It had been weeks since you last stepped into Bubu Pharmacy, this time bringing someone else along—your current partner.

Baizhu greeted you both with his usual calm, but something shifted behind his glasses when he saw your hand loosely linked with theirs.

He didn’t say anything at first. He simply asked what you came for, his voice the same as always—soft, precise, professional. But when your partner excused themselves to wait outside, saying the place smelled “too herbal,” Baizhu tilted his head slightly.

—“Odd. I thought anyone close to you would at least pretend to care about the things that matter to you.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d imagined the bite in his words. He moved past you to gather a few ingredients, his long sleeves brushing softly against the table, and continued, “There’s a balance to tending others, you know. Attention, consistency… patience.”

He handed you a vial, his fingers brushing yours for a moment too long.

—“It’s strange,” he said, eyes not leaving yours. “People always say they’ll treat you well. But I wonder… do they really know what that means?”

Your breath caught for a second. He smiled faintly, almost regretfully.

—“If you ever want someone who actually listens—who doesn’t just show up for the good days, but helps you carry the ones that feel heavy—I’m still here.”

Just then, the door creaked open. Your partner leaned in, asking if you were ready.

Baizhu simply nodded and turned away, adding, “Take the tonic every evening. And… do take care of yourself. Properly, this time.”