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

CHAPTER 23

Gu Feichi slowly savored the floral tea Xiao Yanfei had handed him, his expression calm and composed.

He had intended to purchase more medicine from Xiao Yanfei for military use. Yet, before he could bring it up, she had already made the offer herself.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly against the rim of the teacup, his gaze drifting subtly toward Xiao Yanfei as she spoke with effortless confidence.

There were few in the entire capital who could remain this poised in his presence.

How had she developed such a temperament?

Recalling their first encounter in the Sutra Library, a flicker of curiosity sparked within him as he looked at the young woman before him.

He had been raised under his father’s strict guidance—taught to strengthen his body through martial arts, to read and study, to master military strategy and tactics, to understand laws and criminal cases, to assess and judge people, and to lead soldiers into battle…

His father had poured his heart and soul into raising him.

But the young woman before him had been raised in the secluded chambers of her home, never venturing into the vast world beyond, never witnessing the myriad facets of life. So how had she become the person she was today?

Who had taught her medicine?

She was truly intriguing—like a walking enigma, carrying countless secrets within her.

A faint smile flickered in Gu Feichi’s eyes. After taking a few more sips of tea, he set the cup down and asked, “What do you want in exchange?”

“Gold, silver… or something else?”

Xiao Yanfei gazed at him with a bright, knowing smile, her clear, luminous eyes gleaming even more brilliantly than the spring sunlight.

Just as she parted her lips to speak, she noticed Gu Feichi suddenly turn his head toward the door curtain.

Shh!

Gu Feichi pressed his long, slender index finger lightly against his lips, signaling for silence. With a slight movement of his lips, he mouthed, “Someone’s coming.”

Almost immediately, a voice rang out from outside the study. It was Haitang.

“Miss, the eldest young lady has arrived. She’s waiting for you in the main hall.”

“You go and entertain my sister. I’ll tidy up and join her shortly,” Xiao Yanfei instructed calmly.

With practiced ease, she reached into her emergency kit—though to others, it seemed as if she were simply retrieving something from her sleeve. One by one, she extracted twenty amoxicillin tablets and carefully laid them out on a piece of silk paper.

“These will serve as samples,” she said, pushing the small pile toward Gu Feichi. “You can test their effectiveness on more fever-stricken soldiers.”

Her expression grew serious. “But remember—medicine is a double-edged sword. A small number of people may experience adverse reactions, such as rashes, asthma, diarrhea, or vomiting. If that happens, they must stop taking it immediately.”

“In the most severe cases, it could be fatal. Such reactions occur in roughly one in a hundred thousand people.”

“If any of the injured soldiers show signs of distress after taking the medicine, I ask that you send for me at once.”

It was difficult to explain the concept of allergic reactions to people of this era, so Xiao Yanfei opted for a simpler explanation—all medicine carries some degree of poison. After all, traditional Chinese medicine often relied on toxic substances as remedies.

“I’ve noted it,” Gu Feichi responded succinctly.

There was no such thing as a cure-all in this world. Medicine could heal, but it could also harm.

On the battlefield, soldiers fought with nothing but their flesh and blood, risking their lives in combat. Those who developed relentless fevers from infected wounds were almost certainly doomed.

But this medicine—it could offer them a sliver of hope where there had been none.

Even if one in a hundred thousand died from it, or even if one in ten did, that still meant nine could survive.

Gu Feichi’s expression grew solemn, his eyes sharp and unwavering, shining like stars with a resolute brilliance.

Xiao Yanfei wrapped the tablets in silk paper and slid them toward him. With a slight smile, she said, “I have a guest to attend to, so I won’t be seeing you off. Please make yourself at home, Your Highness.”

She rose to her feet, smoothing out her dress before swiftly parting the curtain and stepping out.

Passing through two layers of door curtains, she entered the main hall, where Xiao Luanfei stood at the center, clad in a striking crimson gown. Tall and radiant, she exuded an air of elegance and confidence, her gaze fixed on the Lotus Reclining Guanyin painting before her.

Haitang and Dingxiang stood attentively by her side.

Hearing movement, Xiao Luanfei turned, her lips curving into a dazzling smile—like a magnificent peony in full bloom.

“Second Sister, this Guanyin painting is truly exquisite—graceful, benevolent, and dignified in every stroke. I find it utterly captivating.”

“I heard from Dingxiang just now that Concubine Cui painted this herself in the twelfth month to pray for your well-being?”

Xiao Yanfei glanced at the painting before nodding lightly. “Yes, she painted it.”

Back in the twelfth month, the original Xiao Yanfei had suffered a bout of cold, enduring days of high fever and relentless coughing. Yet, Concubine Cui had never once come to visit her. Instead, only after her condition had mostly improved did she send over this painting, claiming it was a heartfelt prayer for her recovery. She spoke earnestly, saying she had meticulously painted the Lotus Reclining Guanyin to bless Xiao Yanfei and that, thankfully, Guanyin’s protection had helped her recover.

At the time, the original Xiao Yanfei had been deeply moved and hung the painting in the main hall.

“Concubine Cui truly cares for you, Second Sister,” Xiao Luanfei remarked with a sigh, her bright eyes filled with emotion.

Xiao Yanfei simply smiled, neither agreeing nor refuting the statement.

“Sister, did you come looking for me for something?” she asked casually, smoothly shifting the conversation.

Still smiling, Xiao Luanfei stepped forward and took Xiao Yanfei’s arm. “Mother asked you to join us for dinner in the main courtyard. Since I was passing by, I thought I’d come fetch you.”

Xiao Yanfei glanced at the water clock—just about time for her customary evening visit to Madam Yin.

She followed Xiao Luanfei out of the courtyard and as she stepped past the courtyard gates, she couldn’t help but glance back toward the small study, wondering to herself, Gu Feichi should have left by now, right?

But the thought barely lingered before Xiao Luanfei spoke again, her tone lively and excited. “The Qianfang Banquet is coming up in a few days. The imperial palace should be sending out invitations soon. Second Sister, why don’t you come with me?”

“Qianfang Banquet?” Xiao Yanfei frowned slightly, trying to recall where she had heard of it before.

The sun had dipped past the horizon, leaving streaks of brilliant sunset clouds across the sky. The fading light cast a warm glow over them, illuminating their skin with a soft, jade-like radiance.

Xiao Luanfei’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Every spring, Her Majesty hosts the Qianfang Banquet, inviting noble young ladies of age to Qinghui Garden, the imperial retreat in the western outskirts, to enjoy the flowers and festivities.”

“Anyone fortunate enough to earn the Empress’s praise at the banquet will benefit greatly from it.”

Though she spoke with reserved elegance, the meaning was clear—if a young lady won the Empress’s favor, it could only mean one thing: a promising marriage.

The Empress’s Qianfang Banquet?

Something in Xiao Yanfei’s mind clicked.

That’s right—earlier today, Liu Chaoyun had mentioned at Jiangyun Pavilion that she planned to showcase her musical talents at the banquet.

So… this was essentially an ancient matchmaking event?

Xiao Luanfei’s smile remained bright as she continued, “Tomorrow, Golden Jade Studio will be delivering the jewelry Mother had custom-made for us. Let’s go try them on together.”

“I heard that the peonies at Qinghui Palace are absolutely breathtaking, so Mother specifically commissioned a pair of gold peony hairpins for us. I saw the design sketches from Golden Jade Studio—they’re exquisite…”

She suddenly stopped mid-sentence, her steps halting as she grabbed Xiao Yanfei’s arm.

“Wait—Second Sister, isn’t that Concubine Cui?”

She pointed toward the wisteria-covered walkway ahead. Amidst the cascading violet blossoms stood a slender, graceful figure.

Concubine Cui was draped in a moon-white cloak, her thick black hair loosely gathered into a soft bun, with a few delicate strands framing her face. As the wind blew, her hood billowed slightly, making her appear even more frail—so fragile it seemed as if a single gust could carry her away.

She stood beneath the wisteria-covered walkway, gazing in their direction, her eyes shimmering like autumn waters.

Xiao Yanfei: “……”

Xiao Luanfei spoke gently. “Second Sister, has it been a long time since you last visited Concubine Cui?”

Xiao Yanfei remained silent, which Xiao Luanfei took as tacit agreement.

With a quiet sigh, Xiao Luanfei continued, “Concubine Cui has seemed troubled lately. I saw her at Grandmother’s this morning, and she looked unwell, as if she might be ill…”

“Concubine Cui has always cared for you. When you were sick, she even painted the Guanyin image herself, praying for your recovery, eating only vegetarian meals, and chanting sutras—all out of motherly love. There’s no lasting resentment between a mother and daughter. If there’s any misunderstanding between you two, you should clear it up before it deepens further.”

As they spoke, Concubine Cui pulled her cloak tighter around herself, hesitating as she took two small steps toward them before stopping again. Her expression betrayed a deep sense of unease.

“Second Sister,” Xiao Luanfei released Xiao Yanfei’s arm and gently nudged her toward the flower-covered walkway. “I’ll go ahead. We’ll be waiting for you at dinner.”

When she reached the entrance of the main courtyard, Xiao Luanfei glanced back just in time to see Concubine Cui approaching gracefully from beneath the wisteria trellis.

With a voice as soft and lingering as spring water, she called out tenderly, “My Yan’er, are you still upset with me?”

The gentle words, wrapped in warmth and affection, carried an almost bewitching quality, stirring the heart.

Xiao Luanfei swiftly looked away, continuing forward. Her skirts fluttered in the evening breeze, light as butterfly wings.

In the main courtyard, Xiao Luanfei was practically the mistress of the house. She never needed a servant to announce her arrival and made her way unimpeded to the western warm pavilion.

“Luan’er.” Sitting on the Luohan bed, Madam Yin’s face lit up with a smile upon seeing her daughter. She glanced behind her expectantly. “Where is your second sister?”

Xiao Luanfei walked over lightly and nestled close to Madam Yin, resting her cheek against her mother’s shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

“We ran into Concubine Cui on the way,” she said, absently twisting a silk handkerchief between her fingers, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Second Sister was worried that Concubine Cui wasn’t dressed warmly enough, so she stopped to speak with her.”

“Second Sister has always been devoted to Concubine Cui, putting her first in everything. They had a bit of a disagreement before over Sun momo, but from the looks of it today, their bond has grown even closer.”

Zhao momo stood nearby, serving tea for the mother and daughter. Hearing this, she frowned deeply, feeling a wave of indignation on her mistress’s behalf. The Second Miss truly doesn’t know what’s good for her. The Madam had gone so far as to fall out with the Marquis over her, and even now, they had yet to reconcile. And yet, the Second Miss turned around and got all cozy with Concubine Cui again!

What a waste of the Madam’s kindness!

Xiao Luanfei’s delicate brows furrowed slightly as she hesitated before continuing, “Mother, I heard that Concubine Cui arranged a marriage for Second Sister… Because of this, you and Father are still at odds. It pains me to see you both like this, but…”

She bit her lip, hesitating, then said softly, “But what if Second Sister is willing? Mother, why put yourself through this…”

Her voice trailed off into a heartfelt sigh, full of tender concern as she gently urged Madam Yin to let go.

***