Patchouli
After dinner, Shen Xifan had originally planned to go to bed early, hoping to sleep away all those damned memories. But then the floor manager came running over, "Manager Shen, there's trouble!"
She immediately jumped up, fully alert, "What happened?"
"A guest in Villa No. 7, Zone C, has complained about the Room Service!"
Her temples throbbed inexplicably again, "Villa No. 7, Zone C… Ling… that what's-his-name?"
The floor manager nodded.
"Let's go take a look."
Winter nights were bitterly cold. Shen Xifan was only wearing her usual office suit—the thin fabric did nothing to ward off the chill. Zone C was near the water, where the wind was strong and biting. She shivered uncontrollably, sneezing several times in a row.
The door to Villa No. 7 was wide open. Ling Yufan leaned against the doorframe, his shirt buttoned only once, toying with his glasses as he chuckled softly. Beside him stood a service attendant, her hair disheveled, shoulders trembling. A closer look revealed tear-streaked cheeks and smudged makeup.
Shen Xifan could roughly guess what had happened, but she still had to play dumb in front of this young master. Cautiously, she asked, "Good evening, Mr. Ling. May I ask what dissatisfaction you have with our Room Service?"
Ling Yufan narrowed his peach-blossom eyes, sizing her up before drawling, "Your hotel’s Room Service offerings are quite extensive. I didn’t realize they included sleeping with guests?"
Suppressing her anger, she maintained a calm tone, "Mr. Ling, please clarify. If there’s any fault on our part, we will certainly correct it!"
He scoffed, "Can’t Manager Shen see what’s happened here?" The unbuttoned shirt fluttered in the wind, revealing his toned physique.
Shen Xifan patiently explained, "I believe this must be a misunderstanding. Mr. Ling, I sincerely apologize for failing to manage my staff properly and causing you such trouble. Please forgive us!"
"Misunderstanding? How could it be a misunderstanding? Hah, Manager Shen, you do have a sense of humor. I merely ordered a late-night snack, but your Room Attendant treated me as the meal. How do you explain that?"
Shen Xifan didn’t believe for a second that the attendant had thrown herself at him, but she forced herself to say, "Mr. Ling, we will handle this matter seriously and provide you with a satisfactory response by tomorrow morning. As a gesture of apology, we will send you a VIP card, grant you access to the golf course once, and offer complimentary membership. Please understand that this was an unfortunate oversight in our service."
Ling Yufan smirked—a look Shen Xifan interpreted as half-taunting, half-disdainful. Suddenly, he leaned in close, his breath warm and suggestive, "Then, would Manager Shen be willing to 'personally' compensate me?"
Shen Xifan ignored the provocation, her expression unchanged as she bowed slightly. "If there’s nothing else, Mr. Ling, I’ll take my leave now. We will inform you of our resolution tomorrow. Good night!"
Ling Yufan paused, momentarily taken aback. He put on his glasses, studying her with amusement, only to find her gaze steady and fearless. Intrigued, he glanced at the attendant and the floor manager before stepping back inside and shutting the door. Only then did Shen Xifan exhale in relief.
The three of them walked in silence away from Zone C. Once on the path, Shen Xifan asked, "What really happened?"The little girl sobbed, "Manager, it really wasn't me. I just went in to deliver the late-night snack, and then he... he wanted me to do that with him..."
With a raised eyebrow, she retorted, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, is it? He made the move, and you took the bait, only to get bitten back. Am I right?"
The girl fell silent, biting her lip as if wanting to argue further. "Supervisor Shen, I..."
Her expression darkened. "Do you want to resign voluntarily, or should we fire you? Make your choice."
"Manager Shen!" The girl pleaded tearfully. "Please don't make me leave, okay?"
She rubbed her temples wearily, her voice sounding weak. "Go to the finance department tomorrow to settle your salary. I don't want to say more. You've disappointed me greatly. Sometimes, mistakes can be fatal—one wrong step, and there's no chance to make amends. I won't mention this incident in your evaluation. Just resign on your own."
After a pause, she sighed. "Zhang Jie, take her back first. I'll go check elsewhere to make sure nothing else happens."
Walking along the forest path, her thoughts were in disarray. She remembered how she had once made a mistake and was dismissed from the student council. Back then, she had run to Dai Heng in tears, and he told her that some mistakes offered no chance for redemption—so it was best never to make them in the first place. At the time, she hadn't understood. She couldn't comprehend why, if it wasn't murder, arson, or robbery, she couldn't be given another chance. Now, she finally understood. Dai Heng had been right—some principled mistakes were unforgivable.
Dai Heng... Yan Heng... Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by something unspoken. To distract herself, she turned her gaze to the moonlight.
Originally, she had planned to go from Zone C to Zone F, then circle back to Zones A and B. But remembering that the man lived in F3, she stopped at the entrance to Zone F, instructing the supervisor to keep an eye on things and report back to her by phone.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of F3, brightly lit—a familiar scene. Dai Heng had never liked studying in libraries or classrooms. Whenever he studied in his dorm, he would turn on all the lights. He said it was a habit from childhood—when his mother wasn't home, he would turn on every light in the house to feel safe.
Back then, she had thought of Dai Heng as a light himself. By his side, she had always felt secure.
The next morning, Shen Xifan woke up feeling unwell—her body weak and listless. During the morning meeting, Lin Yishen, sitting beside her, kept glancing her way. After the meeting, he asked, "Xifan, why is your face so red?"
Hearing this, Xu Xiangya also leaned in, touching her forehead before exclaiming, "Oh no, Xifan, you're running a fever!"
Eventually, even Director Cheng was alerted. "Manager Shen, go to the hospital first. You don't need to be on duty today."
She sighed inwardly at her bad luck but didn't dare delay. At home, she took her temperature—not too high, just 37.6°C. Her throat didn't hurt, and it definitely wasn't tonsillitis. She had been a frequent patient at the hospital since childhood, known by all the nurses and doctors. As she grew older, her health improved, though she still caught the occasional cold.
She obediently went to the hospital, careful not to mention her fever for fear of being quarantined as a SARS patient. She registered for the respiratory outpatient clinic, and fortunately, the line wasn't long—soon, it was her turn.
Nervously, she asked, "Doctor, could it be SARS?"The chief physician assured her, "Definitely not. It's just a chill. Your tonsils aren't inflamed, there's no cough, just a low-grade fever. No need for injections—just take some cold medicine and you'll be fine."
Hesitantly, she asked, "But won't medicine take too long? I've been really busy with work lately!"
The elderly doctor kindly suggested, "Chinese herbal medicine works faster for this kind of cold. Why don't you go register at the Traditional Chinese Medicine Internal Medicine department?"
In the end, she went to register at the TCM Internal Medicine department. But today, the TCM building was unusually crowded, filled with expectant mothers and elderly folks. Shen Xifan had no choice but to hand in her medical records at the front desk and sit down to wait for her number to be called.
From the Chinese herbal medicine pharmacy across the way came waves of bitter aromas mixed with warm steam, making her already drowsy state even more lethargic. Unconsciously, her body felt heavier. In her daze, she recalled falling ill during her university days.
Back then, she had been Dai Heng's treasure. He doted on her, indulged her, and worried over her. Even a slight sniffle or cough from her would send him into a panic. Then, during their sophomore winter, she actually caught a severe cold.
She remembered how Dai Heng had skipped classes for several days to accompany her to the hospital for IV drips. The cold medicine flowing into her veins made her arm freeze, so he would warm her hands with his own. She would lean drowsily against his shoulder, half-asleep, praying for the IV to drip slower. When she had no appetite, he would cook vegetable congee in his dorm, wrap it in a padded jacket, and bring it to her, feeding her spoon by spoon while he himself ate cold leftovers from the cafeteria. Before leaving, he would kiss her, lips and tongues entwined, not caring at all if her cold virus might infect him.
But later, he no longer wanted her. He was with another girl, and she could no longer hold onto his heart. The day after their breakup, having been caught in the rain all day, she ended up in the hospital again. This time, no one accompanied her. She had to register and get the IV drip alone. She texted Dai Heng, "I'm sick. Can you come see me?" He only replied, "Shen Xifan, we have nothing to do with each other now. Why are you still clinging to me?" Tears fell one by one onto her IV-injected hand as she silently thought, Yes, now I'm all alone. Even alone, I have to live well. But why do I still miss so much the warmth of being by your side when I was sick?
Shen Xifan was lost in a daze when she suddenly heard someone calling her name. She snapped her eyes open and realized the corners were slightly damp. Turning her head, she was startled. "...Doctor He..."
He looked surprised, then explained gently, "The nurse called your name several times, but there was no response. It's already noon, and there's no one left. I came out and found you here. What's wrong? Are you sick?"
She sniffled exaggeratedly. "I have a fever!"
He Suye smiled. "Crying over a fever? Come in, let me take a look."
Shen Xifan stared blankly at the doctor before standing up and following him. His broad shoulders gave her a sense of reliability.
"It's just a simple fever," He Suye reassured her. "Not atypical pneumonia. Feel better now? No more crying?"
She felt embarrassed. "I'm really sorry for troubling you, Doctor He."
"It's fine. It's just external heat syndrome. A couple doses of Chinese herbal medicine will fix you right up."Shen Xifan muttered to herself, "Exogenous fever? Ephedra and Cinnamon Twig Decoction?"
He Suye burst out laughing, "You can't take that—it's too strong. With your weak constitution, the sweating it induces would be too much for you." He paused, then asked, "How did you know about this prescription?"
She felt a bit embarrassed. "Back in school, I worked on a translation project about Chinese herbal medicine. I had to look up a lot of books to find it, so it left a deep impression."
He Suye picked up a pen and began writing the prescription, reciting as he wrote, "Honeysuckle, forsythia, fermented soybeans, dandelion, bupleurum, astragalus, saposhnikovia, poria, patchouli, pinellia ternata, ginger, and red dates. That should do it."
Pointing at "patchouli," she said, "I really love this name!"
He Suye nodded. "Patchouli—fragrant and turbidity-resolving, appetizing and antiemetic, diaphoretic and summerheat-relieving. Used for fever with chills, early-stage damp-warmth syndrome, and chest and epigastric stuffiness." Then he added, "Actually, patchouli is also an ornamental plant."
Unsure how to respond, she simply nodded and took the prescription, ready to leave.
He Suye called her back, "You're still running a fever. Here's what we'll do: you go pay the fee, and I'll prepare the medicine for you at the pharmacy. No need to come back this afternoon—can you wait half an hour?"
Shen Xifan was stunned. Why was this doctor being so kind? She mechanically thanked him, "I really appreciate it, Doctor He!"
True to his word, over half an hour later, He Suye emerged with a packet of medicine. She touched it—still piping hot. The doctor instructed, "Three times a day for two days. Don't get it wrong this time!"
Shen Xifan grimaced, "Doctor He, I'm about to drown in Chinese herbal medicine!"
He gave her a look that said, "Why is this patient so slow?" and replied, "If you take this, you can stop the other one. But if you feel it's not enough, taking both won't conflict."
She forced an awkward smile. Aside from the occasional scolding, this doctor was actually quite nice, she thought.
Back home, she immediately took out the medicine—still warm—and poured it into a bowl. It had a slightly spicy yet fragrant aroma. Assuming it would be as sweet as the last batch, she took a sip without mentally preparing herself and nearly spat it out—it was incredibly bitter.
Gritting her teeth, she downed it in one go, rinsing her mouth several times with water before recovering. This time, a subtle spiciness lingered on her lips and tongue, undoubtedly from the patchouli and ginger. The spiciness was rich and left a lasting aftertaste.
As the saying goes, good medicine tastes bitter but cures the illness. The fever-induced sweat she couldn't produce earlier was now coaxed out by this herbal concoction. Soon, beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Pleased, she climbed into bed, bundled under thick blankets, and fell fast asleep.
By midnight, she was drenched in sweat. Touching her forehead, she found her temperature had normalized. Delighted, she mumbled, "Chinese herbal medicine really works," before turning over and drifting back to sleep.
The next morning, she woke up refreshed, though her pajamas were soaked. She headed for a shower. Midway, her phone rang insistently, but she ignored it. It rang several more times after that.
After getting dressed, she saw the calls were from Xu Xiangya. Smiling, she paid no mind and instead grabbed juice and eggs from the fridge, toasted some bread, and sat down to breakfast bathed in warm sunlight.The phone rang again, and she answered it belatedly. Xu Xiangya’s resentful voice came through, “Xifan, what exactly does Yan Heng want to eat? I’ve asked everyone and no one has any ideas, so I had to come to you.”
She froze, and the bread she was nibbling on fell from her mouth. Xu Xiangya continued indignantly, “Maybe I should just buy some dog food. This morning when the waiter delivered breakfast, he said Yan Heng frowned at it and only took a few bites before leaving it untouched.”
Dai Heng was extremely picky—Shen Xifan knew this well. She asked, “What did you prepare for breakfast?”
“Fried eggs, whole wheat bread, milk, ham, and jam.”
She sighed. “The fried eggs should be medium, with the yolk still runny. Swap the whole wheat bread for milk toast. The only jam he eats is white cherry rose jam. The milk should be warm, preferably from Mengniu or Yili. Replace the ham with mashed potatoes.”
Xu Xiangya gasped. “Damn, he’s really picky!” Then, curiously, she added, “Xifan, how do you know so much? It’s not in the records.”
A complicated feeling rose in Shen Xifan’s chest, and she evaded, “I just found out yesterday. I’ll give you some pointers when we’re at work.”
Xu Xiangya groaned. “You’d better come early. This picky lord is waiting for you to arrange his meals!”
When she returned to the hotel, the head of Jingge reported, “Manager Shen, last night’s incident has been handled. However, Mr. Ling went to ‘Cyber’ for a meeting this morning.”
She rubbed her temples out of habit. “Good. Prepare the VIP card and such for tonight and come with me to give an explanation.” After a pause, she asked, “Does Director Cheng know about this?”
“It’s been reported. Director Cheng approved the solution and wants all staff to learn from this.”
Later, Xu Xiangya came to find her, sighing. “Work is exhausting these days. We’re all just here to serve others. If we lived in ancient times, we’d be slaves—not daring to go west if the master says east…”
Shen Xifan held a cup of tea. “Enough nonsense. Listen carefully: he only eats lean meat—pork and beef, chicken occasionally. He likes congee, especially authentic Cantonese-style. He rarely eats spicy food but loves Chongqing hotpot. He enjoys soups made with mushrooms and Chinese herbal medicine. He likes seafood but not fish. He loves Western desserts, especially cheesecake. For today’s menu, focus on Jiangsu-Zhejiang cuisine, pair it with a nourishing soup, use sago pudding for dessert, and prepare chicken congee with some appetizers for supper.”
Xu Xiangya gasped in admiration. “Xifan, you’re amazing! You should be the Food and Beverage Manager!” Clutching her notebook, she hurried off, muttering, “Quick, quick, I’m off!”
Shen Xifan smiled wryly. She wasn’t amazing at all. Having been with Yan Heng for three years, she naturally knew his tastes. He was a food lover but extremely particular. She had once cooked for him—how could she not know his likes and dislikes?
A bitter, spicy taste lingered in her mouth, perhaps from patchouli. She drank a lot of water but still felt the pungent bitterness.
At noon, when Yan Heng went to dine, he found the hotel’s meal perfectly suited to his tastes and praised Xu Xiangya. Embarrassed, she explained, “Mr. Yan, it’s all thanks to Manager Shen from the Housekeeping Department. You should thank her!”Putting down his chopsticks, Yan Heng froze. Indeed, in this world, who else besides his mother understood his tastes so well? He was extremely picky about food, yet Shen Xifan had patiently cooked for him all the same. When he didn't like her dishes, she never complained, always blaming her own lack of culinary skills. But why had it taken him so long after leaving her to realize just how good she was?
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