[The Peony Cake]
For weeks, Li Furong had used "fetching medicine" as a transparent excuse to see Sang Qi. As her 18th birthday approached, she gathered her courage to invite him to her manor.
"The pharmacy is too busy," Sang Qi replied, his head down.
Stung but persistent, Furong smiled. "Then at least give me a gift. Anything will do."
Sang Qi didn't respond, but that night, he didn't sleep. Instead, he went to the kitchen and pestered Luo Ye into teaching him how to make pastries. For three days, the cold physician struggled with flour and red dates until he crafted a box of cakes shaped like hibiscus flowers (Furong).
The day before her birthday, he handed her the box. "Don't say I never gave you anything."
Furong was moved to tears. In a world of jade and gold, this imperfect, hand-made gift was the only thing that felt real. She took a bite, then looked at him with shimmering eyes.
"Taste it," she whispered.
As Sang Qi reached for another cake, she caught his wrist. "Not that one."
She leaned in and fed him the half-eaten cake directly from her lips—a kiss that tasted of sweet beans and sudden, scorching fire. Sang Qi froze, his heart racing so fast he nearly dropped his tools.
"You... you woman..." he stammered, his face burning.
"Just a return gift," she whispered playfully before vanishing into the sunlight.
[Shadows of the Past]
The next day, Ling Dang came to help at the pharmacy. "Sang-Dage, what kind of girl does Luo-Dage like?" she asked tentatively.
Sang Qi's movements stiffened. The question pried open a box of memories he had kept shut since Gu Xingyu left.
"We all once loved the same woman," Sang Qi said softly. "She was kind, gentle, and strong. She was our faith. Luo Ye and I even fought over her many times."
Ling Dang's eyes widened. "The same person? Where is she now?"
Sang Qi shook his head, his gaze darkening. He didn't mention that his "love" was more like reverence, while Luo Ye's was a wild, uncontrollable passion.
[The Unheard Truth]
Outside the tent, Li Furong stood under a laurel tree, holding a basket. She had come to confess her feelings, but the words she overheard froze her heart.
"We all once loved the same woman..."
"Luo Ye and I fought over her..."
She didn't stay to hear the rest—the part where Sang Qi realized his feelings were just admiration. She only heard that his heart belonged to a "faith" from his past. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched her lips. No wonder you remain unmoved, no matter how hard I try.
She turned and left, her footsteps silent, leaving only the scent of her perfume lingering in the autumn air.
Inside, Sang Qi looked at the falling leaves and whispered to the empty air, "Happy Birthday." He had no idea that the girl he was thinking of had just walked away with a broken heart.