"So annoying." Henry Clark slammed his fist on the bed. "Julia Lane can do it, but I can't?"

"Julia Lane has done hard labor for years. Why are you even comparing yourself to him?"

Henry Clark, fuming, got out of bed, threw on a fox-fur robe, and walked out from behind the screen. "But I'm taller than him."

William Carter put down his book and looked at him. "Young Marquis."

"What?"

William Carter imitated Henry Clark's tone perfectly: "Don't be so competitive in life."

Henry Clark was momentarily speechless, completely unable to retort, and his frustrated expression made the corners of William Carter's mouth involuntarily curl up.

William Carter actually smiled often, but most of the time it was a cold or mocking smile. This gentle smile was the first time Henry Clark had ever seen it.

In the dim light, William Carter was half-reclining on the soft couch, black hair falling over his chest, holding a book in his hands, all his defenses and coldness set aside, quietly looking at you and smiling.

Suddenly, Henry Clark understood what it meant when people said, "Beauty is in the bones, not the skin." He couldn't help but lower his voice, as if afraid to disturb William Carter. "Does it still hurt?"

William Carter's attention returned to his book. "It's fine."

Henry Clark sat down beside the soft couch and said, "You're a patient now too. Go sleep on the bed."

William Carter thought Henry Clark wanted to switch places—he would sleep on the bed, and Henry Clark would take the couch. "No need, you're more seriously ill than I am."

Henry Clark replied matter-of-factly, "That's why I should sleep on the bed too."

William Carter's fingers paused, then he simply refused: "No."

"Neither of us are into men, so what's there to be afraid of?"

William Carter calmly turned a page. "I'm afraid you'll crush my hair."

Henry Clark never expected William Carter to use this excuse to refuse him, and couldn't help but laugh. "You've never slept with me, so how do you know I'll crush your hair?"

"Because you sleep terribly."

"Then at least give it a try with me. You'll know once you try."

"Not trying."

"Now you're just being unreasonable," Henry Clark accused. "You can't mix up the me in your imagination with the real me..."

William Carter looked up at him, feigning coldness. "Young Marquis, if you keep talking nonsense, I can make you unable to say a single word for three days. Do you believe it?"

"I do—why wouldn't I?" Henry Clark grumbled as he went back to lie on the bed. "You're the venomous beauty who dared to strike at the Eastern Palace. There's nothing you wouldn't do."

News of William Carter's injury reached Madam Liang. She sent a maid to offer her regards, just for appearances' sake. Another unfamiliar maid came to Lan Feng Pavilion, bringing William Carter several patches of medicinal plaster, saying it was a secret family recipe from their concubine, with miraculous effects on sprains.

William Carter asked, "Your concubine?"

"That's Madam Parker from Mianyue Studio," the maid said with a smile. "Young Lord probably hasn't met her yet."

Among the noble families in the capital, the inner residence of the Marquis of Nan'an was considered sparsely populated. Besides his official wife, the Marquis only had two or three concubines. Madam Liang managed things well, and the concubines behaved themselves. Although William Carter was the Young Lord, he was still a man. There was a separation between men and women, so unless it was a major holiday, he usually didn't see these concubines.

William Carter sniffed the medicinal plaster; it was indeed good medicine. But he was a stranger to Madam Parker and didn't want to owe her a favor.

Just as William Carter was about to refuse, Henry Clark walked out from the inner hall and spoke for him: "Just leave the medicine here, and thank your mistress for us."

With others present, William Carter said nothing. After the maid left, before William Carter could ask, Henry Clark said, "Madam Parker doesn't have any bad intentions. She's timid and honest. You can give her some face; maybe she'll join your side in the future."

William Carter asked, "The Young Marquis never concerns himself with the inner residence. How do you know who's good or bad?"

Henry Clark half-jokingly replied, "Because, like the Grand Preceptor of Dayu, I can observe the stars at night and predict the future."

William Carter: "..."

William Carter had been married into the Marquis's household for some time now, and he knew that although Henry Clark seemed unreliable, he had never harbored any ill will toward him. In the entire Nan'an Marquis's residence, with hundreds of people, only Henry Clark was barely worthy of his trust. He also wanted to get along peacefully with Henry Clark, but... Henry Clark could only be serious for a quarter of an hour at most, and his inexplicable nonsense—when would he ever change!

"Then go observe the stars," William Carter said coldly. "Don't come here to annoy me."

Henry Clark pretended not to hear William Carter's dismissal, fiddling with the medicinal plasters from Madam Parker. "Do you remember the acupuncture pouch I once wanted to give you, but you heartlessly refused? That was a wedding gift from Madam Parker, and she sewed it herself."

William Carter was a little surprised. "Really."

Was Parker's repeated kindness truly out of goodwill, or did she have another motive?

As William Carter pondered this, his ankle was suddenly grabbed and lifted. He met Henry Clark's gaze, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you apply the medicine."

William Carter struggled a little. "No need, let go."

Henry Clark held his ankle firmly, smiling. "No need to be polite. I'm really good at applying patches—guaranteed to make it look perfect."

"Move." William Carter used only seventy percent of his strength, but easily broke free from Henry Clark's grip, then left with the help of Julia Lane.