When the drug store door was pushed open, Lin Wanyue was wiping the counter with her head down. The wooden door clanged against the wall, and the rag fell into the bucket at his feet.
She didn't move.
The footsteps were steady and unhurried, stepping on the blue brick floor with a deliberate calmness. There was a smell of pine incense mixed with the rust of the scabbard in the air. It was so familiar that the knuckles of her fingers turned slightly white when she wiped the counter.
"Wang Yue."
Two words, cold and gentle, just like the first time he called her name outside the Medicine House ten years ago.
Lin Wanyue slowly straightened up. She fished the rag out of the bucket, wrung it out, and placed it on the edge of the bucket. Water drops flowed down the wall of the barrel, one drop, two drops, and hit the ground.
Then she looked up.
Jiang Qingchen stood three steps away from the counter. He was dressed in white, carrying a sword, and his eyebrows were still the same. He was so handsome that he looked like he had stepped out of a painting. He looked at her with just the right amount of guilt and pain in his eyes - it was in this look in her last life that she held up the family elixir in front of him.
"Is something wrong?" Lin Wanyue said, her throat a little dry.
Jiang Qingchen took a step forward. There was someone behind him, wearing a goose-yellow dress and standing with a low eyebrow. It was Su Waner.
"I heard that you opened a medicine shop here." Jiang Qingchen said, his voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of shocking her, "These years... You have suffered a lot."
Lin Wanyue smiled. She twitched the corner of her mouth with a very shallow arc: "Master Jiang Xian said this. I open my shop and sell my medicine, where does the pain come from?"
Jiang Qingchen's Adam's apple moved. His eyes glanced at the simple medicine shelf behind the counter and several pictures of hands on the wall.
