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Song Feiwan's eyelids twitched, and she thought she must have misheard. However, looking at Rong Jiayi's expression, it was clear he was not joking. His deep-set eyes reflected her face, and his calm tone carried a sense of certainty.
"If you don't want to return to the capital, no one else will know you are here. If you do wish to go back, I will help you."
The latter part was, of course, a lie. Not letting any opportunity slip away was ingrained in the nature of the Rong family. Even Xiao Yu, who bore half of the Rong blood, was like this; it went without saying that Rong Jiayi would be even more so. Beneath his seemingly gentle gaze lay a deep-seated obsession with Song Feiwan. For this reason, he did not hesitate to lie in order to lower her guard.
Furrowing her brows, Song Feiwan asked, "Why?"
Seeing that he had achieved part of his goal, Rong Jiayi smiled slightly. Yet he did not reveal his true thoughts; instead, he said, "I have my own selfish motives. Besides, you saved me; you owe me a debt of gratitude, don’t you?"
Even after he left, Song Feiwan found it hard to believe that such a significant crisis—exposing her identity—had been resolved so easily.
As expected, Rong Jiayi kept his word. Not only did he refrain from spreading news about her situation, but he also used his connections to thoroughly investigate Chen Azhao.
Before long, detailed information about Chen Azhao was compiled and secretly delivered into her hands.
Rong Jiayi glanced subtly at the scar on her face and explained with an unchanging expression, "If you want to live under her identity, you must fully embrace it. With this information, it will be much easier."
The stack of papers in Song Feiwan's hands suddenly felt heavy.
"Thank you," she said earnestly.
Rong Jiayi smiled; his already handsome face seemed to radiate with brilliance, captivating anyone who looked at him. He had a stern demeanor and was the chief minister of justice in charge of the courts—rarely did he smile.
In hindsight, Song Feiwan realized that during this time, she had often seen him smile at her.
With the information she held, Rong Jiayi frequently visited the medical clinic in Wujin City to see Song Feiwan. Sometimes he would bring her items suitable for a young lady, and other times he would present delicious northern delicacies for her to taste.
The scenery of Jiangnan was indeed beautiful, but the sweet dishes, while enjoyable for a meal or two, became quite tiresome for Song Feiwan over time. The food that Rong Jiayi brought was fragrant and delectable, perfectly appealing to her taste buds.
When things were slow, he would also bring along a fine bottle of wine, and the two would share a few cups while chatting. He was always mindful; as long as Song Feiwan didn’t mention Xiao Yu, he would never bring him up.
In all honesty, Song Feiwan found their interactions quite pleasant. Coming from a prestigious family, Rong Jiayi was well-educated and cultured, making it easy for him to connect with others. However, given his previous high status, he had never needed to put much effort into forming relationships.
Moreover, each time he visited, he did so discreetly, carefully considering Song Feiwan's reputation. Aside from He Miao, the apprentice she had taken in, no one in the neighborhood knew about her close ties with an official from the capital.
He Miao had also fled from disaster. Unlike Chen Azao, her family was still alive. To support her unambitious younger brother, her family had planned to sell her into a brothel, which prompted her escape.
In such harsh times, many common folk struggled to survive. Song Feiwan was merely a low-profile physician living under an assumed name; she couldn’t possibly help everyone in need.
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