After leaving Madam Zhao's room, Xue Bo quickly collected himself, slipping back into his usual smooth and obsequious demeanor. He processed her resignation paperwork efficiently, his gentle smile and brisk movements making it seem like a promotion, not the dismissal of an insider. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought it was a celebratory moment rather than the expulsion of a planted staff member. No trace of anger or resentment was visible on his face.

But as soon as he was alone, his facade fell away.

His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers brushing the small vial inside. The faint rattle of pills against glass echoed in his ears, and with it, his resolve grew firmer.

This assignment had always been about more than just service.

When Xue Bo was first sent to the villa, he’d expected hard labor—tending to a half-mad young master. But shortly after his arrival, a relative of the Qin family patriarch had contacted him with an offer: to discreetly add medication to Qin Li's meals in exchange for a generous sum.

At first, Xue Bo hesitated, worried about the legal consequences. But the reassurances came—harmless stimulants, tiny doses that would go undetected. And the promises: relocation abroad and enough wealth to last generations.

The stakes were clear. The Qin family's internal power struggles had long been common knowledge.

After much internal conflict, Xue Bo had accepted. He arranged for his wife to take the position of cook at the villa, giving him daily access to Qin Li’s meals. Though the young master barely ate, the cumulative effects of the medication were taking their toll.

Now, with Qin Li suddenly demanding a new kitchen staff, Xue Bo’s anger shifted into dread. Had Qin Li noticed something?

He couldn’t afford for an investigation to happen. Even with the escape plan in place, he had to be careful.

"Steward Xue," a gentle voice interrupted his thoughts. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Startled, Xue Bo looked up to see the young doctor standing ahead. His handsome face was haloed by sunlight, his peach-blossom eyes warm behind gold-rimmed glasses. His natural smile seemed to invite trust, and the upturned curve of his lips made it feel as though he were already smiling before speaking.

Xue Bo’s tense mood softened for a moment but then quickly returned to wariness.

"Just handling some matters for the master," he said stiffly.

Xu Xiliu, who had just left the gaming room, had spotted the steward walking hurriedly with a serious expression. Normally, he wouldn’t have interfered, but for some reason, he found himself calling out.

Professional habit, he decided. Months of managing his difficult patient had turned him into a bit of a nag.

"No rush," Xu Xiliu smiled. "Carry on."

Internally, Xue Bo seethed. Meddlesome fool!

Then an idea struck him.

If the doctor liked to interfere, then let him bear the consequences.

Dinner turned out to be an unexpected delight.

The new kitchen staff—clearly prearranged, despite Qin Li's earlier claim that he was deferring to Xu Xiliu’s recommendation—produced exquisite dishes. The flavors were worlds apart from the mediocrity of lunch.

Xu Xiliu ate with gusto, finally understanding Qin Li’s earlier outburst. Who wouldn’t get angry at subpar meals when such culinary talent was at their disposal?

Beside him, Qin Li picked at his food with his usual disinterest, though he ate a bit more than usual. The meal felt oddly incomplete without the doctor’s usual chatter.

Noticing his silent companion, Xu Xiliu, feeling a pang of guilt, invited, "Care for a walk, Mr. Qin? It’s good for digestion."

Qin Li’s glare could freeze lava. "Do I look like I can walk?"

Ah. The wheelchair.

Xu Xiliu’s smile faltered.

But then, to everyone’s surprise, Qin Li, after casting a cryptic glance toward the villa’s depths, unexpectedly said: "...Push me."

And so began the most awkward stroll in history.

Moonlight bathed the estate as Xu Xiliu navigated the wheelchair, mentally scolding himself. Between Qin Li's brooding silence and sharp comments, the atmosphere felt more like a funeral than a leisurely walk.

Only professional ethics (and that generous salary) kept Xu Xiliu from snapping back.

Left hook. Right hook. Uppercut—

Suddenly, Qin Li turned.

Xu Xiliu barely managed to school his expression in time. "Chilly? Should we head back?"

Moonlight caught in the doctor’s eyes—amber flecks igniting like embers. For a heartbeat, Qin Li saw fireworks.

"...Return."

The word felt strangely final.

As they wheeled back, Xu Xiliu’s smile twisted into a silent scream.

Heart attack avoided! One second more, and Qin Li would have seen clenched fists instead of gentle concern.

Close call.