As the night fell, the stars twinkled like fireflies; the Li family courtyard had sunk into a deep sleep, only Song Shijiu’s room lit bright, the traces of a quiet, cold, elegant shadow on the screen window, which had attracted a layer of comfortable warmth in the yellow light. When Song Shijiu had returned from the mountain god temple, she’d immediately been struck with a fever, eyes blinking dazedly as she’d spoken nonsense; Tu Laoyao had volunteered to go look for A Luo; when A Luo heard about it, she said it was just snake venom from having just switched noses, and the fever would be gone in a night. Said like this, Li Shiyi couldn’t relax, and fed Song Shijiu half a bowl of plain rice porridge, sitting by the bedside and making sure that she slept peacefully. Song Shijiu’s vitality had improved a bit, but her cheeks still remained crimson, and her lips were also bright red, as if they’d been stained by juice from blossoms; her eyes were parted narrowly, as if having been assaulted...