Shen Jiang had genuinely been worried about how to get home.
After all, she had neither her phone nor money with her—only a bundle of fresh medicinal herbs cradled in her arms.
Given her walking speed and current gear, it was uncertain whether she could even make it out of these mountains.
As the saying goes, “The mountain seems close, but the horse dies running.” Though the mountains appeared nearby, Shen Jiang had walked for nearly an hour without even reaching the mountainside.
However, just as the golden sunset lingered briefly at the horizon, thick clouds crowding around the setting sun and dyeing the sky in vast, magnificent shades of gold and crimson, the intricately carved Golden Gate shimmered into view before her.
The familiar soft light enveloped her once more, and before Shen Jiang could mentally prepare herself, she was spat back into Mingxintang.
Even with only a sliver of light in the room, she could recognize this place with her eyes closed. The traditional medicine cabinets were plastered with handwritten white labels, and the familiar outline of the transparent glass counter held the precious herbs like ginseng that she and Grandma had selected together…
Shen Jiang stood frozen in place, seemingly unable to believe she had returned just like that.
Her phone screen lit up on the table. Reaching for it, she realized she was still clutching the bundle of herbs.
The phone displayed the time: 5:00 AM, May 16, 2135. Shen Jiang remembered returning home on the evening of the 15th, meaning only a few hours had passed here during her time in the different world.
“Thank goodness,” Shen Jiang breathed a slow sigh of relief. Her biggest fear had been returning to a clichéd story where everything had changed. Fortunately, life here was normal, and she had only been gone a few hours.
If she hadn’t been able to return normally, Shen Jiang couldn’t imagine what would have happened to Grandma, forced to cut off her medical expenses.
To outsiders, running a traditional medicine clinic like theirs shouldn’t have left them with only a few hundred thousand in savings. Though she and Grandma usually lived frugally, almost all their money was tied up in medicinal herbs. Grandma never hesitated to buy high-quality herbs whenever she encountered them, stockpiling them in the clinic.
Over time, their bank balance dwindled, while the variety of herbs in the clinic grew richer.
Her phone interface was flooded with missed calls and messages.
Unlocking it, Shen Jiang first checked the missed calls—a long list of unfamiliar numbers, though one from 22:45 was from Officer Zhang at the local police station.
Had the middle-aged man causing the medical dispute been found by the police?
Officer Zhang calling so late must mean something important had happened. After a moment’s thought, Shen Jiang sent a text message.
At this awkward hour, Officer Zhang was surely asleep, but he would call back as soon as he saw the message.
Shen Jiang gazed at the clinic before her. She had only cleaned a small part yesterday, and the place was still a mess.
Her original plan had been to clean it up thoroughly before handing it over to someone else, but with her hands swollen like pig’s trotters and stinging at the slightest touch, she wouldn’t be able to finish the cleaning anytime soon.
Thinking of the buyer, Shen Jiang felt a sudden headache.
According to the agent’s description, this buyer was a foolish spender with more money than sense. Given Mingxintang’s location and the current market conditions, if they missed this big fish, they would never get such a high price again.
The so-called “foolish spender” had a terrible temper and always spoke with an inexplicable sense of superiority.
Shen Jiang could already imagine how the buyer would pinch their nose and frown upon entering Mingxintang, criticizing every aspect of the place she had called home since childhood.
That was a scene Shen Jiang absolutely did not want to witness.
But if they postponed signing the contract by even a day, given the buyer’s attitude on the phone, they would likely turn to another property. After all, there were plenty of shops on this street eager to sell.
The structure of their street was quite unique. Due to renovations of old houses from two centuries ago, the buildings along the street retained the traditional Jiangnan courtyard style. Each household had its own standalone building, with a shopfront at the front and a courtyard with separate living quarters at the back. Some chose to expand their shopfronts using the rear space, while Shen Jiang’s family used it as their residence.
In the past, this area was a bustling spot in the Old Town District, offering everything from dining to shopping. Even street vendors would fight over a prime spot.
But that was before Shen Jiang turned ten.
Now, the street’s market value was nowhere near what it used to be. Over the years, as the city expanded eastward, this street had gradually been pushed to the urban periphery.
Not only had most of the long-term residents moved away, but many businesses had also followed the trends and relocated to the bustling new districts. Instead, an increasing number of migrant workers had chosen to rent here. Though it was farther from the city center, the affordable prices made it worthwhile.
Many shops stood vacant, with “For Rent” signs plastered on their windows—some even had “For Sale” notices.
These days, the street was filled with unfamiliar faces.
Mingxintang was the exception. Grandma had never considered moving; relocating was too much trouble for her.
She would say, “It makes no difference where we run the shop,” and “We shouldn’t make our regular patients struggle to find us.”
If it weren’t for the centuries-old former residence of a famous historical figure nearby, the property prices on this street would have plummeted even further.
Though it was called a “former residence,” it hardly attracted any tourists.
Shen Jiang had never worried about money over the years. Her hobbies were few, and collecting ancient medical texts was her most expensive indulgence—yet even that didn’t cost much. Compared to her classmates, who spent fortunes on celebrity merchandise, clothes, and jewelry, her expenses were remarkably modest.
During her years studying out of town, the allowance Grandma gave her was more than enough. Combined with her scholarships, she had even managed to save a considerable sum.
Now, though, Shen Jiang smiled bitterly—she had barely over thirty thousand yuan left.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t considered selling the shop’s medicinal herbs to ease her financial strain.
The troublemaker had ruined most of the valuable herbs in the shop. Mixed with shards of broken glass, they were rendered unusable, wasting precious ingredients.
That was precisely why Grandma had rushed to stop the man… At the thought, Shen Jiang’s eyes darkened.
As originally scheduled, the agent was supposed to bring the buyer to sign the contract today.
Shen Jiang now faced only two choices: either clean up the place before the buyer arrived, or brace herself for the buyer’s critical and mocking remarks about the state of things.
Cleaning was beyond her current physical capacity, yet she didn’t want to miss out on this generous buyer either.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the medicinal herbs she had gathered from outside the Dragon lair. They lay quietly on the clinic’s rustic wooden table, showing no trace of anything extraordinary.
Yet, these treasures were the spoils of her bizarre encounter.
Even without that experience, they were special in their own right. It had been a long time since Shen Jiang had seen medicinal herbs of such quality. Even compared to standard Authentic medicinal materials, they were in no way inferior. In fact, these were the finest medicinal herbs Shen Jiang had ever encountered in her dealings with traditional Chinese medicine.
A thought crossed Shen Jiang’s mind: How effective were these herbs?
Coincidentally, her hands were swollen like pig’s trotters and needed attention—and among these herbs were some that could be put to use.
She decided to treat her hands first before tackling the cleaning.
Without hesitation, Shen Jiang picked out a perfectly intact Sanqi plant from the pile of herbs.
Sanqi could be used both internally and externally. Applying Sanqi powder directly to wounds could stop bleeding, disperse blood stasis, reduce swelling, and relieve pain. The Sanqi she had on hand hadn’t been dried yet, so grinding it into powder wasn’t an option, but Shen Jiang wasn’t concerned.
In fact, most people believed that medicinal herbs needed to be processed before use. However, Shen Jiang had studied numerous ancient medical texts and knew that the original purpose of processing was to facilitate storage. Over time, through prolonged use and evolution, ancient practitioners of traditional Chinese medicine discovered that different processing methods could alter the pharmacological effects of the herbs.
Fresh Sanqi, shortly after being harvested, contained certain components that were absent in sun-dried Sanqi.
Every part of the Sanqi plant was valuable. While its roots and rhizomes had the strongest medicinal effects, its flowers and leaves also held therapeutic properties. With the high cost of medicinal materials on the market, Shen Jiang, having learned from Grandma to make the most of everything, had brought back the entire plant.
Gritting her teeth, Shen Jiang first gave her hands a simple disinfection and cleaning, put on gloves, and used a grinder to crush the washed Sanqi roots and rhizomes. The Sanqi contained plenty of moisture, so the resulting herbal paste didn’t need to be mixed with water—it could be applied directly to the wounds.
As the herbal paste touched her palms, a cool, soothing sensation washed over her, and Shen Jiang let out a long, relieved sigh.
Drowsiness crept in, and Shen Jiang couldn’t help but close her eyes. She hadn’t slept at all the previous night and had spent most of the day working outside the Dragon lair. Only now, as she fully relaxed, did she feel utterly exhausted.
Shen Jiang summoned Siri, set an alarm for seven in the morning, and fell asleep on the bed without even taking off her clothes. Both palms were covered with a thick layer of the herbal paste, placed upward on her stomach, and she slept soundly until dawn.
When the alarm rang, Shen Jiang was pulled back to reality from her dreams.
Bleary-eyed, she opened her eyes, her mind still lingering in the haze of the dream. She had just experienced an utterly bewildering dream, one in which the fates of both her and Grandma were so tragic that she now found herself teetering on the edge of overwhelming sorrow and anger.
Perhaps it was a case of “day’s thoughts, night’s dreams”—she had dreamed of the future after Grandma fell into a coma.
In the dream, the outcome concerning them could not simply be described as bad—to be precise, it was nothing short of tragic.
Shen Jiang wanted to rub her eyes, to pull herself out of that chaotic nightmare.
Dreams are the opposite of reality, Shen Jiang comforted herself. Perhaps tomorrow, Grandma would be transferred from the ICU to a regular ward and recover smoothly.
As she raised her hand, a dry, crumpled object plopped onto her chest.