“I wasn’t sold into the侯府 yet, but when I was at home, I learned a bit from my grandfather.”
Liu Wuyang was both modest and cautious.
“Just a bit, and you can already tell I’m sick?”
The guard looked doubtful, sizing Liu Wuyang up from head to toe.
Liu Wuyang remained calm and composed.
“Replying to you, sir, I only noticed that your complexion didn’t look well, so I speculated that you might have wasting-thirst.”
“The discomfort you described happens to match the symptoms of wasting-thirst, which is why I became more certain.”
“Of course, my knowledge is shallow. I’ve been confined to the inner quarters for years, and my medical skills are limited—I would not dare to diagnose you.”
“In another dozen or so li, we will reach the relay station. At that time, you may find a physician nearby to examine your pulse carefully.”
As someone trained in medicine, Liu Wuyang understood the principle that a doctor does not seek out patients uninvited.
After all, matters of life and health were not something to push forward recklessly.
Hearing her words, the guard felt somewhat awkward.
This young woman was quite perceptive.
She noticed his illness, yet didn’t eagerly recommend herself. Instead, she humbly admitted her limitations and even suggested he seek another doctor.
“Huzi, what’s going on?”
The guard leader, Zhang Sanlang, had already handed his horse to the tea stall attendant. Holding his whip, he patrolled the surroundings and happened to see the guard standing there in a daze.
This man’s name was Zhou Hu, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old. Those close to him called him “Huzi.”
Hearing his superior, Zhou Hu quickly replied, “Third Brother, this maid said I have wasting-thirst.”
“I heard that’s a rich man’s disease! We’re just lowly runners, nothing to do with wealth or status—how could I have it?”
Zhou Hu scratched his head, both confused and self-mocking.
Zhang Sanlang immediately turned his gaze to Liu Wuyang.
His eyes were sharp, cold as ice.
Zhou Hu was his brother-in-arms, working with him for nearly ten years—not blood, but closer than blood.
As the elder brother, Zhang Sanlang was used to looking after him.
“Are you certain? My brother has wasting-thirst?”
Zhang Sanlang was no ordinary guard. He had retired from the frontier army.
He had been to the battlefield, had killed before.
His presence alone could intimidate grown men, let alone women of the inner quarters.
Liu Wuyang gave a faint smile and spoke gently, “Based on this sir’s symptoms, I am seventy to eighty percent certain.”
“But as I said, my learning is shallow, and I dare not presume to diagnose.”
“You may wait until reaching the relay station, or the next town, and find a reputable physician for proper examination.”
She repeated her stance—she would not actively seek patients.
She would let them come to her.
After speaking, Liu Wuyang bent slightly in a respectful bow.
“You two officers are busy with official duties. I shall not disturb you further. I take my leave.”
Zhang Sanlang and Zhou Hu both watched her.
Under their focused gazes, Liu Wuyang still kept her back straight and walked away calmly.
“Third Brother, she… I… I…”
Zhou Hu didn’t know what to say.
Zhang Sanlang patted his shoulder. “No rush. Whether you’re sick or not, we’ll know once a proper doctor checks.”
“As for that woman…”
His voice trailed off.
He didn’t even know who she was.
Zhou Hu quickly added, “Third Brother, her name is Xiaocui. She should be Wang Yong’s concubine!”
“Hmm. Keep an eye on her from now on. I want to see how a mere concubine dares to play tricks in front of us.”
Like Zhou Hu, Zhang Sanlang didn’t believe Liu Wuyang could truly diagnose or treat illness.
They were more inclined to think she couldn’t endure the hardships of exile and was trying to deceive them.
Zhang Sanlang had escorted prisoners many times. He knew well that prisoners would resort to all kinds of tricks to improve their situation…
But pretending to be a doctor—this was the first time he had seen such a thing.
His interest was piqued. He wanted to see what other schemes Liu Wuyang might come up with.
Pretending not to notice the attention, Liu Wuyang packed up the wild vegetable buns, quickly ate one, then began searching through the grass by the roadside…
…
At the Duke’s residence.
The news that Wang Si had received a shop on East Street deeply provoked Zhao Yuan.
She wanted to replicate Wang Si’s success.
“Isn’t it just cooking? Isn’t it just making food? I can do that too!”
Muttering to herself, Zhao Yuan found an opportunity and slipped into the main kitchen.
It wasn’t mealtime yet. The cooks and maids appeared to be busy preparing ingredients, but were actually slacking off.
“Ninth Miss? What brings you here?”
A sharp-eyed cook had just been about to put down the vegetables and grab some tea when she noticed a slender figure entering.
Looking closely, it was the Ninth Miss of the second branch.
The second branch was of concubine birth, and the Second Master was an old dandy—nearly forty, yet achieving nothing, living off the Duke’s household.
Only because the Madam was kind, and for the sake of the Zhao bloodline, had they not been separated.
The entire second branch lacked ambition. Only Ninth Miss Zhao Yuan was somewhat clever.
Still, the servants with insight in the residence knew that her “favor” was largely due to her age.
Among her generation of sisters, most were already married, while the younger ones were still children.
At twelve or thirteen, Zhao Yuan had been the only young lady in that age group—
But that was in the past.
Now things were different. A cousin had arrived.
The Seventh Miss of the Wang family, brought back by the young lady, was just a year older than Zhao Yuan.
At the age of budding youth, and quite beautiful.
More importantly, she was blood-related to the Madam.
Sure enough, within just a couple of days, she had already received rewards from the Duke and his wife.
Even the Crown Prince’s wife, usually so strict, treated Haitang Courtyard with special regard.
Most of the servants in the Duke’s residence were born and raised there, generations serving the household. They were perceptive and shrewd.
With just a glance, they could understand their masters’ intentions.
And this time, it wasn’t even subtle—
The Duke and his wife, as well as the heir and his wife, had made it clear:
They valued the young lady and the cousin.
“Tsk, the most favored granddaughter by Madam is about to change!”
A granddaughter by blood or by marriage was still a granddaughter.
The plump cook showed no expression on her face, but inwardly, she was already pitying Zhao Yuan for losing favor.
She stood up attentively, wiping her wet hands on her apron as she approached.
“What instructions do you have, Ninth Miss?”
As soon as Zhao Yuan stepped into the kitchen, she was hit with the smell of firewood, oil smoke, and strong food ingredients.
As a pampered young lady of the Duke’s household, she rarely entered such a place.
She instinctively frowned and covered her nose with a handkerchief.