Be good and take your medicine.

Mu Qingcheng had simply made up an excuse. She just didn’t want to stay there any longer, watching those noisy, tedious students.

Today was competition day at the academy, so the riding arena was closed to outsiders. By now, lunchtime had passed, and the dining hall was deserted. Mu Qingcheng had barely eaten at noon and had downed a glass of milk on an empty stomach. No sooner had she sat down than a dull ache began to gnaw at her stomach.

In her early years, she’d often worked alone, constantly shuttling between countries, always busy. In order to keep up the reputation of “No Trace,” the organization her mother had left behind, she’d accumulated more than a few ailments. But Mu Qingcheng was never one to coddle herself; she was steadfast and bold, yet free-spirited. If she felt unwell, she took medicine; if she was tired, she slept. Her health was never robust, but she’d never truly taken the time to recuperate.

She had neither the time nor, truthfully, any reason to cherish herself. Her life existed solely to clear her mother’s name and seek vengeance.

A wry smile flickered across her lips. “Ah—here I go again, lost in thought.”

Sitting alone by the window, she watched the already-begun competition. The harsh sunlight masked the sorrow in her eyes.

Then, a soft thud sounded.

A glass of warm water and a small paper cup containing a few pills appeared before her.

Long, slender fingers calmly retreated to a pocket at her side under Mu Qingcheng’s gaze. Though a flicker of surprise crossed her face, her eyes continued to trace up the black sleeve.

“Si Shao? What are you doing here?”

The question escaped her in a startled breath.

Standing before her was none other than Si Qingchen, who had only moments ago insisted he had urgent business to attend to. How could he have reappeared in just a matter of minutes?

“Take your medicine first.”

The man across from her seemed unsurprised by her reaction. Still cool and expressionless, Si Qingchen sat down across from her as if nothing were amiss.

“Medicine? What medicine?” Mu Qingcheng glanced at the cup, and a moment later, her eyes widened slightly.

She recognized the pills in the paper cup—they were her usual stomach medicine.

But how did Si Qingchen know?

At that moment, Si Qingchen extended a hand, picked up the cup, and gestured with his eyes.

“Hold out your hand.”

Without thinking, Mu Qingcheng obediently extended her palm, dazedly watching as he poured the pills into her hand. She heard his voice, as if in explanation:

“You started feeling unwell after the milk, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied softly.

“Thought so. You have a weak stomach.”

“So, when you said you had urgent business... you went to buy medicine?”

“Not personally. Why, are you worried about the medicine?”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant at all.” Mu Qingcheng shook her head quickly. As if to prove her trust, she popped the pills into her mouth without hesitation.

Si Qingchen lifted the glass of water and handed it to her. When she reached to take it, he held it back.

Behind her glasses, Mu Qingcheng’s eyes blinked, a little flustered, uncertain how to respond.

Her heart pounded wildly as she watched him bring the glass directly to her lips, his voice low and coaxing:

“Be good. Open your mouth.”

Mu Qingcheng, obedient as ever, bowed her head and parted her lips.

She drank it all in a single gulp.

***

At the rear entrance of the dining hall, Si Nan and Si Bei stood together.

Si Bei, looking rather pleased with himself, raised an eyebrow and, for once, smiled. He nudged his usually dour younger brother beside him and reminded him, “Well? Didn’t I say the boss could handle it? A thousand bucks—don’t play dumb. Remember to transfer it later.”

Si Nan was silent.