"A-Li, can this Nine-leaf Paris truly cure lovesickness?" I pinched the strangely shaped herb and looked at A-Li, who was pounding medicine beside me.
Hearing this, A-Li stopped what she was doing, looked up with curved eyebrows, and said with a smile, "My lady, this is merely a folk rumor. Two taels of Nine-leaf Paris, one mace of winter solstice cicada chrysalis, brewed in snow from the previous year—how could such ingredients ever be gathered so easily? It is nothing more than people's emotional sustenance for the agony of lovesickness."
I sighed softly, laid the Nine-leaf Paris aside, and my thoughts involuntarily drifted toward that person—Shen Qingyan. He was a fellow student I met while studying at the academy, dressed in a simple green robe, as gentle as jade, his brilliance shining naturally through his vast knowledge of literature and poetry. Back then, the two of us would read and recite poems together under the academy's long corridors, admiring the lotus flowers and watching the fish by the lake. Those days were simple and wonderful.
Chapter 235