I am the physician who was brought back from the battlefield by Shen Yan. He taught me to read and write and made me his deputy, but never once let me set foot in his study. Later, I opened the door and found the walls covered with portraits of another woman. The crown prince teased him for still being unmarried at twenty-seven. Idly playing with his wine cup, he said, “I’ll just find some woman to humor everyone. The one by my side, for example, would do nicely.” That night, I took a poisoned arrow for him. As I lay dying, I asked, “Can you take me into your study just once now?” He picked me up like a madman and rushed toward the study, desperately begging me not to die. But in the very center of the room hung a portrait, almost finished, of someone who looked exactly like me. “She’s your older sister,” he choked out. “I’ve been looking for you for ten years...”
