Wan Rong handed him the medical fee and sent the person away.
After returning, she commanded the kitchen to brew the medicine.
Ye Qian reminded him a few times to take care of his injury and not to neglect his studies, and then went off to work on her embroidery.
The elderly lady of the Liu Mansion, her mother-in-law, was to celebrate her grand birthday in a month. Ye Qian’s embroidery skills were exceptional; she had spent half a month embroidering a silk peony piece to earn the old lady’s praise.
Liu Qingxi was the only one remaining, standing in the hall of the Xinhua Courtyard.
Her small figure donned a silver-red silk skirt, embroidered with golden branch peach blossoms, standing alone, which appeared a bit lonely from afar.
Her slender little hand caressed her small face.
She didn’t control the strength well, pressing down with slight pain, letting out a "hiss" as a wave of ache struck her, causing her to softly call out.
In Liu Qingxi’s bright eyes, the hatred was even more intense; she knew that the two from yesterday were Ye Zhi and Tan Huanhuan, even though their faces were covered, she could recognize their vague silhouettes.
The ones having enmity with her, boasting such figures, could only be these two.
It wasn’t for anything else, really. Ye Zhi was pretty, graceful, and stood charmingly, truly adorable. Liu Qingxi begrudgingly admitted that the Chief of Staff’s little daughter looked prettier than herself.
A mix of jealousy and admiration gripped her; earlier, she had secretly stolen glances.
Daring to break into the Liu Mansion at night and injure her, she certainly would not show mercy.
The little girl in the silver-red silk skirt, embroidered with golden branch peach blossoms, her eyes burst with fierce hatred.
The leave from the Imperial College was granted for five days; during the days recovering at the mansion, Liu Qingxi missed the news of Shen Chen becoming the State Preceptor’s closed-door disciple.
In the morning, when classes hadn’t started, groups of students gathered discussing the disciples chosen by the State Preceptor.
Lingxiang Courtyard, Yulan Hall, Class 101.
"Wow, is this the character written by the State Preceptor? It’s my first time seeing it."
The one speaking was Ye Zhi, holding a bundle of paper scrolls.
On them was the notification of Shen Chen becoming the State Preceptor’s disciple.
This is what is known as a sense of ceremony.
The Little Traitor attended Qi Yun Courtyard classes, meeting the State Preceptor daily, a mere word was enough for notice, yet they insisted on a formal document.
Upon receiving it in Class 101, Ye Zhi, Huanhuan, along with Xiao Li Qian, Changzhou, and others immediately rushed to watch.
And of course, offering rounds of praise.
Little Li Qian’s face was full of tears: "Brother Xiao Chen, you are truly formidable! My father, the emperor, greatly enjoys conversing with the State Preceptor about life, I didn’t expect you would directly become the Preceptor’s disciple."
"Congratulations, Brother Shen," said Changzhou in a literate tone, pausing before continuing: "Life has four joys: finding sweet rain in long drought, meeting an old friend in a foreign land; the wedding night under candlelight, succeeding in the imperial examinations, to become the State Preceptor’s closed-door disciple surely resembles gold list success."
Indeed, a bookworm.
Why associate it with examination success?
Huanhuan pushed him aside, taking over: "Hehe, will Brother Xiao Chen become the new State Preceptor someday? When prospering, remember not to forget us."
Ye Zhi laughed awkwardly: "How could he forget? We study together daily, all in the Imperial College, even if we advance, we can still be in the same class. Xiao Chen is not that kind of person."
She reached out, patting the Little Traitor’s shoulder, showing her firm belief in him.
The slapped Little Traitor lowered his head without uttering a word.
The surrounding little companions watched her incredulously, as if slightly unwilling to believe.
Ye Zhi, catching everyone’s gaze, first responded by reaching out, touching her own face: "What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?"