He wore a simple, coarse blue robe. He was quite thin, with somewhat plain features. Not striking at first glance, but his was the kind of face that grows on you—the more you looked, the more pleasant he seemed.
To be honest, he looked less like a doctor and more like a scholar. The air around him seemed to carry the scent of books rather than medicine.
"Since you put it that way, I feel much more at ease."
Ping'an, who had been listening from the side for a long time, finally couldn't help but voice his worries.
"Young Master, Miss Ji, this seems a little...unreliable. Winter is almost over. The hand cream won't sell for much longer..."
Ji Huan raised a finger and wagged it at him.
