Du Fan led Feng Yan through the front gate of his home, his steps slow and deliberate. The silence between them was thick with anticipation and worry. As they approached the front door, Feng Yan's eyes swept over the surroundings—a large, well-maintained house that exuded both wealth and tradition. Yet there was an air of gloom, a stillness that felt suffocating.
When they entered, Mrs. Du was sitting in the living room, her posture stiff but dignified. The moment her eyes landed on Du Fan, accompanied by a girl she had never seen before, her expression flickered with surprise. This was the first time her son had ever brought anyone home. Du Fan, the reserved, aloof boy who had always kept to himself, never even spoke of friends, let alone introduced one at their house. And now, here was a girl—a classmate—standing beside him.
Du Fan cleared his throat awkwardly, his face unreadable as he introduced them. "Mom, this is Feng Yan, my classmate. She came over to work on some homework."
Mrs. Du blinked, momentarily taken aback. Her gaze shifted to Feng Yan, her surprise evident, though she quickly masked it with a polite smile. Feng Yan, ever composed, greeted her with a graceful bow and addressed her respectfully, "Mrs. Du."
The formality in Feng Yan's voice seemed to strike a chord with Mrs. Du. The young girl standing before her was not only beautiful, but also well-mannered, something that softened Mrs. Du's initial wariness. She smiled, this time more genuinely. "Welcome, Feng Yan. Please make yourself at home."
Mrs. Du excused herself to the kitchen, her voice trailing off as she called for the servants to prepare some snacks. She left Feng Yan and Du Fan alone, still curious but already pleased with the impression Feng Yan had made.
Once Mrs. Du was out of sight, Du Fan motioned for Feng Yan to follow him deeper into the house. They moved through the spacious halls until they reached a room at the far end. Inside, Du Fan's father lay on a large bed, his face pale, eyes closed as though he were sleeping. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of his labored breathing. The sight of him, so weak and frail, sent a wave of sadness through Feng Yan, but her expression remained calm.
Without a word, Feng Yan approached the bed and knelt beside him. She took his wrist gently and began to check his pulse, her face growing more focused by the second. Du Fan stood behind her, watching anxiously. His heart pounded as each passing moment felt heavier than the last.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before Feng Yan finally released his father's wrist and stood up, her brow furrowed. Her face was unreadable, but the crease in her forehead told Du Fan enough. His heart sank, the sliver of hope he had clung to now slipping through his fingers.
"His condition is critical," Feng Yan said quietly, turning to face Du Fan. His face paled at her words, and he swallowed hard.
"But," she continued, her tone steady, "he can be cured. The poison has not spread beyond control, but we must act fast. I need specific herbs, and they must be gathered within the week. Without them, his condition will worsen rapidly."
Du Fan's breath caught in his throat, relief washing over him despite the severity of her words. "You can save him?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Feng Yan nodded, pulling a small notebook from her bag and writing down a list of herbs with quick, precise strokes. "These are what I need," she said, handing him the paper. "Gather them as quickly as possible. Your family has resources for getting them easily. I'll do what I can to slow the poison's spread in the meantime."
Du Fan looked at the list, his expression growing more serious by the second. His fingers tightened around the paper as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. "I'll get them," he promised, his voice firm.
Feng Yan wasted no time. She moved to Du Fan's father and carefully applied acupuncture needles to specific points on his body. Each needle was placed with precision, her movements swift but gentle. Du Fan watched, amazed at her skill, though he didn't fully understand what she was doing. After a few minutes, she stood back, her eyes scanning over her work one last time before turning to Du Fan.
"This will stop the poison from spreading further for now," she explained. "But it's temporary. Follow these instructions carefully." She handed him another note, detailing what needed to be done to care for his father until the herbs could be gathered.
With the immediate task finished, they both made their way back to the main hall where Mrs. Du was waiting. She had returned from the kitchen with a tray of snacks, setting it on the table. She smiled warmly at Feng Yan, "Please, help yourselves," Mrs. Du said, gesturing to the snacks. Her voice was gentle, but there was an unmistakable curiosity in her eyes.
Feng Yan, maintaining her poised demeanor, thanked Mrs. Du and sat down. Du Fan followed suit, though his mind was still racing. He glanced at his mother, wondering how she would react if she knew the truth about his father's condition. But for now, he kept that secret locked away, knowing that it was best to handle the situation quietly.
As they ate in silence, Mrs. Du occasionally stole glances at Feng Yan, her mind still trying to process this sudden, unexpected visit. She had been taken by surprise at first, but now, seeing Feng Yan's composure and manners, she was more at ease. Her son had always been distant, never bringing friends home, much less a girl. The fact that he had brought Feng Yan, and that she carried herself with such grace, was more than enough to please Mrs. Du.
Feng Yan, on the other hand, ate quietly, her mind already focused on the next steps she needed to take. The herbs had to be found quickly, and there was no room for error. As she finished her snack, she glanced at Du Fan, their eyes meeting briefly. The silent understanding between them was clear: there was no time to waste.
After a few polite exchanges, Feng Yan stood and prepared to leave, thanking Mrs. Du for her hospitality. Du Fan followed her out, his mind still reeling from the day's events.
As they stepped out of the house, Du Fan felt a strange mixture of anxiety and hope swirling inside him. For the first time in a long while, there was a path forward—a chance to save his father. And for that, he was grateful to Feng Yan, more than words could express.
"Thank you," he said quietly as they walked toward the gate.
Feng Yan glanced at him, her face calm but with a hint of softness in her eyes. "Just get the herbs," she replied. "Then we can talk about gratitude."