Warm my ass!
After saying he would consider it, Xie Yunjing finally shooed her out.
As Shen Taotao applied medicine to the bruise on Shen Dashan’s lower back, her thoughts drifted to Xie Yunjing’s pretentious demeanor. Unconsciously, she increased the pressure, causing Shen Dashan to jolt in pain.
“Ouch… take it easy, little sister!” Shen Dashan hissed through gritted teeth, sucking in sharp breaths. “Good grief, your hands are stronger than the bone-setting physicians in Jingcheng.”
Shen Ersao huddled in the haystack. Having been severely frightened during the day, she had developed a slight fever by evening. Her sallow face managed a weak smile. “Isn’t that the truth? Our Taotao is practically half a physician now!”
Her thin hand emerged from under the covers, icy fingertips brushing against the back of Shen Taotao’s hand. Her voice was faint and unsteady. “Back in Jingcheng, she was like a delicate flower untouched by hardship—even a minor bump would make her eyes well up. But ever since we ended up in this godforsaken place…” Her gaze swept across the windbreak cave, her bluish lips trembling. “Now she knows everything and can do anything.”
Shen Taotao’s hand tightened. Lowering her lashes, she slowly rubbed the ointment into the bruise. “Second Sister-in-law, stop teasing me! It’s all from… ahem… random books I picked up before.” She forced a dry laugh. “I just read them as stories—who knew they’d actually come in handy?”
“Exactly!” He Shi, seated by the haystack, slapped her thigh emphatically. “This girl’s been buried in books since she was little, ignoring needlework and embroidery, always hunting down those strange, useless old books!”
The flickering firelight danced across her careworn, wrinkled face, now glowing with a hint of pride. “I scolded her so many times for it. While other young ladies embroidered peonies, she’d be devouring some book about bugs in the soil.”
As she spoke, He Shi’s eyes reddened again. She sniffled and wiped away tears. “But who would’ve thought… Heaven has eyes! Those useless books turned out to be our lifeline. Taotao is our family’s lucky star.”
Shen Taotao let out a long breath, a puff of white mist dissipating the hidden panic within her.
“Creak—”
The makeshift door, pieced together from broken planks, was cautiously pushed open a crack. A biting wind rushed in, carrying flurries of snow.
Two figures shivered in the doorway.
Leading was Lu Taiyi from the neighboring hovel. His gaunt face was sunken and haggard, his frail frame wrapped in a patched-up old coat, its cuffs worn shiny. Behind him was his wife, her head and face shrouded in a thick, dusty cloth, revealing only a pair of bloodshot, fearful eyes. Her frostbitten hands clung desperately to her husband’s clothes.
Upon closer look, she was clutching a young child tightly in her arms.
The child, about three or four years old, had sparse, yellowish hair plastered against a small, thin forehead. His eyes were large but vacant and dull, his chapped lips slightly parted.
“Miss… Miss Shen…” Lu Taiyi’s voice was gravelly, as if ground by sand and stone, hoarse and strained.
He fumbled in his chest for a long while before pulling out a yellowed oilcloth bundle. His fingers, stiff from the cold, struggled to untie it, taking several attempts to finally open it.
Beneath the oilcloth lay a row of silver needles of varying lengths. Their surfaces were smooth, gleaming with a faint, cold light in the dimness—a rare touch of elegance in this bitter, desolate place.
He extended the needle case forward, his hand trembling slightly. “This… is our family’s livelihood… I… I wanted to ask the young lady… if we might use the well…” After speaking, he quickly lowered his gaze, his thin face flushed with deep embarrassment.
These silver needles were bestowed upon him by the Emperor during his service at the Taiyi Yuan, representing his final dignity and means of survival.
The Shen family fell silent, the crackling of charcoal unusually distinct in the stillness.
After the incident with Li Laizi during the day, the indifferent attitude of the other exiles had chilled Shen Taotao’s heart, leading her to forbid them from using the well.
She was no saint—she repaid kindness a hundredfold, but saw no need to care for those who treated her poorly.
He Shi looked at the gleaming silver needles, then at Lu Taiyi’s face, and finally at his wife and child behind him, shivering in their patched clothes, her eyes filling with pity.
She parted her lips but remained silent. The well belonged to Taotao; only she could decide.
Shen Taotao set down the medicine bottle and stood up, the glint of silver stinging her eyes.
Li Laizi had long bullied his way through the exile settlement, and the prisoners’ instinctive fear made self-preservation a natural choice. Besides, she remembered how Uncle Lu had steadied her second brother when he fell into the snowdrift and discreetly pressed acupoints to stop his bleeding.
She took a deep breath of the icy air, suppressing the lump in her throat. “Uncle Lu, please put these away. Your family may use the well. I should thank you for tending to my second brother’s bleeding today.”
Walking to the corner, she lifted a chipped ceramic bowl, took out a frozen pear, and went to the doorway, pressing it directly into Madam Lu’s hands. “Take this for the child.”
Madam Lu’s frostbitten hands clumsily caught the frozen pear, her fingertips aching from the cold. Tears welled instantly in her eyes.
“Thank… thank you, Miss Shen…” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Without hesitation, she retreated to the most sheltered corner, turning her back to the others. She glanced down at the listless child in her arms, then at the frozen pear in her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she quickly licked her chapped lips.
Then, carefully, she took a small bite, chewing it thoroughly and warming it in her mouth before gently prying open the child’s tightly sealed lips. Leaning down, she transferred the warmed food from her mouth to the child’s.
A faint, kitten-like whimper escaped the child’s throat, followed by an instinctive swallow.
She sighed in relief, immediately taking another bite of pear to repeat the process. Again and again, mouthful by mouthful. The child’s eyelids seemed to flutter weakly.
Shen Taotao stood a few steps away, quietly observing Madam Lu’s feeding method.
The child’s limp dependence during the feeding suggested far more than mere hunger or thirst.
Her gaze drifted over the child’s pale, bloodless neck, the sparse teeth nearly absent, the bare gums exposing pitiful pink buds—signs of severe malnutrition.
Yet in Ningguta, where frost could claim unborn children in the womb, this child’s survival past birth was itself a miracle. To have lived this long… was likely due to Physician Lu’s desperate skill in snatching life from the jaws of death.
Shen Taotao’s mind raced—in ancient times, even a common cold could be fatal. Securing the favor of a divine physician was absolutely essential, especially since the Shen family now had injuries and fevers aplenty.
The gravity on her face melted away, replaced by an almost abrupt enthusiasm: “Uncle Lu, since you’re already here, could we trouble you to examine our injuries?”
She briskly laid out a straw mat. “My eldest brother, second brother, and parents were all beaten,” she said, her gaze sweeping over Second Sister-in-law Shen curled up in the corner. “Second Sister-in-law also caught a chill—she’s been drowsy and complaining of cold. Could you please check her pulse?”
Lu Taiyi was taken aback. Not only had Shen Taotao refused his silver needles and given him frozen pears, but she now only asked him to tend to their wounds. Flustered, he repeatedly clasped his hands in deference.
But Shen Taotao brooked no argument, half-pulling and half-guiding the emaciated physician to sit on the straw mat.
The Shen family exchanged glances and quickly gathered around in cooperation.
The flame of a broken oil lamp flickered unsteadily in the cold wind, casting frantic, yellowish shadows on the walls of the windbreak cave.
Lu Taiyi sat on the straw mat Shen Taotao had specially covered with a piece of hemp cloth, his fingers resting on Shen Dashan’s frozen, red, and swollen joints. He closed his eyes, concentrating.
He Shi clutched the hem of her clothes, watching nervously.
After a moment, Lu Taiyi opened his eyes and withdrew his hand. “An old affliction of wind-cold-damp obstruction. The cold has deeply invaded the bones and sinews. Applying medicine externally to draw out the damp cold will suffice.” His voice steadied as he motioned for Shen Dashan to lie down, carefully pressing the swollen, purplish bruise on his waist. His brow furrowed slightly, and after a long pause, he said, “Severe contusion to the muscles and sinews, but fortunately, the foundation remains unharmed. Dispersing blood stasis and reducing swelling will do.”
When it was Second Sister-in-law Shen’s turn, she was half-supported and half-carried by Shen Taotao, wrapped in a cotton quilt, to Lu Taiyi.
Second Sister-in-law Shen kept her eyes downcast, trembling slightly.
Lu Taiyi spoke gently, “Do not be afraid, young madam. Just extend your hand.” His three cool fingertips lightly rested on her icy, swollen wrist.
The cave fell deathly quiet, broken only by the moan of wind squeezing through the grass and the occasional soft crackle of the lamp wick.
Lu Taiyi’s fingertips moved slowly over the three pulse positions—inch, gate, and foot—on Second Sister-in-law Shen’s wrist, varying pressure from light to heavy.
His eyes closed, his brow furrowing tighter, his gaunt face crumpling like crushed paper.
After a long while, his fingertips paused at the right gate pulse. Holding his breath, he focused intently. Beneath his fingers, the pulse… under the slightly sunken skin, clearly exhibited a slippery, bead-like rhythm, flowing smoothly back and forth!
Lu Taiyi’s eyes snapped open, his pupils contracting to pinpoints. His breath caught in his throat.
This pulse… was a slippery pulse.
“You!” Lu Taiyi jerked his hand back as if pricked by a needle, his lips trembling, nearly shouting in disbelief:
“It’s not a chill—!”
“It’s… you’re with child!”
Boom!
It was as if a hundred pounds of gunpowder had exploded in their ears. The entire Shen family froze.
Shen Xiaochuan’s mouth hung half-open, his eyes wide and unblinking, staring dumbfounded at his wife’s belly.
Shen Fu dropped the straw rope he’d been twisting, his aged face rigid with shock.
He Shi, half her clothes soaked through by leaking snow, seemed utterly unaware, her gaze fixed intently on Second Sister-in-law Shen’s flat waist as if trying to bore a hole through it!
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even the howling wind and snow outside seemed to retreat a thousand miles away in an instant, time congealing like frozen lard.
Until—
“Screech!”
A harsh, grating sound of something hard scraping against wood shattered the stillness.
Shen Taotao, as if scalded by a red-hot iron, sprang up from the straw pile.
Her movements were so swift they stirred a gust of wind, making the oil lamp’s flame dance wildly.
Under the stunned gazes of everyone, she scrambled out of the drafty wooden door in a frantic rush.
Like a battle flag charging forward, she raced headlong toward the Post Station Office without a backward glance.
Only one thought roared in her mind, a thousand times fiercer than the howling wind in her ears: Build a house, have children!