After that, with Gu Mingyan providing cover, Jiang Lizhu also dropped letters into the mailboxes outside the post office and the street police station.
Three letters, written in three different handwriting styles. They no longer mentioned the rumor-spreading incidents inside the hospital. Instead, Jiang Lizhu had extracted information from the novel’s plot and laid out, one by one, matters implicating the Lin family in illegal activities.
The letters didn’t mention concrete evidence, but they pointed out corresponding directions for investigation.
In the middle-to-late stages of the novel’s plot, the female lead, Xiao Jinzhu, was again harassed by the “old witch” Fan Xue. That same night, she accidentally overheard an argument between her parents-in-law, Lin Tianlei and Fan Xue.
Lin Tianlei scolded Fan Xue for being unreasonable and irrational. Enraged, Fan Xue alternated between accusing Lin Tianlei of having an affair, complaining that he still harbored feelings for Ruan Yumin, and shouting that he had wronged her…
In the 1980 setting of the book, after Dean Qin retired, Lin Tianlei surpassed the other four vice deans to become the authoritative dean of Suzhou Hospital. Simultaneously, he also held concurrent positions as vice-president and distinguished professor at the newly established Suzhou Medical University. He could be said to have achieved fame and success, reaching the peak of his life.
In the dead of night, arguments inevitably get emotional. Fan Xue enumerated everything she had done to help Lin Tianlei rise to power, and ruthlessly stripped away his veneer of hypocrisy.
The most serious allegation was that when Lin Tianlei was competing for the vice dean position, he personally orchestrated a plot against Fang Jingyi, his fellow disciple under the same mentor at Suzhou Hospital.
If not for that “accident,” Dr. Fang Jingyi would have been the universally respected and anticipated candidate for vice dean.
Lin Tianlei arranged for someone to approach the family member of a patient who had just undergone major surgery and whose condition was extremely unfavorable. This person deliberately steered the conversation, framing the surgery and the patient’s worsening condition as a medical malpractice case. They also mentioned the huge compensation amounts families had received in several recognized medical malpractice cases domestically.
This family member was originally hot-tempered, impulsive, and prone to anger. During the period of caring for the patient, they had clashed multiple times with medical staff and other patients’ families.
As expected, upon hearing this rhetoric, the family member directly confronted Dr. Fang Jingyi, demanding an explanation and compensation. Fang Jingyi naturally wouldn’t admit to this entirely fabricated malpractice. After failed communication, he had the hospital security department handle it and refused to see the family member again.
When Fang Jingyi was busy, he performed seven or eight surgeries a day. How could he have time to pay more attention to this particular family member?
Then, just as he had almost forgotten the incident, on his way home after a busy day, he was stabbed multiple times by that family member and collapsed. Although timely medical treatment saved his life, the injury damaged his right hand—the most important tool for a surgeon.
During his recovery, Fang Jingyi was at one point disheartened. Forget competing for the vice dean position; he didn’t even want to stay in Suzhou anymore.
Once his injuries had roughly healed, Fang Jingyi used his father-in-law’s connections to transfer with his wife, daughter, and parents to Haicheng. There, he took up a teaching position at Haicheng Medical University.
Becoming a university professor was also a form of achievement and status at the time. But for Fang Jingyi, who loved and was committed to the medical profession, this turn of events was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue, a regret he would carry for half his life.
Fang Jingyi and Lin Tianlei were both students mentored by Old Ruan. At that time, Ruan Yumin had been employed at Suzhou Hospital for less than a decade; her seniority was clearly insufficient.
Before leaving Suzhou, Fang Jingyi leveraged the connections he had built over many years at Suzhou Hospital to fully support Lin Tianlei, helping him become vice dean. He also solemnly entrusted Lin Tianlei with the responsibility of taking care of his younger junior sister, Ruan Yumin.
In these letters, Jiang Lizhu brought this matter up again, emphatically listing the individuals Fan Xue mentioned during their argument as being “in the know.” How to obtain testimony from them, however, was a matter for the Revolutionary Committee, the police, and Fang Jingyi himself.
Of course, the inside information revealed during the argument in the book wasn’t necessarily equal to the truth. But since there was reasonable suspicion, a reinvestigation was warranted. This was of paramount importance to Fang Jingyi, the primary victim of the incident.
Beyond the medical malpractice, Jiang Lizhu also wrote that Fan Xue, as Lin Tianlei’s wife, was suspected of long-term involvement in accepting bribes from patients’ families on his behalf, and of having illicit dealings with certain pharmaceutical representatives.
This wasn’t just Fan Xue’s self-exposure in the book; it was also Jiang Lizhu’s reasonable inference based on how much money the Lin family seemed to have and how freely they spent it.
These matters would also be easier to investigate and gather evidence for than that “accident” for which the perpetrator had already been sentenced.
With this groundwork laid, the Revolutionary Committee and the police would unconsciously pay more attention to the investigation of that “accident.”
Jiang Lizhu believed this move of hers was called “taking away the firewood from under the cauldron”!
By bringing down Lin Tianlei, who was suspected of criminal activity and lacked medical ethics, Fan Xue—who relied on her husband’s position to throw her weight around in the family compound and hospital—as well as Lin Mojia and Xiao Jinzhu, who benefited significantly, would all fall from grace along with him.
However, investigations in this era weren’t so easy. For these letters to have an effect, it would take at least half a year to a year.
During this period, variables remained abundant, especially since Lin Tianlei was the male lead Lin Mojia’s father and one of his biggest assets. Who knew if there was some special plot armor at play.
Furthermore, Jiang Lizhu didn’t let Gu Mingyan know the contents of these three letters.
Firstly, it would be difficult to explain her sources of information. Secondly, she had always believed that matters concerning the Jiang and Lin families were her own affairs, and there was for the time being no need to involve Gu Mingyan.
Coincidentally, Jiang Lizhu had previously mentioned writing letters to Lin Mojia and Xiao Jinzhu’s work units.
It was perfectly fine to let Gu Mingyan think she was just that kind of person—one who repays grievances… no, one who follows through on her word. That suited her just fine.
Having finally accomplished her last necessary task in Suzhou, Jiang Lizhu was in an excellent mood. She took the initiative to hold Gu Mingyan’s large, slender, and strong hand, playfully swinging it back and forth.
When Gu Mingyan looked at her with a helpless expression, Jiang Lizhu rewarded him with a radiant, brilliant smile.
On this midsummer night studded with stars, under the dim yellow streetlight, the beautiful, fair-skinned young woman in her flowing dress shone, and she smiled brilliantly only for him.
Gu Mingyan’s heart was stirred by this “honey trap.” The few lingering doubts and speculations in his mind were also set aside.
When they arrived on the street near the family compound, it was already past eight in the evening, so they could only enter through the north gate.
“Little Gu, oh, and Little Jiang, you’re back,” Grandpa Qin, who worked the long-term shift at the gatehouse and had some familial connection to Hospital Director Qin, first spotted Gu Mingyan, then recognized Jiang Lizhu, greeting them with a chuckle.
“Good evening, Grandpa,” Jiang Lizhu responded with a slight smile, simultaneously and consciously letting go of Gu Mingyan’s hand. But the next moment, Gu Mingyan hooked her hand back onto his arm.
“Let’s walk together,” Gu Mingyan said. He remembered that a section of the path from the central courtyard back to the East Courtyard had no lighting. They had walked hand-in-hand outside, so there was even less need for restraint inside the compound.
“Grandpa, we’re heading back,” Gu Mingyan also nodded to Grandpa Qin before leading Jiang Lizhu further inside.
Since the announcement of Jiang Lizhu’s donation of money and goods to the hospital’s pediatrics department, her popularity within the family compound had visibly improved. All the way from the north gate back home, they stopped several times to chat with people.
Many also noticed Jiang Lizhu and Gu Mingyan walking hand-in-hand, presenting the image of a loving couple.
Before long, this news reached the Lin family, also residing in the compound, inevitably leading to arguments and recriminations.
After Lin Tianlei and Fan Xue’s repeated efforts pulling strings and Lin Mojia’s good attitude in admitting his mistakes at the detention center, it was finally confirmed that he could go to the police station tomorrow morning to complete procedures and be released.
Jiang Lizhu and Gu Mingyan had also learned this news from Xiong Dongjun.
As for Lin Mojia, although he was being released, having been detained for so many days, his work unit and colleagues were already aware of it. With this record, whether he could keep his job remained to be seen, but his career advancement path for the next three to five years was basically blocked, and he was disqualified from various honors and evaluations.
The Lin family had spent money and called in favors, a significant price, and Lin Mojia would still suffer such severe consequences. After Jiang Lizhu left with her son, Xiao Jinzhu, as the trigger for all this, would find it hard to escape being blamed by the Lin family.
Stepping through the low gate of the East Courtyard, Jiang Lizhu and Gu Mingyan simultaneously let out a breath. They exchanged a glance and continued quietly back to the small single room. Jiang Lizhu took out her key and unlocked the door.
“All that chatting is more tiring than walking. Good thing no one mentioned we’re leaving tomorrow,” Jiang Lizhu grumbled in complaint. She put down her bag and plopped onto the bamboo chair, not wanting to move an inch.
Those at the hospital and in the compound who knew Jiang Lizhu had resigned basically guessed that she would most likely take her son to join her husband in the military. Coupled with Gu Mingyan bustling about these past few days, many had noticed.
But Jiang Lizhu and Gu Mingyan had consistently kept their specific itinerary private. And tonight, they had been casually strolling out for dinner and a walk, so no one would immediately think they were leaving tomorrow.
Inside the room, Gu Mingyan gently rubbed the hand Jiang Lizhu had released a couple of times, glanced at her, then continued walking to place their sleeping son on the bed, lower the mosquito net, and carefully check everything once more.
“I’ll go heat up some water. You rest for a bit,” Gu Mingyan said, walking over to Jiang Lizhu. He reached out and stroked her hair before heading out again to boil water.
Their kettle and small iron pot had been sent off that morning along with the bedding and other luggage. However, in the communal kitchen, Grandma Li’s kettle could still be borrowed.
Jiang Lizhu had also given away the pots, bowls, and utensils that were inconvenient to mail and unnecessary to store back at the old house to Grandma Li. With more people occasionally visiting Grandma Li in the East Courtyard now, she often had to borrow bowls from neighbors; these would be perfect for her.
Apart from the bed, this originally second-hand desk and chair in the small room weren’t sent back to the old house. They had been essential for meals and writing these past few days, so they might as well be left for the next occupant.
“Grandma, you’re still awake?” As soon as Gu Mingyan entered the communal kitchen, he saw Grandma Li by the stove. The elderly woman usually went to bed quite early.
“The kettle and the hot water in the pot are for you,” Grandma Li said, handing him a yellowed notebook. “This is for you. Your wife is too lazy; I couldn’t talk sense into her.”
After a slight hesitation, Gu Mingyan took the notebook. Flipping through it, he saw it was a collection of medicinal dietary recipes Grandma Li had painstakingly compiled over years of practice, targeted at different symptoms and different people.
Ever since Gu Mingyan arrived in Suzhou, Jiang Lizhu had completely let loose, not even stepping foot in the kitchen again, lazy with a sense of entitlement and justification.
Grandma Li felt that giving the notebook to Jiang Lizhu would just let it gather dust; it was better to give it to the obviously more diligent and reliable Gu Mingyan.
Grandma Li didn’t care what Gu Mingyan thought. Having handed over the notebook, she hunched her way out of the communal kitchen and back to her room to sleep.
Others might not know when Jiang Lizhu and Gu Mingyan were leaving, but Grandma Li, observing them up close, could certainly guess.
Gu Mingyan followed her out of the kitchen, watched until Grandma Li returned to her room, then turned back to fetch the hot water.
Inside the room, Jiang Lizhu was still sprawled on the bamboo chair. As the door pushed open, her eyes immediately caught the extra notebook in Gu Mingyan’s other hand.
“Pick up some secret manual?” Jiang Lizhu took the notebook, curiously flipped through a few pages, then lost interest and placed it on the desk, her delicate nose wrinkling. “Grandma Li asked you to give this to me?”
“No, Grandma said it’s for me,” Gu Mingyan replied, a helpless look in his eyes. He roughly understood why Grandma Li hadn’t given it to Jiang Lizhu.
In other aspects, Jiang Lizhu seemed adaptable, but when it came to food and drink, she was quite particular and hard to please. On days when the restaurant chef’s cooking was subpar, she would visibly eat less.
The green bean cakes he had just finished yesterday were overly sweet and greasy, which was why Jiang Lizhu had found various ways to “gift” them away.
These medicinal recipes were also medicine; the smell and taste couldn’t be expected to be good. Even if Jiang Lizhu knew they were useful, she wouldn’t bother preparing them.
The other day at the hospital when Dr. Wang prescribed medication, Jiang Lizhu specifically requested no traditional Chinese medicine, citing her busy upcoming schedule as inconvenient for decoction.
Inconvenience was one aspect, but the bigger reason was Jiang Lizhu’s reluctance to drink Chinese medicine.
Jiang Lizhu didn’t dwell on it. She stood up. “Then you put it away. I’m going to wash up.”
Before leaving this evening, Jiang Lizhu had specially washed her hair and taken a bath. Now, she just needed to brush her teeth, wash her face, wipe herself down, and soak her feet to be done.
Gu Mingyan placed the notebook in an inner compartment of his luggage.
Remembering something, he took two small, sealed plastic packets from his clothes pocket—the ones Xiong Dongjun had slipped him, claiming they were something he would like.
Faint sounds of Jiang Lizhu humming a tune reached his ears. Gu Mingyan carefully read the instructions on the packaging, his ears burning. His mind involuntarily wandered, then he took a deep breath and swiftly tucked the two items deep into his bag.