another girl gradually draw closer to him made her feel strangely uneasy inside.

　　Lin Qingyan couldn’t help but feel a bit lost. Who did she actually like?

　　When she was with Brother He, she always felt genuinely happy. She liked his strength and righteousness, his kindness and sincerity. Even though he often came across as clumsy, she found that awkwardness endearingly unique.

　　As for Pei Ji...

　　During dinner tonight, she had noticed his eyes lingering on Miss An, his attentiveness toward her unusually detailed.

　　Even though they had grown up together, he had never treated her that way.

　　That realization filled Lin Qingyan with a deep sense of loss—like something that used to belong to her alone was quietly slipping away.

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Glossary:

¹Traditional Chinese medicine shop

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