2: Recipe for contraceptives pills
The sudden rain finally ceased, and the mist lingering over the mountains grew thicker.
Although the thatched cottage belonged to Xinghua Village, it was located some distance from the main settlement. Thus, as dusk approached, the sounds of villagers coming and going were hardly heard; only the gurgling of the stream and the chirping of mountain birds filled the air.
Though the mud-walled, thatched cottage was small, it was well-equipped.
The main hall served as a medicine clinic, flanked by a bathing room, a kitchen, a room for decocting medicines, as well as a parlor and two side rooms for living quarters.
It embodied the spirit of a humble abode made noble by the virtue of its inhabitant—a place of quiet seclusion.
After Sun Ye and the two medicine apprentices returned, they naturally received a thorough scolding from Ruan An. Now, the young apprentices were copying medical texts in their room.
Sun Ye, who was more skilled in surgical techniques, had taken over from Ruan An, continuing to stitch up the wounds of the unconscious Huo Pingxiao.
The casement window in the parlor was open, and the rain stains on the blue stone floor had yet to dry. Sun Ye’s gaze casually fell on the unstrapped belted waist adorned with dangling straps lying not far away on the floor.
Taking a closer look, Sun Ye let out a low whistle, thoroughly impressed.
This belt was truly magnificent even its buckle was crafted from gold and jade!
Sun Ye mused over the market value of such a belt. If pawned, it would fetch enough silver to buy three cottages like this one.
But this military officer had sustained an arm injury—why had Ruan An taken off his belt?
Sun Ye suddenly remembered that when he had returned earlier, Ruan An seemed to have changed her clothes.
That morning, when she had gone down to Qingquan Town, she had been wearing an off-white plain cotton blouse and skirt.
So why had she changed into a navy blue jacket after coming back?
Sun Ye couldn’t figure out the reason and decided not to dwell on it.
Either way, he needed to finish stitching up this officer’s wounds quickly, so that Ruan An might reduce the number of medical texts she would make him copy.
Meanwhile, Ruan An was alone in the kitchen, her slender hands tightly clutching the crumpled, off-white blouse and skirt, her face pale.
When she spread it out, it was clear the garment was beyond salvage.
The pleated skirt was stained with scattered drops of blood and other fluids, while the fitted top, which had been cinched at the waist, had been easily torn apart by the man like shredding paper.
Even with one arm, Huo Pingxiao possessed astonishing strength.
Ruan An threw the blouse and skirt into the blazing firewood, then mixed a dose of the contraceptive pills she had formulated with plain water and drank it. The sticky, uncomfortable sensation below had not subsided, and her thoughts remained in disarray.
She tried to piece together what had happened before she lost consciousness—
An hour earlier, Huo Pingxiao had accidentally shattered the only medicine-feeding device.
Ruan An was afraid of wasting the last of the anesthetic decoction because even when she tried to feed it to him using a specialized tool, he would cough the liquid out, and ordinary spoons were useless.
The rain was still pouring at the time, and Sun Ye and the medicine apprentices had not yet returned.
In her desperation, Ruan An recalled a method taught to her by the renowned physician Sun, which she had once used to save a woman who had hanged herself.
The technique involved first blowing into the patient’s ear with a bamboo tube, then pressing both sides of the chest with hands. If that failed, the next step was to use mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to transfer vital energy.
Given the urgency of saving a life, Ruan An set aside concerns about the impropriety between a man and a woman and prepared to administer the anesthetic decoction mouth-to-mouth to Huo Pingxiao.
After swallowing the anesthetic decoction, she noticed that Huo Pingxiao’s expression seemed unusual, prompting her to take his pulse again.
The man had been drugged with a potent aphrodisiac.
He had previously tried to suppress the effects with his internal energy, but the ginseng decoction she had given him earlier had instead accelerated the drug’s potency.
A misstep—Ruan An had never anticipated that she would mistakenly swallow the anesthetic decoction she had been holding in her mouth.
The datura in that anesthetic decoction could act as an aphrodisiac or a hallucinogen, depending on the individual’s constitution.
What happened afterward, Ruan An could no longer clearly recall.
But one thing she was certain of made her heart plummet—
She had likely lost her virginity.
Chang’an City, Taixing Palace.
The emperor stood on the terrace of the Chengtian Gate, the grand and orderly palaces behind him as he gazed down upon the imperial capital at night.
Inside the Vermilion Bird Gate, the Heavenly Street stretched wide; when viewed during the day, one could glimpse the locust and poplar trees lining it, as well as the imperial drainage moats.
The Three Departments and Six Ministries, the Court of State Ceremonials, the Imperial Ancestral Temple, and even the central government offices such as the Eastern Palace court were all located here.
Looking further into the distance were the Shanhe and Xingdao wards, where the common people resided.
Moonlight draped like silk, spring breezes brushed the balustrades.
The emperor’s expression was solemn as the head eunuch’s sharp voice suddenly sounded beside him—
“Prime Minister Huo Lang has arrived!”
As the words fell, the emperor turned at the sound. Palace attendants were pushing Huo Lang’s wheelchair toward him.
Huo Lang had limited mobility in his legs, so many white marble ramps had been constructed in the outer court for his convenience.
He was also the only minister in the entire court who was not required to kneel before the emperor.
Huo Lang’s hands rested loosely on the nanmu armrests of his wheelchair. In the deepening night, wrinkles marked the corners of his deep-set eyes, and his gaze carried the predatory shrewdness of a wolf eyeing its prey.
“Your subject’s legs are not functional; I hope Your Majesty will forgive me,” he said.
The emperor’s demeanor was amiable as he waved his hand and replied, “Zhongxun was ambushed in Jiazhou and is now missing. I have already dispatched a hundred elite guards from the Northern Bureau to search for him. You, Prime Minister, should also try to set your mind at ease.”
Zhongxun was the courtesy name of Huo Lang’s eldest son, Huo Pingxiao.
Huo Lang replied calmly, “My son is young and impetuous; it is inevitable that he may have been careless. I appreciate Your Majesty’s concern.”
The head eunuch, standing to one side with a horsetail whisk in hand, blinked discreetly.
His Majesty was clearly frantic, yet Huo Lang showed no sign of worry. How could he remain so composed when his only son from his first wife was missing and his fate unknown?
The news of Huo Pingxiao’s disappearance had been suppressed by the emperor, known only to a few high-ranking ministers and this close eunuch attendant.
Now, the Huo family stood at the forefront of the three most powerful noble houses in the land, enjoying the glory of holding two marquisates within a single clan.
Huo Lang’s father had been a founding marquis, and Huo Lang later inherited the title. During the previous dynasty’s struggle for succession, he had played a pivotal role in supporting the current emperor to ascend the throne.
After the emperor’s coronation, Huo Lang was appointed prime minister.
As prime minister, he presided over the entire bureaucracy, holding the reins of state affairs with authority that extended across all domains—truly a figure whose power reached the pinnacle of the court.
An emperor’s feelings toward a powerful minister are always complex. While the emperor harbored a certain wariness toward Huo Lang, he also knew that without him, the Great Li would face tremendous upheaval.
The head eunuch had served the emperor since childhood and knew well Huo Lang’s formidable skills. Though a subject, Huo Lang was remarkably adept at guiding the emperor’s hand.
In the past, he had allowed the emperor to act on his own, yet he could anticipate the mistakes the emperor would make.
Huo Lang would deliberately let things unfold, and when the emperor inevitably caused minor troubles due to his mediocre abilities, Huo Lang would step in promptly to resolve them.
Over time, the emperor developed a deep sense of reliance on Huo Lang. Whenever he faced a decision he was uncertain about, he would invariably seek the prime minister’s counsel.
As the saying goes: a tiger does not beget a dog.
Huo Lang’s son, Huo Pingxiao, naturally surpassed his father.
As the legitimate eldest son, he was destined to inherit Huo Lang’s marquisate.
Yet at just nineteen, he was granted a fief and bestowed a title based on his own military achievements. Before even reaching the age of capping, he had already become the renowned Marquis of Dingbei.
Huo Pingxiao was an exceptional warrior, highly respected and supported by generals and soldiers alike. A valiant and fearless young prodigy, holding the banner to command the three armies, he could pacify the nine provinces and shake the very foundations of the Great Li.
Such a commandery marquis with military power would ordinarily have made the emperor even more wary.
But in recent years, the Great Li faced internal and external troubles—rival states lurking beyond its borders and separatist forces within.
The emperor could not afford to lose Huo Lang, nor could he afford to lose a valiant general like Huo Pingxiao.
Though the kingdom was not at war that year, the Turkic forces in the north posed a constant threat, and banditry was rampant in Jiazhou, Jiannan Circuit.
As the military governor of Jiannan Circuit, Huo Pingxiao had been ordered by the emperor to quell the banditry before returning his troops to the capital.
Unexpectedly, Huo Pingxiao had suddenly gone missing without a trace.
A few days earlier, Turkic cavalry had begun frequently raiding the Guanzhong region. If those barbarians learned that the great warrior of Li had disappeared, they would surely consider invading.
If they crossed Shuofang and broke through Ning and Bin prefectures, Chang’an would be in grave danger. The forces in the capital circuit would not hold out for long.
In the past few days, the emperor had not slept a single peaceful night.
The ruler and his minister exchanged a few more words before the emperor watched as the palace attendants wheeled Huo Lang’s chair away.
The head eunuch advised, “Your Majesty, it is time for you to return to your palace and rest.”
The emperor frowned deeply and did not reply.
Just then, tens of thousands of sky lanterns suddenly rose into the sky on the horizon.
In an instant, the night over Chang’an blazed bright as if a vast galaxy had descended—a scene dreamlike and surreal.
The emperor looked up, the brilliant lights reflecting in his eyes. His voice deepened: “Who leaked the news of the Marquis of Dingbei’s disappearance?”
The head eunuch quickly lowered his gaze and replied respectfully, “This servant does not know. If Your Majesty disapproves of these lanterns, the street patrols can be ordered to stop them.”
“Forget it. This news could not be kept hidden for long anyway.”
The emperor, dressed in his crimson ceremonial robes, flicked his magnificent wide sleeves and walked toward the covered walkway with a grave expression.
The head eunuch flicked his horsetail whisk and ordered the imperial guard and attendants to quickly follow.
Whenever the Marquis of Dingbei went into battle, countless young women would grandly release sky lanterns together, praying for his safety.
However, with the dream lover of all Chang’an’s maidens missing and his fate unknown, at least the lantern makers and sellers were reaping the benefits.
Three days later, Xinghua Village enjoyed clear skies.
Sun Ye decided to test the medicine apprentices on their studies and spontaneously quizzed them on a few prescriptions.
“Two parts each of cork-tree bark, amethyst, and eggplant flower; one part oleander; seven parts bupleurum; three grams of galangal…”
“Wait!”
Sun Ye suddenly interrupted. “What in the world are you reciting?”
The young female apprentice replied timidly, “The recipe for contraceptive pills.”
Sun Ye frowned, then, with the air of a little adult, commanded, “Continue reciting.”
The young apprentice pouted and continued, “Two almonds, a bit of cinnamon, seven white mallow flowers…”
Sun Ye’s expression grew increasingly sour. “This isn’t a contraceptive pill formula at all!”
The two apprentices froze, their mouths slightly agape.
“The first part of the formula was correct, but the later part… How did you confuse the Danggui Fuzi Decoction with the Tiaojing Buzhen Decoction?”
A hint of panic crept into Sun Ye’s still-unbroken, youthful voice, which now carried a sobbing tone.
Mistakenly reciting a formula was a minor issue, but the problem was that the contraceptive pills Ruan An had recently instructed him to formulate, Sun Ye had delegated to the two apprentices.
He had thought they had memorized the formula perfectly. He never expected such a mistake to happen. Ruan An had planned to sell these pills during the Dragon Boat Festival.
Sun Ye sighed. His only option now was to destroy the prepared pills and pay for new ingredients out of his own pocket.
This way, as long as he could complete the new batch before the festival, Ruan An would never notice anything amiss.
At noon, Ruan An returned from washing clothes by the stream, catching the sounds of children laughing inside the cottage.
She walked toward her apprentices, carrying a wooden basin, and scolded with feigned severity: “The three of you are slacking off again? Haven’t you copied enough medical texts?”
As she spoke, Ruan An’s almond-shaped eyes widened and her cheeks puffed up slightly.
The young woman’s fair face naturally bore a faint rosy hue, and her thick, curled eyelashes fluttered with her expression. Far from fierce, she looked charmingly naive.
Her appearance was gentle, her anger seeming more like a playful pout. Besides, she was only a few years older than them—still a young woman in her teens and carried little authority.
Sun Ye was not truly afraid of Ruan An, but he knew they should not have secretly gone to the town market that day.
Ruan An had been genuinely angry this time.
He lowered his head and apologized in a small voice: “Aunt Ruan, we know we were wrong.”
Sun Ye deliberately addressed her respectfully as “Aunt Ruan,” hoping to appease her.
But Ruan An was about to seize the opportunity to admonish Sun Ye further when she suddenly felt that something in the atmosphere was amiss. The children had also fallen silent.
Startled, she turned to find Huo Pingxiao already walking toward her. His tall figure, along with the warm sunlight from outside, cast a shadow across the blue stone floor, overlapping with her petite silhouette, almost enveloping it.
The man had just regained consciousness. His thick, dark lashes were half-lowered, veiling his lazy gaze, while his faintly pursed lips gave him a cold and indifferent air. He lowered his head and silently examined his left arm, now wrapped in bandages.
He resembled a dangerous lone wolf—quiet and still, yet surveying his territory.
Sun Ye discreetly studied Huo Pingxiao. The man’s dark military attire had been replaced with the simplest of village garments: a coarse hemp robe with a crossed collar wrapping to the right, paired with matching trousers.
On his feet, he still wore the same black boots from before. His waist should have been wrapped with a simple dark brown cloth belt, but instead, it was incongruously adorned with an ornate leather belt with dangling straps.
Sun Ye had secretly tried it on earlier, but after Ruan An caught him, she had glared at him until he returned the belt to Huo Pingxiao’s side.
Even in such plain clothing, the man’s broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, and tall, commanding figure could not be concealed.
Yet Sun Ye couldn’t help but feel an odd urge to laugh.
Just then, Huo Pingxiao turned his head to look at him.
The man’s jawline was sharp and distinct, the long scar on the side of his neck resembling a fierce dragon. Though his gaze was calm and unruffled, he exuded the commanding presence of a general, an overwhelming sense of authority.
Although Sun Ye was mischievous, he was still a child. Intimidated by the man’s sharp aura, he immediately stifled his laughter.
Huo Pingxiao spoke in a low, calm voice: “Did you change my clothes?”
Sun Ye nodded like a pecking chicken.
“Thanks.”
The man lifted his gaze, the deep folds of his eyelids accentuated, and let out a soft, self-mocking chuckle. “Fits well enough.”
Though he said it fit, the top was noticeably tight, hinting at the strong, taut lines of muscle beneath.
Ruan An held her breath, carefully observing Huo Pingxiao’s movements and expression. She saw him bend his fingers slightly, pull the leather pouch from his belt with one hand, and take a few steps toward her.
The height difference between them was striking. When he stopped, Ruan An tilted her small face upward, her almond-shaped eyes full of bewilderment, like a startled rabbit.
Huo Pingxiao looked down at her.
Assuming the young mountain girl was simply shy, he softened his tone and said quietly, “Hold out your hand.”
Ruan An’s eyelashes fluttered, and she did as he asked.
Huo Pingxiao raised his wrist, stopping just inches above her palm.
The man’s hand was large, with well-proportioned, slender fingers and several prominent veins on the back, exuding a sense of strength.
“There are ten taels of silver here.”
He opened his fingers, and the weighty leather pouch dropped into Ruan An’s soft palm with his low voice. The coarse texture of the pouch still carried the warmth of his body.
“After I leave, I’ll have someone send the remaining payment as soon as possible.”
Hearing this, Ruan An understood his intention. She looked up and asked in disbelief, “You’re leaving now?”
Combined with her observations of him just moments ago, Ruan An suspected that Huo Pingxiao did not remember what had happened that day.
Over the past few days, she had fed him some congee and tried to subtly inquire about how he had ended up in such a state.
But Huo Pingxiao remained tight-lipped about it. Ruan An had also not mentioned the aphrodisiac.
Now that he had regained his strength, if he wanted to leave, she could not stop him. However, his arm was still not fully healed, and she worried he might not receive proper medical care on the road.
Moreover, she had been hesitating about whether to bring up that unspeakable matter with him.
Ruan An’s lips parted and closed again as she tried to find words to make him stay. Just then, the faint sound of festive music drifted in from a distance—
The sound grew closer and closer to the cottage: the clamor of drums and cymbals, the piercing wail of suona horns, disturbing the tranquil mountain air with their raucous noise.
Stepping outside, Ruan An saw Advisor Liu walking ahead with a beaming smile, followed by a small two-person sedan chair.
Counting the sedan bearers and the musicians, there were seven people in total.
Recalling her previous interactions with Advisor Liu, Ruan An sensed trouble brewing.
She immediately signaled to Sun Ye with a glance, motioning for him to quickly lead the two young apprentices into the cottage.
Advisor Liu’s eyes held a trace of mockery as he sneered, “Miss Ruan, what are you waiting for? Don’t miss the auspicious hour. Our young master is waiting to consummate the marriage with you.”
Ruan An’s face flushed crimson at the word “consummate.” Embarrassed and indignant, she retorted, “What nonsense are you talking about? When did I ever get engaged to your young master?”
Advisor Liu was in no hurry to unleash his threats. Instead, his gaze was involuntarily drawn to Huo Pingxiao, who stood beside her.
Noting his imposing appearance and stature, he seemed like a martial man, yet one of his arms was injured.
But the way he looked at them was cold and piercing, even carrying a hint of disdain.
Too arrogant, too insolent.
Advisor Liu narrowed his eyes.
Could this fellow be the village wench Ruan’s lover?
Within a hundred li of here, who didn’t know that he, Advisor Liu, was the county magistrate’s most trusted clerk? Everyone treated him with courtesy.
What right did this fellow have to look at him like that?
Advisor Liu let out a cold snort and decided to teach Huo Pingxiao a lesson.
After all, the man had an injured arm, and they had seven people here. Dealing with a cripple like him would be more than easy.
**