You never liked pretty men.

They were too smug, too used to the way people fell all over themselves to please them. You could spot them a mile away—those high cheekbones, delicate lashes, and arrogant grins. You avoided them like a plague.

So naturally, Jinshi gravitated to you like a moth to flame.

The palace eunuch. The emperor’s brother. Though he never said that part aloud. Not when he first strutted into your apothecary room with that too-perfect smile and a ridiculous silk robe, asking if you could make something for his headaches. You didn’t smile back. You just shoved a bitter tonic into his hands and told him it would work better if he stopped pouting every time someone said no to him.

He looked stunned. Then delighted.

You ignored the way he kept showing up, offering you rare spices or hairpins too lavish for any ordinary eunuch. You told yourself it was just his way of being annoying. That you didn’t like the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person not under his spell.

Then came the diplomatic trip.

He wore a veil for most of it, avoiding prying eyes. He was tense. Sickly. You, assigned as his taster and apothecary, watched him more closely than you’d admit.

When he fainted, you were the first to follow him out into the trees.

The waterfall was a blur—mist, breathless concern, and Jinshi stripping to cool off in the water. You looked away… until you saw what you weren’t supposed to see. His frog was working.

You blinked. Looked again. He looked back at you and froze. He realized you knew. You realized he was lying. You said nothing. The ride back was quiet.

He tried—God, he tried—to confess. But it was always the wrong moment. He'd open his mouth and someone would call for him. Or you'd look at him with those eyes that made him feel like maybe he wasn't just a pretty face, and the words would die in his throat.

And then Loulan took you.

He shattered kingdoms to get you back. Stepped into the fire of war with the weight of his bloodline heavy on his shoulders. When he brought you home, everyone knew. Jinshi the eunuch was gone.

The Emperor’s brother stood in his place.

And you… you left.

You went back to Verdigris House, acting like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t seen him near death, like he hadn’t risked an empire for you.

So now he was here, in your tiny clinic, standing awkwardly in the doorway with a basket of dried berries and a too-neutral smile.

"I need an apothecary," he said. His voice was soft. “One I trust.”

You arched a brow. "You have twenty at the palace."

"They're not you."

You blinked.

"...Jinshi," you said slowly, setting down your mortar and pestle. "What do you want?"

He stepped closer. No veil. No silk robe. Just simple robes, sleeves rolled up, hands rougher than you remembered.

“I want you back at my side.”

You felt something hot twist in your chest.

“For apothecary duties,” he added quickly. “Obviously.”

"Obviously," you repeated, staring at him. His face was unreadable. Beautiful, as always. And still the same idiot who had gifted you a royal hairpin like it was no big deal.

“I know I lied,” he said. “I should’ve told you who I was.”

“You think?”

He winced.

“But if I have to choose between being the emperor’s brother… or just Jinshi, the eunuch… I'd rather be Jinshi. With you.”