There weren't as many Battle Array Maps as there were maps, and it only took ten scrolls to go through them all.
Miss Jun looked at them more carefully than she did the maps, of course not expecting to understand and learn them right now. Like with the maps, she would go through them many times over, until she could remember each one clearly.
First remember, then learn—this was the principle her master had taught her when he tossed her a pile of medical texts. It had honed her impressive memory and had become her habit.
It wasn't that she wanted to remember and learn the Battle Array Maps right now, but rather that the figures drawn on these maps were very interesting.
The Battle Array Maps were basically composed of dots and lines, but a few military generals were also depicted within.
She didn't pay much attention when looking at the first few scrolls, but as she continued, Miss Jun realized that these few generals' faces never changed.
They were vividly alive, with rich expressions throughout the ten Battle Array Maps, as if they were real people.
They must be real people, and undoubtedly, people her master was familiar with.
These individuals varied in age; some were in their thirties, and others were youthful teenagers—with every Array Map displaying different expressions, whether it be smiling, serene, or valiant, bringing them to life.
Were these people part of her master's past?
Under the bright lamp, Miss Jun once again studied these faces seriously, flipping through page by page, and after the ten Battle Array Maps, the content that should have appeared, did.
The kind of content that should be written by someone known as a divine doctor.
This was a medical case.
Miss Jun breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, picking up her tea for a sip, and continued reading the medical case. Unlike the dazzling images and text before, the handwriting here was sloppy, with many mistakes, appearing quite peculiar. Not to mention, the descriptions were chaotic, seemingly written on a whim wherever the thoughts took him.
Yet Miss Jun's face broke into a smile as she read—this was really her master.
Unfortunately, this medical case didn't mention any specific places or times, yielding no information about her master's past.
She flipped through one page after another, encountering several pages of medical cases, though they couldn't quite be called that. They were more like self-dialogues of her master, sloppy and disjointed. One moment he'd be talking about how to treat a certain disease, and the next, he'd jump to another, as if muttering to himself.
Muttering to himself, indeed.
In those times when she played chess or other games by herself, wasn't it the same for her master? Besides teasing and jesting with her, he had no one else to play with.
Miss Jun seemed to envision him sitting with his legs crossed at the desk, tossing pickled beans into his mouth, furiously writing on paper while muttering under his breath, shaking his head at times, and at others, slapping the table in laughter.
He was actually just talking to himself, playing by himself.
Miss Jun paused for a moment, then turned another page, and her gaze sharpened as she sat up straight.
This was a page more scrambled than random doodles, the same sentence scrawled all over it.
Immortal Ziying's Plant, not enough, not enough, not enough.
This sentence filled the entire page.
So at that time, not only did her master say it, but he also wrote it down. Back then, listening to it didn't feel like much, but now, looking at the sloppy scrawls on this page, she could sense the irritation, anxiety, and even despair her master felt at the time.
Despair, indeed.
Miss Jun's hand rested on this page.
Back then, she didn't understand what despair meant until the moment of her death when despair meant watching powerlessly as events unfolded.
Powerlessly watching her enemies live while she could do nothing.
Then what was it that left her master feeling so powerless and in despair?
Could a man like him truly be powerless?
Could Immortal Ziying's Plant relieve his despair? Was one Immortal Ziying's Plant not enough? Actually, all things considered, she had already come across two.
Only a pity, one was taken by Zhu Zan, and wasted on a flower that was nothing more than a pretty decoration.
At this thought, she couldn't help but clench her teeth.
That Zhu Zan.
A rustling sound came from outside the window, like silkworms feeding.
Miss Jun put down her notes and walked to the window. The fine rain sprinkled against her face with the wind, bringing a refreshing coolness.
She wondered how he was doing now. His injuries would definitely be fine; she had confidence in that, but did he have the confidence to deal with the trouble Zhu Zan was embroiled in?
Just like the wasted Immortal Ziying's Plant, he personally killed the man involved in Lord Huang's incident—a waste indeed.
It was hard to understand whether he was impulsively naive or cowardly and cunning.
As for the other Immortal Ziying's Plant.
Miss Jun's anxious brows softened like the gentle drizzle on this summer night.
Still buried under the tree in Prince Huai's mansion.
Prince Huai's mansion.
I wonder if Jiurong has fallen asleep, if he's still sad or angry. I'm somewhat relieved when it comes to Jiurong, after all, Mr. Gu is there, able to keep him company.
A thought flashed by, and Miss Jun smiled bitterly. It seems that without realizing it, she had come to regard Mr. Gu as a trustworthy person.
But what about her sister?
Does her sister know she's left the capital? Would she be sad, happy, or feel nothing at all? Or has she already forgotten her.
After all, they only met once, spent just a few days together, and she was using another face. To Princess Jiuli, she was just a doctor, a doctor with the duty to treat and save people.
Miss Jun touched her face, wiping away a thin layer of rainwater.
Compared to Jiurong, Princess Jiuli was the one with no one by her side, alone.
Meanwhile, the night sky over the capital was clear, without rain or wind, and the stuffiness of early summer was already beginning to show.
The lights inside the Lu Residence were bright, even though the night was deep, the people were not yet at rest.
Several maids set fresh ice blocks in the four corners of the room, replacing the ones that hadn't melted but were no longer effective to Lu Yunqi's liking.
The room was as cool as autumn.
The maids all left, and Princess Jiuli, having removed her makeup and changed into casual clothes, wasn't alone with only a lamp for company.
"Jiurong's handwriting has indeed much improved," she said with a smile under the lamp, a soft glow in her eyes as she looked at the scroll in her hand, then lifted her head to nod at Lu Yunqi who sat opposite her, "The tutor you've hired is really quite good."
Lu Yunqi's expression was wooden.
"It wasn't me who hired him," he said, "He came on his own."
"But even if he wanted to come, it wouldn't necessarily mean he could," Princess Jiuli said with a smile.
After all, it wasn't as if just anyone could enter Prince Huai's mansion.
"But if he continues to use this method to pass messages to you, that would really be too foolish," Lu Yunqi said, looking at the scroll in Princess Jiuli's hand, "Although I haven't been educated, it doesn't mean I can't read, or can't recognize what a hidden-head poem is."
Princess Jiuli laughed and placed the scroll back on the table.
"He didn't mean to hide it from you," she said, "Otherwise, he wouldn't have written it."
Lu Yunqi didn't speak anymore, and neither did Princess Jiuli, who picked up a needle and thread and started to embroider under the lamp. Her brows were calm, and her lips still wore a smile.
If she hadn't been taught to be dignified and proper from a young age, if she hummed a little tune right now, the atmosphere in the room would be even warmer.
"Why are you so happy to know that she has safely returned to Yangcheng?" Lu Yunqi suddenly asked.
Princess Jiuli didn't stop her stitching.
"Because seeing someone living comfortably and freely is always a joyous thing," she said with a smile.
Is living well and freely really a joyous thing?
Lu Yunqi remained impassive.
And he never cared whether others were happy or not.
"What I mean is, what difference does it make whether it's Yangcheng or the capital?" he said.
Princess Jiuli stopped her needlework and looked up at him, her expression somewhat helpless.
"Aren't you going to let go?" she asked.
"Why should I let go?" Lu Yunqi looked back at her and said.
The bright lamp in the room didn't illuminate his face; instead, it cast his face into shadows.
No longer was there that beautifully pale, enigmatic face, just a wooden expression and voice that made him appear earnest and simple.
"What I have achieved today, everything I have today, is all for her."
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Thank you to the southern ice, "Last Gun?", "Wei Shijiang San Shao" and others for their rewards and He's Bi.
Thank you, everyone.