I silently watched the assassin die, his eyes gradually losing their light.
In that moment of staring into a dying man’s gaze, a pang of compassion rose in my heart. Those eyes held regret, despair, and reluctance.
Sitting against the wall, I felt the night had been endlessly long. Though only a few hours had passed since Dark Cloud beat the white cat, it seemed I’d lived through an entire autumn.
I stood, approached the assassin’s body, and searched his clothes, finding no clues.
Finally, I leaned down, sniffing his garments, and frowned: “Let’s go home.”
Holding Dark Cloud, I limped toward Taiping Clinic, pain lingering where the assassin struck.
Dark Cloud climbed onto my shoulder, curling up steadily, as if it belonged there.
We ambled into the dawn’s faint light. I said: “When we reach the clinic, the breakfast shop should be open. I’ll buy you a bun.”
Dark Cloud perked up: “You asked Yunyang for eight wen just to buy me a bun?!”
“Yeah.”
“Chen Ji, you’re pretty decent.”
“Gotta be.”
“Chen Ji, may you make big money!”
“When I master cultivation, I won’t take Yunyang and Jiaotu’s nonsense anymore! Then, if anyone blocks me, I’ll kill them… with the ancestors’ blessings!”
“Will you take revenge on Yunyang and Jiaotu later?”
I thought: “Yes.”
“Heh heh heh.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Back at the clinic, the rooster had crowed, but Liu Quxing and She Dakang were still asleep.
Dark Cloud ate two buns and returned to Evening Star Courtyard. I stood in the courtyard, stripped off my clothes, and poured scoop after scoop of cold water from the tank over my head and body, washing away blood until my skin reddened.
I put on my unpatched, tattered clothes and sat dazed by the apricot tree.
In days, I’d killed three people: Wang Long, the steward, the assassin.
Even the steadiest mind would waver, let alone a seventeen-year-old like me.
A door creaking outside broke my thoughts.
I dried off, dressed, and went out, seeing Old Man Yao, medicine chest slung over his shoulder, strolling in.
He glanced at me, and instantly, my body froze, my heart skipping a beat, as if a tiger had locked onto me!
Why this feeling?
Before I could react, She Dakang poked out from the apprentice dormitory: “Master, you’re back so soon?”
“Don’t want me back?” Old Man Yao shot him a look.
She Dakang hurried: “No, no, just curious!”
Liu Quxing emerged, tying his belt, scolding us: “You two, can’t you see Master’s still carrying his chest? Help him with it!”
I: “…”
She Dakang: “…”
Liu Quxing took the chest, asking: “Master, did you cure Old Master Liu? You said you’d be gone ten days or half a month, but you’re back in one.”
Old Man Yao snapped: “That Liu’s already dead. Why stay—perform his last rites? I can’t do that!”
I, shocked: “Old Master Liu’s dead? Even you couldn’t save him, Master?”
Old Man Yao said: “Save what? Liu lives in a manor outside Luocheng. My carriage broke down halfway, taking half a day to fix. By the time I reached the manor, he was dead. Didn’t even see him. Damn bad luck—people who don’t know will think my skills failed!”
Hm?
My heart jolted. The carriage breaking down was too convenient.
A carriage fit for a second-rank official, breaking just like that?
Liu Quxing said: “You must’ve reached the Liu manor last night?”
“Yep,” Old Man Yao nodded.
“They sent you back overnight, not worried about exhausting you?”
Old Man Yao sneered: “Stay there for what? A few more days, and I’d have to chip in for his funeral… I’m resting now. When I wake, I’ll check inventory and accounts. Whoever makes me lose money gets a beating!”
My heart sank—I hadn’t replaced the ginseng yet!
…
…
Before dawn, Flying Cloud Courtyard’s maids were bustling.
They heated water in the side room, carrying copper basins with white towels, clomping up to the second floor.
Consort Yun, helped by Xibing, rose to dress, saying lazily: “It’s getting cold. Tell Xitang to bring the account books this morning to distribute charcoal. Send someone to East Market to ask the Canal Gang if Xishan kiln’s silver-thread charcoal has arrived. Buy a batch, pick the best for Baili’s room—she and the heir are returning from Donglin Academy soon.”
Xibing, combing her hair, smiled: “You’re right, my lady. Silver-thread charcoal burns clean, no smoke.”
“Where’s White Prajna?” Consort Yun frowned. “Haven’t seen it since morning.”
“Probably slipped out to play?”
White Prajna limped up the stairs, its white fur bloodied, face swollen, eyes teary.
Consort Yun: “…”
Xibing: “…”
Clang—the copper mirror hit the floor.
After a pause, Consort Yun laughed: “Sister Consort Jing’s gotten clever.”
Xibing whispered: “Calm down, my lady.”
Consort Yun eyed White Prajna, then said: “Take it to Taiping Clinic for a doctor to check. Have that apprentice, Chen Ji, treat it. The clothes promised as his reward should be ready—ask Xitang. If they’re done, send them along. Don’t slight him—I’ll need him later.”
Xibing replied softly: “Yes.”
Morning came, and Xibing, carrying White Prajna, went to the clinic with a twelve-year-old maid. At the entrance, Liu Quxing greeted with a smile: “Miss Xibing, what brings you to the clinic?”
“Treatment,” Xibing said, peering toward the courtyard. “Where’s Chen Ji? Have him treat it.”
Liu Quxing’s face fell, shouting: “Chen Ji, Chen Ji! Miss Xibing’s here for you!”
He eyed the clothes in the maid’s hands: “Miss Xibing, what’re those?”
“My lady’s reward for Chen Ji,” Xibing said, touching the fabric. “Made by Jiangnan’s tailoring bureau seamstresses. Look at these stitches—so fine.”
Liu Quxing’s face soured. Master said treating at the mansion was ominous—such favoritism!
I, wiping my wet hands on my sleeve, asked curiously: “Miss Xibing, what’s this about?”
Xibing said: “Some brute beat my lady’s cat. Since morning, it hasn’t eaten or drunk, looking listless. I was sent to have it checked.”
I hesitated: “Master just went to sleep. Should we wait for him?”
Xibing shook her head: “My lady named you to treat White Prajna, not your master. Here are the clothes she promised, plus your fee.”
The young maid pulled a small silver ingot from her sleeve, about one tael.
Apprentices weren’t entitled to fees—Old Man Yao charged five taels per visit. For Consort Yun to pay so generously for a cat showed her intent to recruit me openly.
But accepting this money meant choosing between Consort Yun and Consort Jing.
I thought, then said: “I’ll check White Prajna’s pulse first.”
Xibing blinked: “Can you take a cat’s pulse?”
I paused: “…Yes.”
Right?
After a while, I said hesitantly: “Miss Xibing, White Prajna’s external injuries are manageable, but to recover quickly, it needs to boost its vitality. I’ll write a prescription.”
As I wrote, Old Man Yao pushed open the main room’s door, hands behind his back, inspecting the courtyard. Not a leaf on the ground.
He checked the kitchen—spotless.
Usually, the apprentices slacked, leaving the stove dirty, but today it was pristine, like a new place.
Even the water tank was full.
Old Man Yao muttered, heading to the main hall: “Fawning for no reason—either scheming or stealing!”
I’d just handed the wrapped herbs to the maid, sending Xibing off, when I turned to see Old Man Yao’s dark expression: “Didn’t I say no treating patients? I, Yao Qimen, love money but not at the cost of lives. Until you’re trained, I must review your prescriptions!”
I hurried: “Master, it wasn’t a person—it was treating external injuries for Consort Yun’s cat.”
Old Man Yao raised an eyebrow: “That white cat got beaten?”
“Probably…”
He held out his hand: “Show me the prescription.”
I handed it over, hesitating: “Just cnidium seeds for hemostasis and bruising… plus some herbs to boost its health.”
Old Man Yao read, his frown deepening.
After a long pause, he looked up, shocked: “You prescribed a fifty-year-old ginseng for that cat?!”
“Uh-huh.”
“They agreed to cover it?”
“Uh-huh.”
Old Man Yao took a deep breath, marveling: “You’re a damn business genius… From now on, if Consort Yun needs me for a house call, you’re coming along.”
I: “Huh?”
Old Man Yao, as if recalling something, said: “Oh, I saw your father on the road yesterday, likely back from leave at the river dike. Take a day off tomorrow, go home, and get the tuition and medicine money.”
I froze. Father?