Some people go unnoticed, but once they catch your attention, everything about them suddenly seems different.
Gu Ce’an had never realized before just how often he encountered this cousin of his.
After paying his respects in the morning, he would see Song Zhiwei arrive as he left his grandmother’s courtyard. She dressed very simply. She never wore heavy or expensive jewelry, and her clothes were always slightly old rather than new, though they were invariably well-fitted. Whenever she saw him, she offered a courteous curtsy and said only what was necessary.
The next day, he deliberately went earlier. Unexpectedly, Song Zhiwei arrived at the same time. She greeted him politely and, even as they waited together, made no effort to start a conversation. Instead, she occupied herself with handiwork.
After seeing it several times, Gu Ce’an noticed that she sometimes sewed forehead bands, sometimes socks, and sometimes handkerchiefs. Occasionally, when he visited his mother’s courtyard, he would find Song Zhiwei and Gu Chunran there together, learning household management and accounting under his mother’s guidance. Every time, she studied with complete concentration. One only had to look at her expression to see how seriously she applied herself.
One day, after they finished practicing their writing, some sheets of paper lay on the table. At the same time, a steward’s wife was checking accounts and inventory with Madam Zhao.
Having nothing better to do, Gu Ce’an wandered over and glanced at the papers. What he found was a remarkably beautiful hand. Such handwriting could not have been produced without years of painstaking practice. The script was elegant, unlike any style he had seen before.
As he examined it closely, Madam Zhao happened to notice. When she asked about it, he simply replied honestly, “Her handwriting is very good.”
Madam Zhao said nothing further.
Another day, when Gu Ce’an returned from the Jinyi Guard offices, he overheard people in the courtyard discussing how the wife of the Minister of Personnel had come to deliver gifts that day.
The gifts were intended to thank Miss Song for saving the minister’s daughter. There had been quite a lot of gifts.
Miss Song had apparently been very generous. She had taken some of them and instructed the main kitchen to buy more rice, vegetables, and ingredients so everyone could enjoy extra dishes that evening.
Gu Ce’an paid little attention at the time. But later that night, after leaving his study and stopping by to pay his respects to his mother, he overheard her speaking with a steward’s wife.
“She wants me to use those gifts to buy her a shop,” Madam Zhao was saying. “She wants to try managing a business herself and insists that if it loses money, the manor isn’t to bear the responsibility.”
“At first I thought it somewhat inappropriate. But then she explained that she wants to open an apothecary. Since it’s a charitable and beneficial endeavor that could bring blessings to the family, and considering how your master once served on the battlefield, I began to think it might not be a bad idea after all. Even if it fails, it won’t amount to much.”
“Still, using only the value of those gifts seems unnecessary. The family treasury can easily afford the expense. If she truly earns anything from it, we can simply add it to her dowry later. Tell your husband to look around outside and find a suitable storefront. Then purchase a few capable workers as well.”
The steward’s wife agreed.
Just then, a deep male voice sounded from the doorway. The eldest young master had returned.
“If she said she wants to use the gifts, then the gifts should pay for it,” Gu Ce’an said. “If public family funds are used instead, the accounts become unclear. There are so many daughters and young ladies in the household. The problem isn’t scarcity; it’s unequal treatment. It would only invite unnecessary gossip later.”
“Since the shop would be bought with her own money, then when she marries in the future, she can simply take it with her as her personal property.”
The moment he said this, Madam Zhao gave Gu Ce’an a rather strange look. She seemed to think of something, but in the end she still nodded.
“Very well, let it be done that way. Have all those gifts appraised and converted into their monetary value. Calculate everything carefully and bring me an account of it tomorrow.”
The steward’s wife promptly agreed, bowed to Gu Ce’an, and withdrew.
After taking a sip of tea, Madam Zhao suddenly said, “I recently met with your eldest aunt. She mentioned that she’s been looking at prospective matches for Yue’er these past few days. What are your thoughts on the matter?”
The question was direct. Gu Ce’an’s rejection was even more direct. “I have always regarded Sister Meng as a real younger sister.”
Madam Zhao’s expression immediately became more complicated. “Then do you already have someone else in mind? Let me tell you this right now: don’t even think about it. The family will never agree.”
Gu Ce’an frowned. “And why would they not agree?”
A good man should establish his career before starting a family. Autumn was fast approaching again, and the court’s political situation remained unstable. To the north, the nomadic raiders continued their provocations and incursions. Whether this year or next, a bloody war seemed inevitable. War admits no mercy. When swords and arrows fly, no one can guarantee survival. Of all the men in the household, no one knew how many would return alive.
Gu Ce’an had no wish to delay another person’s future because of his own uncertain fate, and so he had no intention of becoming engaged at present.
Madam Zhao rubbed her forehead. As expected, things were exactly as she had suspected. But now was not the time to expose the matter. She knew her son better than anyone. Once he truly set his heart on something, his stubbornness knew no bounds. At the moment, he might only be experiencing the first stirrings of interest. If she pointed it out directly, he might become convinced that Song Zhiwei was the only woman for him. That would only make matters worse.
Frowning, Madam Zhao thought to herself that she needed to arrange a match for Song Zhiwei as soon as possible. The challenge was finding a suitable family in the capital. The match couldn’t be too low or too high. After all, it had to fit her status.
“Enough. All you ever do is give me headaches.” Sighing, Madam Zhao dropped the subject of marriage altogether.
While mother and son enjoyed their family conversation, good news arrived at Song Zhiwei’s little courtyard.
Zhuxiang excitedly reported that Eldest Madam had already sent people to look for a suitable storefront.
Both Zhuxiang and Lancao were thrilled.
At first, when Song Zhiwei spoke of opening a shop, neither maid had paid much attention to the idea. Only when Song Zhiwei announced she intended to make them the shop’s bookkeepers, and that they would receive additional monthly wages on top of their regular allowances, did they take the project seriously.
As for Song Zhiwei, she had long since decided what kind of business she wanted to run. Naturally, it would be a medicine business. She truly came from a family with a tradition of medical learning.
Growing up surrounded by it in her previous life, Song Zhiwei had memorized countless prescriptions and personally prepared medicines. Whether they were for beauty, health maintenance, or treating illness and saving lives, she remembered them in great detail. As long as she had access to the necessary ingredients, she was confident she could reproduce them.
Over the past few days, she had also asked people to purchase many ready-made pills, ointments, and medicinal preparations from pharmacies around the city for her to examine.
After inspecting them, she found the manufacturing methods nothing particularly remarkable. Some worked very well, while others were practically useless.
Since that was the case, opening a patent-medicine shop based on some of the standardized traditional formulas commonly used in her previous era should not pose much of a problem. She already had a rough plan.
First, she would produce a large batch of deworming medicine and distribute it free of charge during the shop’s opening period. Then, once production became more standardized, she intended to try creating the kinds of medicines that almost every transmigrator dreamed of introducing to the past. Penicillin that could be extracted through rudimentary methods. Allicin, terramycin, sulfonamides, alcohol, iodine disinfectant, and similar remedies. None of these projects could be rushed.
For some medicines, she remembered the general production principles. For others, she would have to rely on endless experimentation. She had no idea what she might ultimately leave behind for this era by the end of her life. But one thing she knew for certain: She would not have come here for nothing.
Lifting her head, Song Zhiwei gazed out from the small courtyard enclosed by its four walls. In her eyes burned ambition and something wild. If she were forced to live this kind of powerless life forever, she did not know how long she could endure it.
Nor did she know whether this era would, little by little, mold her into someone she would no longer recognize. While she still had room to maneuver, she wanted to leave herself an escape route. And the apothecary she was about to open would be exactly that: an opening, a way forward she had carved out for herself. Lost in thought, she saw Liu’er from Madam Wang’s courtyard approaching.
“Miss Song, my mistress requests your presence.”
At once, Song Zhiwei thought of the noblewoman from several days ago. She wondered whether the woman had been taking her medicine regularly.