Jiang Yueli wandered through Tianmen Mountain like a headless fly, searching for Chu Fengchun, but saw no trace of him. Just as she began to worry that she might be too late or that Chu Fengchun had already finished gathering herbs and left, a faint firelight flickered halfway up the mountainside. Though small, it stood out against the darkening sky.
She rushed toward the light. It had already extinguished by the time she arrived, but she noted the location carefully. There was nothing there, yet the air still carried the scent of burned leaves. Distracted and hasty, she stumbled over a stone, almost falling—but her reflexes saved her.
Bending over to steady herself, she noticed a cracked crevice in the rocks nearby. Narrow in some places, it only fit a fist; at its widest, it was about a meter. On the other side lay a partially collapsed stone wall. Peering in, Jiang Yueli nearly laughed aloud.
Inside the crack, an old man with graying whiskers lay barely conscious. A pile of burnt leaves lay at his feet. His clothes were tattered, but his chest rose and fell faintly—he was still alive. Hearing movement, he slowly opened his eyes. When he saw Jiang Yueli leaning over him, he weakly raised a hand in greeting.
Jiang Yueli studied him. One of his legs was bloodied, bandaged crudely. The wound was clearly serious. The stone wall was smooth and offered no grip; anyone without martial arts skills would have difficulty climbing it, let alone an injured man.
“Old man, are you Chu Fengchun?”
Although she had seen only this person, Jiang Yueli wanted confirmation.
The old man, hearing her question, initially thought she was an enemy come for revenge. He dared not admit anything—he had many who wished him dead, just as many sought his healing.
Jiang Yueli noticed him shaking his head, glanced at the nearby herb basket, and sighed. “Never mind then. Enjoy the mountain view, sir. I’ll leave first.”
The old man was astonished. She was about to walk away without offering help? He quickly called out, “W-wait, young friend, stop!”
Jiang Yueli paused. “Is something wrong, senior?”
The old man’s eyes twitched in frustration. Did she not see he needed help? Not a hint of assistance in her stance!
“My leg is injured from a fall. Please, young friend, help me. I will reward you handsomely,” he said politely. But he had yet to reveal his identity. What if he denied being Chu Fengchun when she asked him to heal her grandmother? Jiang Yueli, always decisive and never one to miss an opportunity, seized it.
“I’m actually here to find the Divine Doctor Chu Fengchun,” she said, feigning urgency. “I’m pressed for time. Perhaps the next destined person can assist you.” She smiled innocently, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Chu Fengchun…
The old man was furious. That insolent youth! Did he have no conscience, letting him lie there dying?
Seeing her about to leave, Chu Fengchun panicked. Though nearing sixty, the thought of death terrified him—hence his years of studying longevity secrets.
“I…I am… Chu Fengchun!” he gasped weakly. Seeing Jiang Yueli return, he finally breathed a long sigh of relief.
“So, you are the Divine Doctor Chu… but how can you prove it?”
Jiang Yueli remained calm, giving him no chance to act first. The calculating glint in her eyes seemed familiar to Chu Fengchun.
“Speak, what do you want?” he asked directly.
Jiang Yueli rubbed her chin, her obsidian-like eyes sparkling, her fox-like expression mischievous.
“Saving a life is greater than building a seven-tiered pagoda—it’s the highest virtue, and no repayment is needed. But if you insist on gratitude, stay by my side, serving diligently for one year. I promise good food, good care, and the best accommodations,” she said, winking.
“Impossible! I just regained my freedom! Not even two years of leisure, and now you want me to serve someone? Forget it!”
Her expression reminded him of Bei Chen Yuan, the trickster who had forced him to serve three years for a single ginseng root. He had just regained his freedom, and now she tried to trick him again.
“What? One year too short? Three years, then?” Jiang Yueli teased, though her words clearly threatened him.
Looking at his injured leg and his nearly empty supplies, Chu Fengchun had no choice but to grit his teeth. “You heard wrong. One year it is.”
His injuries could mostly heal in seven days, but he lacked sufficient food, and the slick stone wall made climbing difficult even uninjured. Though caught off guard, he had no other option.
Feigning hesitation, Jiang Yueli said, “Oh, so you’ll write a contract? How considerate! I trust your integrity, but since you insist, I won’t refuse.”
She then leapt into the crevice, which was wide enough to land safely. From her bag, she took a charcoal pencil and paper, quickly drafting an agreement. Chu Fengchun nearly spat blood—she had prepared everything! If he hadn’t fallen by accident, he might have suspected this whole situation was her scheme.
With the contract signed, Jiang Yueli helped him up and leapt out of the stone crevice.
“Not bad, young one. Your martial arts are impressive—no wonder you dared come looking for me,” Chu Fengchun said, weakly leaning against her. He had intended to make her carry him down, but after grabbing her hand, he instantly relaxed his grip.