You can hear now.

Yet the voice sounded like it was coming from far away—soft and distant, unlike any sound he remembered hearing before he went completely deaf. 

It didn’t quite sound human.

Chen Miansheng opened his mouth slightly, an unusually bewildered expression crossing his face.

It had truly been far, far too long since he last heard a sound. So long that it felt like something he could only dare to dream of in a past life.

Ever since that day, aside from the torment of illness, all he’d known was silence. Endless, suffocating silence. So when this sound suddenly invaded his ears without warning, Chen Miansheng actually thought for a moment that he was dreaming.

Just like the time that little cat suddenly appeared before his eyes in human form.

Too unreal.

But then, the girl had once again buried her head in a sheet of rice paper, scribbling away. As she wrote, she mumbled under her breath.

And so, the voice echoed in his ears again, perfectly synced with her lips: “Ugh, this is such a hassle. If I try to learn sign language now, it’s probably too late. Don’t tell me I’ll have to use this method to communicate with this damn deaf guy from now on?”

Logically speaking, any deaf person would probably feel a little uncomfortable upon hearing themselves being referred to as “deaf,” especially when the label came with such an unflattering adjective.

But somehow, coming from her lips, Chen Miansheng found the nickname strangely… endearing.

He quickly gathered his thoughts, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Fei Yan hand him the finished paper.

“But in your era, isn’t it inappropriate for an unmarried man and woman to live together like this?”

Especially considering that this arrangement meant she would be living under the same roof as him for a long, long time.

Chen Miansheng keenly caught the phrase “your era,” and his eyes lowered slightly in thought. He could now tell that the girl had not originally come from this time period.

That would explain all those odd and seemingly nonsensical things she’d said before.

After a brief silence, Chen Miansheng said softly, “We can just say that Little Orange is a distant relative of mine.”

Fei Yan wrote: “What about Gu Wu?”

Other people could be fooled easily enough, but Gu Wu had been by Chen Miansheng’s side for years. A sudden long-lost relative showing up would definitely raise suspicions.

Chen Miansheng understood her concern and gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head confidently. “Don’t worry. Xiao Wu won’t say a word to anyone.”

Back when Fei Yan was still asleep, Gu Wu had already come to the courtyard once on his own. Only to walk in on Chen Miansheng watching over the woman sleeping in bed.

The moment he saw the sleeping woman, his shock was no less than Chen Miansheng’s.

But Gu Wu had served him for many years, and thanks to his childhood training and discipline, he only needed a gesture, a sentence, or even just a glance from Chen Miansheng to know what to ask—and what not to ask.

Although Fei Yan didn’t know Gu Wu as well as she knew Chen Miansheng, she trusted Chen Miansheng’s judgment unconditionally.

So since he had said so, Fei Yan simply nodded and wrote, “Then let’s go with your plan.”

With the answer he’d been hoping for, Chen Miansheng curved his lips into a satisfied smile and stood up from the wooden chair.

“I’ll go bring the bed over from the back courtyard. Little Orange, you stay here and wait for me.”

“Wait!” Fei Yan blurted out instinctively.

Chen Miansheng stopped in his tracks.

It wasn’t until the words left her mouth that Fei Yan realized she’d slipped up. She quickly turned around to fetch paper and brush again, completely unaware of the strange expression that had flickered across Chen Miansheng’s face.

She wrote: “My name’s not Little Orange.”

Chen Miansheng raised his brows slightly.

Come to think of it, “Little Orange” had only been a casual name he’d given her on a whim. Since she was originally a human, of course she would have a real name. “Then what is your real name?”

“Fei Yan.”

The characters on the paper were written crookedly, in strange and twisted shapes, but Chen Miansheng felt that these two characters, as they leapt off the page, were truly far too beautiful.

His eyes lowered slightly, long lashes casting a soft shadow over them like crow feathers.

Moonlight streamed through the window, blending with the flicker of candlelight and bathing his face in a gentle, golden glow.

His tongue brushed against the roof of his mouth. After a long pause, he slowly opened his lips and repeated the two characters, one by one.

“Fei… Yan?”

Fei Yan assumed he was calling her name and instinctively looked up at him.

But to her surprise, Chen Miansheng’s gaze remained fixed on the two characters, his lips curved slightly, his expression unusually gentle.

Then Fei Yan heard him chuckle quietly—a soft, low sound, almost like a sigh—but his words, though spoken gently, rang clearly in her ears.

“It’s a beautiful name.”

And just like that, Fei Yan began living in the Chen family courtyard.

The room arrangement was reasonable—Fei Yan moved into Chen Miansheng’s former inner room, while he himself relocated to sleep in the study.

At first, Fei Yan felt a bit guilty for taking over someone else’s room and tried to suggest that she wouldn’t mind sleeping in the study.

But to her surprise, Chen Miansheng rejected the idea without hesitation. His reason was: “I prefer the study. After reading, I can rest right there—how convenient. That inner room should be left for you.”

Fei Yan briefly compared the bed that had been moved into the study to the one in the inner room and quietly arrived at a conclusion:

Chen Miansheng just liked to make things hard for himself.

The so-called “bed” from the back courtyard was better described as a folding bench.

It had been custom-made in town years ago when Chen Miansheng had fallen seriously ill. Gu Wu had insisted on staying with him but didn’t think it appropriate for a servant and master to share a room, so he had that bench made.

Its craftsmanship was rough, and for someone as tall as Chen Miansheng, sleeping on it seemed unreasonably cramped.

Still, since he insisted, Fei Yan didn’t make a fuss.

After Chen Miansheng moved his bedding, she took out a fresh set of bedding from the wardrobe and neatly made up the bed in the inner room.

Right before going to sleep, Fei Yan suddenly remembered something she had yet to do. She cradled her treasured box of silver needles and went to the study, gently knocking on the door and asking through it:

“Chen Miansheng, are you asleep?”

Only after knocking did she realize that Chen Miansheng couldn’t hear.

The lights in the study were still on, which meant he hadn’t gone to bed yet.

But barging in just like that wouldn’t be proper.

Besides, if she accidentally saw something she shouldn’t, she probably wouldn’t be able to face Chen Miansheng ever again.

That said, after such a long period of treatment, Fei Yan could now tell through pulse diagnosis that while the poison in Chen Miansheng’s body hadn’t been cleared, it had at least stabilized significantly.

She couldn’t bear to skip even a single day of acupuncture. After all, helping him recover as soon as possible was her greatest wish right now.

Just as she was torn about what to do, the door to the study suddenly opened from the inside.

Chen Miansheng seemed to be about to step out. When he looked up and saw Fei Yan, a flicker of surprise and confusion passed over his face. “Why are you here?”

Fei Yan was startled by the sudden opening of the door. After regaining her composure, she raised the needle case in her hand and exaggeratedly mouthed the word “acupuncture.”

The sight was so adorable in Chen Miansheng’s eyes that he had to look away and clear his throat unnaturally just to stop himself from laughing. “You know acupuncture?”

To Fei Yan, that sounded like he was questioning her professional skills.

Her brows furrowed slightly, and she slowly and clearly mouthed the words, “I know everything.”

Chen Miansheng recalled how passionate she had been about herbs when she first arrived at the medicine hall.

And how, ever since she secretly switched his prescriptions, his chronic cough had gradually improved. He figured that in her world, his little orange cat must have been an extraordinary doctor—so he stepped aside and left enough space for her to come in.

Once inside, Chen Miansheng pulled over a round stool and used it to prop the door wide open, leaving it completely ajar before following her into the room.

Fei Yan noticed the gesture and felt a warmth in her heart.

She knew Chen Miansheng’s character better than anyone, but his gesture still felt like the greatest show of respect and reassurance he could give.

Without wasting time, she began inserting the silver needles according to her usual steps.

The difference was—Chen Miansheng used to be asleep during these sessions, so she hadn’t felt much pressure.

But this time, he was fully awake.

With his eyes open, their gazes could lock at any moment—and his gaze was especially distracting. His long, narrow eyes naturally lifted at the corners, and his dark irises stared at her unblinkingly, nearly making her miss her mark multiple times.

In the end, Fei Yan couldn’t take it anymore. She glared at Chen Miansheng and exaggeratedly mouthed the words, “Close your eyes.”

Chen Miansheng broke into a smile. Just before the blush on her ears reached the tips, he finally obeyed and closed his eyes, not opening them again.

Fei Yan let out a long breath and steadied her hand to continue placing the next needle.

Minutes passed slowly, but the long acupuncture session was finally completed without incident.

Fei Yan patted the edge of the bed, signaling that he could open his eyes.

Chen Miansheng sat up, leaning half his body against the headboard, and looked at her.

He asked softly, “So you always did acupuncture for me like this before?”

“Yes.” Fei Yan answered too quickly, realizing a second later she’d slipped, but still nodded.

“Oh,” Chen Miansheng blinked, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You were able to turn human in the middle of the night before?”

Fei Yan shook her head and held up two fingers.

That clearly meant two hours. Chen Miansheng nodded, then asked, “Are you going back to the inner room now?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, he gave a barely audible tsk. Of all the things he could ask, why that?

Fei Yan didn’t notice the change in his expression. She just nodded.

She wasn’t his little cat anymore—there was no reason for her to stay by his side at night.

Chen Miansheng narrowed his eyes slightly. After a moment, he said softly, “Good night, Fei Yan.”

Hearing her name spoken by him like that, Fei Yan still wasn’t used to it.

She froze, meeting his gaze for a long moment before snapping back to herself. She carefully mouthed the words “Good night,” then stood and walked over to the desk to start gathering the needles.

In her hurry, she nearly stumbled.

With her back to him, Fei Yan sorted the silver needles very slowly, though her thoughts were elsewhere.

Ever since she learned from Thirteen that she only turned back into a human because Chen Miansheng had fallen for her, she had been deep in thought.

Did Chen Miansheng really like her?
If so—why hadn’t he told her directly?

Should she confess her feelings to Chen Miansheng? But up to now, Chen Miansheng hadn’t shown the slightest sign that he liked her. If she told him outright, would he reject her?

Yet the moment Fei Yan looked away from Chen Miansheng’s face just now, everything seemed to clear up in her mind.

Whether Chen Miansheng liked her or not, at least she was certain of her own feelings. Right now, the only thing she needed to do was give her all to cure his hearing.

On the other side—

Chen Miansheng remained in the same posture he’d had when Fei Yan got up and left, half-leaning against the bed. He silently watched her retreating figure, his expression calm.

At this moment, his ears were frighteningly quiet. There wasn’t a single sound.

In theory, after all these years, he should have long been used to this—but perhaps those few fleeting sounds he’d heard earlier tonight had stirred some hope within him. All of a sudden, he very much wanted to hear the girl’s voice again. Desperately so.

The next second, Chen Miansheng’s pupils shrank slightly.

It was as if Heaven had heard his wish—like a man in the desert discovering an oasis, or light piercing through a dark prison. In short, he actually heard that soft, airy voice once again.

Fei Yan hadn’t turned back, and was still some distance away from him.

He guessed it must be that mysterious force that could turn Fei Yan into a cat. Otherwise, her voice wouldn’t have sounded so clearly in his ears.

He heard the girl saying, “Chen Miansheng, you have to get better soon. I still have so, so many things I want to say to you.”

Chen Miansheng froze for a brief moment, then his features softened, his gaze turning as gentle as moonlight melting in his eyes.

He pressed his lips together, tilted his head slightly, and a faint smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

What would her reaction be, he wondered, if he told her right now that he could already hear her?

Chen Miansheng was curious—so he did just that. He opened his mouth.

“Actually…”

Unfortunately, Fei Yan didn’t give him the chance.

She fastened the clasp on the cloth pouch holding the needles and, without realizing it, interrupted him with a quick, “I’m leaving.”

Realizing she’d been careless again, Fei Yan turned back and waved at Chen Miansheng before leaving the study without a backward glance.

The words stuck halfway in Chen Miansheng’s throat, unspoken. He stared at the tightly shut door, and after a moment of silence, let out a helpless sigh.

“Forget it. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

After returning to the inner room, Fei Yan lay down to rest. Though she had finally turned back into a human, her sleep was far from peaceful.

Even though the quilt she was using was a fresh one, she couldn’t shake the thought that “Chen Miansheng had used it before.” The subtle scent of pine and coolness grew stronger around her nose. She tossed and turned for quite a while before she finally managed to fall asleep.

The moon climbed high in the sky, and the small courtyard was completely still.

Fei Yan unconsciously rolled over in bed, slipping into deep sleep.

Naturally, she didn’t hear Thirteen’s voice in her mind.

[Warning: System energy insufficient. Instability detected. Host will revert to cat form within the time it takes to burn one stick of incense. Warning: System…]

The next morning.

Fei Yan woke from her dreams, breathing a little heavily. The air around her felt stuffy and hard to breathe.

She opened her eyes groggily, only to find herself surrounded by darkness.

Fei Yan: “?”

What the hell? Was she blind?

She panted a few times, suddenly sensing that something felt… off.

She tentatively raised a hand to touch her face—and instantly noticed the change in texture.

It wasn’t a smooth human fingertip she felt, but a soft, fluffy paw pad.

Fei Yan slowly processed this.

Wait a second. Why had she turned back into a cat again?!

At that moment, a knock gently sounded at the door, followed by Chen Miansheng’s warm, soft voice: “Fei Yan, are you up? I’ve prepared breakfast.”

Fei Yan jumped. Not caring whether Chen Miansheng could hear her or not, she instinctively called out, “I’m up, I’m up, just don’t come in yet!”

Though it wasn’t her human voice, the panic in her tone came through loud and clear.

Chen Miansheng frowned slightly. Even though he was worried, there were still boundaries between men and women. He couldn’t just barge into her room, so he waited patiently outside.

Fei Yan quickly wriggled out from under the thick quilt. While taking deep breaths of fresh air, she called out,

“Thirteen, come out.”

[Hello, Host. The system is at your service.]

“Didn’t you say Chen Miansheng likes me? Then why did I turn back into a cat again?”

Could it be that Chen Miansheng only liked her in her cat form, and once she turned into a human, he didn’t like her anymore?

What kind of twisted logic is that?

[…Because you only just returned to human form last night, the system didn’t have time to stabilize. There wasn’t enough energy to maintain your human form.]

Fei Yan slowly processed this: “Then why didn’t you tell me beforehand?”

[Host, you didn’t finish listening last night.]

Fei Yan frowned and racked her brain—then finally remembered.

She really hadn’t heard the rest of what Thirteen was saying, because she’d been too stunned by the revelation that “Chen Miansheng liked her.” She had cut him off mid-sentence.

…It was her fault.

“When can I change back?” Fei Yan looked at her fluffy paw pads with tears in her eyes, miserably twitching her tail.

She had gone through so much to finally appear human in front of Chen Miansheng. She didn’t want to turn into a cat again so soon.

[Currently, system energy is sufficient to restore your human form. Reverting in 3, 2, 1—]

Unlike the sensation when she transformed from “Midnight Cinderella,” this time the change felt completely natural. In the blink of an eye, Fei Yan returned to her human form.

She quickly pulled her clothes out from under the quilt and got dressed, then checked herself several times in the bronze mirror. Only after making sure she looked presentable did she hurry to the door and open it.

Unfortunately, she had slept so poorly last night that she now had two huge dark circles under her eyes.

When Chen Miansheng saw her like this, he frowned slightly. Thinking of how the girl had been up to something in her room just now, he stayed silent for a few seconds before asking, “Did you not sleep well last night?”

Fei Yan nodded and habitually said “Mm,” following it up with a yawn.

She was so sleepy that her already soft voice sounded even more drowsy. The corners of her eyes welled up with tears from exhaustion, making her look like a kitten who hadn’t fully woken up.

Chen Miansheng pressed his lips together. “If you’re that tired, how about resting in the courtyard today? I can go to the medicine hall on my own.”

“It’s fine,” Fei Yan waved a hand and forced her eyes open, her tearful gaze meeting his. “Is breakfast ready?”

Chen Miansheng said, “It’s ready—it’s in the woodshed.”

He turned to leave, but then noticed that Fei Yan, who just moments ago looked drowsy, had suddenly changed her expression and stood frozen in place.

Realizing something was off, Chen Miansheng looked back at her, a bit confused. “What’s wrong?”

At that moment, any trace of sleepiness had vanished from Fei Yan’s face. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her almond-shaped eyes were fixed intently on him. She locked gazes with him for a long while before speaking, word by word.

“You can hear me.”

She didn’t use a questioning tone when she said it. Instead, her voice was firm, as if she were stating a fact.

Chen Miansheng opened his mouth, immediately realizing he’d slipped up.

He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, thinking of how best to explain. “I wouldn’t say I can hear, exactly…”

But Fei Yan seemed to ignore that comment and instead asked directly, “Since when could you hear?”

Her expression was so serious that Chen Miansheng suspected she might be angry.

Which would make sense—last night, in the study, she had spoken to herself, her words clearly filled with concern for him. Yet he’d been able to hear and still chose not to tell her. If he put himself in her shoes, her reaction was perfectly reasonable.

Lowering his eyes, Chen Miansheng thought for a moment and decided to go along with her line of questioning.

“Last night in the study—when you walked off to the side and told me to wait a moment.”

Fei Yan frowned, going over the timeline in her head. That matched exactly with when she’d used the attribute: Please listen to my heart.

Could it be that the effect of that attribute wasn’t on her, but on Chen Miansheng?

Suddenly remembering how she had immediately afterward called him a “damn deaf,” Fei Yan felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if he had misunderstood.

But the moment her gaze shifted to his face and caught his rather unsettled expression, Fei Yan realized that if anyone was in the wrong now, it was actually Chen Miansheng.

With that realization, she instantly felt more confident. She gave him a glare of feigned anger and said sarcastically, “Well, congratulations to you, then,” before turning and heading toward the woodshed, deciding to let him stew for a while.

But before she could even take a step, her slender wrist was gently caught by a hand.

Through the thin inner layer of her robe, Chen Miansheng’s fingers lightly touched her skin. He wasn’t using any real force, but the warmth of his fingers was impossible to ignore.

Fei Yan froze in place, completely forgetting to pretend to be angry, and stared blankly at his hand.

Following her gaze to the back of his own hand, Chen Miansheng realized his behavior was inappropriate. He quickly let go and, with a slightly hoarse voice, muttered, “Sorry.”

But even as he apologized, a stray thought popped into his head: She’s so thin.

Back when she was just a little orange cat, he had fed her until she was plump and soft. Now that she had turned human, she was as skinny as a stick.

Like she might get knocked over by a gust of wind.

Fei Yan wasn’t bound by the feudal etiquette of this era, so physical contact between men and women wasn’t something she took too seriously.

She merely furrowed her brow slightly and reflexively said, “Why are you acting like a pervert again?”

“Pervert ?” Chen Miansheng echoed, puzzled by her words.

The word “pervert” didn’t carry the same meaning in this era as it did in modern times. Fei Yan blinked and slowly enunciated, “A scoundrel.”

Chen Miansheng looked startled—clearly he hadn’t expected her to call him that. Then he gave a low chuckle. “Me?”

Fei Yan huffed and pouted. “Who else would it be if not you?”

Chen Miansheng smiled. “I admit what I did was inappropriate. But why did you say again?”

That one word immediately triggered a memory—of the night he unconsciously kept gripping the back of her neck while he was unconscious.

As that sensation of his cool fingers brushing against her neck resurfaced in her mind, a faint blush crept over the tips of her ears. She opened her mouth to speak but faltered, and after a long pause, forced herself to act fierce again.

“Don’t try to change the subject. I haven’t even started holding you accountable for hiding this from me.”

Honestly, even if the voice he heard now wasn’t her real one—or rather, was a transformed version of it—it was still incredibly pleasant to hear.

With that voice paired with her current expression, Chen Miansheng truly… had a hard time holding back a smile.

But knowing she was still upset, he figured that teasing her now would just add fuel to the fire.

So he cleared his throat and replied seriously, “Then at least give me a chance to explain, okay?”

His voice, as always, was warm and gentle, with a coaxing undertone. That alone softened Fei Yan’s temper a little.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

Chen Miansheng cleared his throat again and said solemnly:

“I haven’t regained my full hearing. To be precise, right now, I can only hear your voice. And it sounds as if it’s coming from far away. I don’t think it’s your true voice.”

Fei Yan’s pupils contracted slightly.

He could only hear… her voice?

Chen Miansheng continued, “It was wrong of me not to tell you right away. I just… I hadn’t heard anything for so long that when I finally did, it didn’t feel real.”

He paused, his lashes lowering slightly. “And I wasn’t sure if it would last. I was afraid that if I told you the good news, the very next moment I’d lose it again.”

I was afraid that if I told you the good news, I’d lose it the very next moment…

Something in Fei Yan’s heart twinged unexpectedly. A sudden ache crept in.

Yet Chen Miansheng just looked at her calmly, his dark eyes quietly reflecting her image. That gentle, warm voice of his remained unchanged, like he didn’t think any of what he’d said was a big deal—like she was the only one in the world who mattered.

“Actually, when I heard you say last night that you hoped I’d get better soon, I wanted to tell you right then. But you left too quickly, and I didn’t get the chance. I thought I’d tell you today, but you found out first.”

As he finished, Chen Miansheng pressed his lips together and gave her a faint smile, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness, as if testing the waters.

“Fei Yan, are you still mad?”

Just then, a gentle breeze blew past, lifting the fine strands of hair on Fei Yan’s forehead and sending them fluttering in front of her eyes.

Fei Yan averted her gaze uncomfortably, replying with something completely unrelated.

“I’m hungry.”

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