Oops! The Black Lotus Can’t Be a Female Supporting Character

CHAPTER 13

The courtyard was silent as Haitang watched Concubine Cui and Shi disappeared momo into the distance before turning back into the house.

The door curtain hung still, and both inside and outside remained eerily quiet, without the slightest ripple of disturbance.

Haitang stepped into the eastern side room but found no one there. She then turned to the small study and respectfully reported to Xiao Yanfei, who stood before the bookshelf, “Miss, Concubine Cui has left.”

Xiao Yanfei carefully placed the stack of medical books onto the shelf, one by one, before rubbing her temples.

She couldn’t quite understand why Concubine Cui was urging her to plead with Madam to refuse the marriage proposal from the Duke of Wei’s household. What was her true intention?

Xiao Yanfei replayed every reaction Concubine Cui had just shown. One thing was certain—she didn’t have good intentions.

Just like in her memories, when Concubine Cui manipulated the original Xiao Yanfei.

Every time, the outcome was the same. Concubine Cui reaped the benefits, while the original Xiao Yanfei bore the misfortune.

The former Xiao Yanfei had been too blind to see the truth, relying on her birth mother. But now, as an outsider looking in, she saw things clearly.

Whatever Concubine Cui’s motives were, since she was so eager to push her into this, Xiao Yanfei would do the opposite.

Xiao Yanfei placed the remaining books onto the shelf, leaving only Treatise on Cold Damage in her hands. She planned to take her time finishing it over the next couple of days.

As she turned around, she saw Haitang approaching with a steaming cup of tea. “Miss, I’ve brewed some Biluochun for you.”

Xiao Yanfei was about to instruct Haitang to set the tea on the desk when her gaze swept across the huanghuali wood writing desk—and she suddenly froze.

At the center of the desk lay a small, exquisite jade paperweight in the shape of a sleeping fox. Beneath it was a tiny slip of paper.

A gust of wind swept through the room, causing the paper to tremble like the delicate wings of a butterfly.

Xiao Yanfei’s heart clenched. In two swift steps, she reached the desk and, without a hint of hesitation, casually placed Treatise on Cold Damage atop the paperweight, concealing the note.

Once Haitang had set down the tea, Xiao Yanfei waved a hand dismissively. “You may go. I’d like some quiet to read.”

Haitang obeyed and quietly withdrew.

Now alone, Xiao Yanfei sank into a curved-back chair by the window.

One of the window panels had been left open, swaying in the wind with a rhythmic creak.

Beyond the window, the courtyard lay empty, save for a single camellia tree in full bloom. Its crimson petals swayed gently in the golden glow of the setting sun, bathed in clouds of radiant dusk.

Xiao Yanfei glanced out the window before slowly lifting Treatise on Cold Damage, revealing the jade paperweight and the slip of paper beneath it.

She recalled that when she had first entered the study, the window had already been open. She hadn’t paid it any mind at the time—nor had she noticed the paperweight, which didn’t belong there.

Lowering her gaze, she picked up the slip of paper.

Eight characters were written on it: “At dawn tomorrow, meet at Wancao Hall.”

The strokes were bold and forceful, carrying an energy as sharp as piercing wind and cracking stone.

Even without a signature, Xiao Yanfei immediately knew who had left it.

“Ah…”

She stared at the note in a daze for a long moment before letting out a long sigh.

She had always known Gu Feichi was highly skilled in martial arts. But the marquis’s estate had walls at least three meters high, with guards patrolling the grounds—yet he had managed to slip in undetected, leave this note, and vanish without a trace.

Xiao Yanfei swallowed, a chill running down her spine. A belated sense of unease settled over her.

The chilling edge of a blade seemed to press against her neck once more, sending a shiver down her spine.

What was meant to come could not be avoided.

Tomorrow it is, then. The sooner she cured his father, the safer her own life would be.

After burning the note, Xiao Yanfei tucked the jade paperweight into her pouch and flipped open Treatise on Cold Damage. The classical text was dense and archaic, but fortunately, the original Xiao Yanfei had been well-versed in the Five Classics and historical texts since childhood, making it easier for her to understand the medical terminology.

No wonder the old saying went: A scholar learning medicine is like catching a chicken in a cage.

In the end, knowledge was everything.

Xiao Yanfei believed that much of human anxiety stemmed from uncertainty. But now that she had received Gu Feichi’s message, she felt oddly at ease. She read when it was time to read, ate when it was time to eat, and slept when it was time to sleep.

With a peaceful mind, sleep came naturally. That night, she slept soundly, dreamless until dawn.

The next morning, she left the house at the agreed time.

The original Xiao Yanfei had spent most of her life confined to the marquis’s estate, rarely stepping beyond its gates. It was only yesterday that Xiao Yanfei learned she merely needed to inform Madam before going out.

Wancao Hall, the location mentioned in the note, was only two streets away from the marquis’s residence—a mere fifteen-minute walk.

After sending Haitang off to buy pastries from a nearby shop, Xiao Yanfei carried her newly purchased wooden medicine box and entered Wancao Hall alone.

A shop assistant stepped forward with a warm smile. “Miss, are you here for a consultation or to pick up medicine?”

“A consultation.” Xiao Yanfei retrieved the small, intricately carved jade sleeping fox paperweight from her pouch and held it up for the assistant to see.

The assistant was momentarily stunned before his smile grew even brighter. “Please, this way, Miss. Young Master is waiting for you inside.”

After calling out to a fellow worker, he led Xiao Yanfei through the front hall, lifting a felt curtain to guide her into the back room.

The windows in the back hall were tightly shut, casting a dim light over the space.

A faint scent of incense mixed with the lingering aroma of medicinal herbs, creating a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.

Gu Feichi sat at the head of the room in a grand armchair, a blue-and-white porcelain teacup in hand as he leisurely sipped his tea.

Today, he wore a black zhiduo embroidered with intricate silver kunpeng patterns. A brocade belt, adorned with jade inlays and cloud motifs, cinched his waist. The dark fabric accentuated his jade-like complexion.

The rising steam from his teacup softened the sharp contours of his face, lending him a gentler air. He seemed far less cold and ruthless than he had been in the scripture library the day before—his features, refined as if painted, now carried a touch of warmth.

Gu Feichi, like yesterday, was not wearing a mask. His face, as flawless as sculpted jade, was undeniably handsome—almost unnaturally perfect.

Rumors claimed that he had been disfigured in battle at the age of thirteen and had worn a mask ever since. But the man before her bore no signs of injury.

So why did Gu Feichi insist on wearing a mask?

The answer was obvious—he was hiding his face.

His cool, detached gaze fell on Xiao Yanfei, but instead of offering a polite greeting, the first words out of her mouth were:

“Young Master Gu, did your injured friend have a fever yesterday?”

Gu Feichi studied the girl before him, wary and guarded, then smiled faintly. “Your medicine was quite effective.”

With that simple response, Xiao Yanfei felt as if half of her worries had been lifted.

She had deliberately left those amoxicillin tablets in the scripture library to prove to Gu Feichi that she wasn’t bluffing—her medicine worked.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a black cat or a white cat, as long as it catches mice, it’s a good cat.”

And she was a very good cat.

The foundation of the physician-patient relationship was trust. With this successful precedent, Xiao Yanfei expected today’s consultation to go much more smoothly.

She wasted no time and got straight to the point. “Where is your father?”

Gu Feichi rose gracefully, dusted off his robe, and said lightly, “Follow me.”

He led Xiao Yanfei up a staircase to the second floor. Before they even reached the room, the sound of intermittent coughing echoed through the hallway.

“Cough… cough… cough…”

Gu Feichi quickened his pace, striding to the end of the corridor before pushing open the door.

A thick, medicinal scent immediately filled the air.

By the bedside, shrouded in pale moon-white bed curtains, stood a tall, slender man in his thirties, dressed in a plain blue zhiduo. He was bowing slightly as he accepted a porcelain teacup from the middle-aged man on the bed.

The patient, clearly unwell, was half-reclining against a large embroidered pillow, wrapped in a brocade quilt. The collar of his white inner robe peeked out from beneath the covers.

His features were refined and elegant, but his complexion was deathly pale. His cheeks had hollowed slightly from illness, leaving him looking frail and withered.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, the middle-aged man, who had been resting with his eyes closed, slowly opened them. His fox-like eyes, so similar to Gu Feichi’s, carried the wisdom of someone who had weathered many storms. Despite his frail state, his expression remained calm and composed.

“A’Chi… cough, cough…” The Duke of Wei barely managed to call Gu Feichi’s name before he was wracked by a violent coughing fit.

He lowered his head, covering his mouth with a handkerchief, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

The blue-robed attendant beside him frowned deeply, immediately stepping forward to gently pat the duke’s back.

Gu Feichi, momentarily forgetting Xiao Yanfei behind him, rushed to the bedside in just a few quick strides.

The coughing fit lasted for quite some time before the duke finally settled. When he pulled the white handkerchief away, a stark red stain of blood-tinged phlegm was revealed—a sight that was both shocking and deeply unsettling.

A faint, metallic stench filled the air.

The attendant took the soiled handkerchief, his expression filled with worry. “Young Master, His Grace is still running a fever. Are you sure he shouldn’t take the medicine prescribed by the imperial physician?”

“I’m fine,” the Duke of Wei rasped. His voice, hoarse and weak from the coughing, carried a forced steadiness. His complexion had turned an alarming shade of purple from the strain.

It was clear to anyone that he was suffering terribly at the hands of his illness.

The Duke of Wei waved a weary hand, signaling his attendant not to support him.

Gu Feichi’s eyes darkened with sorrow as he took a clean handkerchief and gently wiped the bloodstains from the duke’s lips.

The attendant stepped back, his gaze shifting to Xiao Yanfei, who had followed Gu Feichi into the room. His brows furrowed slightly in contemplation.

The young master had returned to the manor in secret, taking the duke out without alerting anyone. He had merely mentioned bringing a physician to examine His Grace—but who would have expected this so-called physician to be such a young girl?

As if confirming his silent doubts, Gu Feichi calmly addressed the duke.

“Father, the physician is here.”

The Duke of Wei turned his gaze toward Xiao Yanfei as she approached. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, mixed with a hint of scrutiny.

Despite his pallid complexion and weakened state, his demeanor remained composed and unshaken. Beneath the weariness of illness, there was still an air of unyielding strength, like a mountain standing firm against the tide.

He had spent nearly thirty years on the battlefield, enduring countless trials of life and death. He had witnessed the fall of too many comrades and had long since come to terms with mortality.

Illness strikes like a collapsing mountain, and his body had only grown weaker with each passing day. There was no cure— even the imperial physicians were powerless.

He had wanted to settle his affairs several times, but his son refused to give up, tirelessly seeking treatments and remedies.

Agreeing to this visit was not out of hope for recovery, but rather to spare his son from regret.

***