"What's wrong, Jin Yue? Is… it not good?" Feng Chunxia suddenly grew nervous. Although she knew her condition was probably beyond recovery, Jin Yue's expression made her heart sink to the pit of her stomach.
For a moment, hearing that Jin Yue could treat difficult illnesses, she had entertained the fantasy that perhaps she would become that lucky one.
Jin Yue was taken aback, then realized her expression had caused concern and quickly explained: "It's not about you, Chunxia-jie. I just remembered that I forgot to get a receipt when I delivered the documents earlier. I'm afraid it'll be hard to explain if the leader asks."
She spoke so convincingly that Feng Chunxia didn't doubt her, letting out a small sigh of relief. "Then maybe you should go get the receipt first. My matter isn't urgent."
Jin Yue shook her head. "No need. At worst, I'll make another trip tomorrow morning. The people over there have all gone out on business. I wouldn't be able to get it even if I went now."
Feng Chunxia uttered an "Oh." She didn't have any urgent matters at the government newspaper. Interview assignments rarely came her way, and at most, she handled light tasks like text editing. She seldom dealt with external units and truly didn't understand these procedures.
"Chunxia-jie, besides headaches, thirst, and frequent urination, do you have any other symptoms?"
Feng Chunxia thought for a moment and shook her head.
Some patients were like this—feeling unwell all over at home, with a basketful of symptoms, but when facing the doctor, they could never remember, only regretting not mentioning those symptoms after leaving the clinic.
With such patients, Jin Yue preferred to ask questions based on the pulse reading: "Chunxia-jie, think again. Recently, have your stools been dry or difficult to pass? Is there bad breath? Are there a lot of eye secretions when you wake up in the morning?"
Feng Chunxia shook her head. "None of those. My bowel movements have always been once a day, neither dry nor loose."
Jin Yue pondered. "Then do you still feel hot now?"
"Not at all. I only feel cold, as if the cold has seeped into my bones. Several doctors have said I caught a cold during confinement, and it hasn't fully healed yet."
See, all the subjective symptoms were opposite to what the pulse indicated. Yet, if she were to say it was genuine deficiency with excessive pathogens or solitary yang hyperactivity, her mental state didn't match that either.
Jin Yue even wondered if she had misread the pulse. She placed her hand on the pulse again, checking for ten minutes. Whether feeling superficially or deeply, it was a flooding pulse—a genuine flooding pulse.
"What? Is my health really not good?" Feng Chunxia asked cautiously, desperately hoping that Dr. Shu Jin Yue would give her a negative answer.
However, Jin Yue simply told the truth: "I didn't say it's good or bad. I need time to think it over. How about you go home and rest for a while, Chunxia-jie? I'll come find you later."
Feng Chunxia didn't know whether to feel happy or sad. Numbly, she slowly walked back to her home.
Inside the house, the fifth sister was sitting on the kang, nibbling on half a boiled sweet potato—soft and sweet. The little sixth sister was being held by Aunt Feng, being fed rice soup spoonful by spoonful.
After her condition worsened, she had stopped breastfeeding. Within a few days, her milk supply dried up. Now, even if the child wanted to nurse, she had no milk left. There was no choice but to cook rice soup for the child. Occasionally, her husband managed to get some cow's or goat's milk, which they mixed in.
The little sixth child was particularly picky with food and could actually taste the difference between rice soup and milk. She drank the milk eagerly, but when it was rice soup, she would cry heartbreakingly and refuse to be fed. Only when she was truly starving could they manage to get some down her throat.
With such chaotic feeding methods, the child grew as thin as a little mouse.
Now, though, whether it was an illusion or not, this "little mouse" seemed very happy, drinking with great relish?
It seemed that today's rice soup was especially delicious. The little sixth child ate it with gusto, even opening her mouth wide in anticipation—completely different from her heart-wrenching cries at home.
"Mom, sister is drinking milk, milk," the fifth sister whispered.
Feng Chunxia corrected her, "It's rice soup."
"No, no, milk, milk," the fifth sister waved her hands anxiously. Her mother had taught her not to lie, so she had to tell the truth.
Feng Chunxia found it amusing but had no energy to correct her further. All she wanted now was to lie down—it required no effort and would bring some comfort.
"It's powdered milk, given by your Aunt Shu. She said Jin Yue asked her to bring it over."
"She felt sorry for our little sixth, saying that always eating rice soup has no nutrition. She told you to pass the message to the child's father to find a way—no matter how hard or tiring, the child shouldn't suffer."
Feng Chunxia was taken aback, feeling a warmth in her heart first. Jin Yue seemed a bit awkward now—in the past, she was straightforward with her likes and dislikes, but now her face was always stern, as if she was hard to talk to. Yet her heart remained just as soft.
Then came a wave of sorrow. She knew powdered milk was better than rice soup, but they had no money to buy it.
"They gave about half a jar's worth in a canned jar, enough for three meals. Take it back later and feed it to the child. Hurry and have her father get some milk powder coupons."
In the elderly's minds, their son-in-law was a cadre—how could a cadre not manage to get milk powder coupons? They simply didn't care enough, thinking that since she was just another girl, she could be raised casually like the previous five.
The mother-in-law held some resentment toward this son-in-law. Just as Jin Yue had said, it was he who made Chunxia pregnant, not his parents who made her pregnant. He shouldn't push everything onto the elders.
Feng Chunxia wanted to explain a few things but suddenly felt extremely tired. She had always been the peacemaker between her husband and her parents, always making excuses for her husband. After more than ten years, she was worn out.
The old Feng couple exchanged a glance and sighed inwardly. It wasn't that they thought their son-in-law was bad—he was good to Chunxia, considerate, helped with the children and housework, and even stood up to his parents for Chunxia. He was also filial to his in-laws. But somehow, he wasn't good enough—making Chunxia give birth to one child after another until her health was broken.
Even Jin Yue, an unmarried young girl, understood this logic, and they naturally did too.
Ah, when it came down to it, wasn't his enthusiasm all about wanting a son?
Over at the Shu family, Jin Yue sat by the window, deep in thought. When the pulse and symptoms completely contradicted each other, which should be relied on? Most of the time, it was the pulse—the pulse didn't lie. But in her previous life, Jin Yue had also encountered instances where the pulse was inaccurate and nearly led to a misdiagnosis.
She had a feeling that Feng Chunxia's condition needed further consideration.
"Jin Yue, keep an eye on the fire in the stove for me. I'm going out to use the restroom," Zhao Wan Qiu said. A pot of red beans was simmering on the stove—no one knew where Shu Wen Ming had gotten them. He said he wanted to eat red bean buns, so Zhao Wan Qiu planned to cook some bean paste first to use as filling.
No one knew what had come over these three children. Ever since Jin Yue bought them leather shoes, Wen Ming and Wen Yun had also started bringing things home sporadically—sometimes a bag of slightly spoiled apples that could still be eaten after cutting off the bad parts; sometimes a few pairs of rubber gloves, claiming they were distributed by their work unit, for her to wear while washing dishes and clothes in winter to keep her hands from freezing.
Jin Yue, worried the red bean paste might boil over, went to tend to it by the stove. Zhao Wan Qiu moved quickly, returning in under five minutes. She washed her hands under the eaves, muttering, "Chunxia is so strange."
But Jin Yue didn’t catch her words, as she had gone back to her room to look for a book. She had already finished the book borrowed from the medical college but wanted to review it again for inspiration.
The three siblings sharing one small room had been quite inconvenient. After Jin Yue returned, Teacher Shu had someone purchase steel rods and wooden planks and asked Uncle Zhao to help weld a simple bunk bed. It wasn’t until a few days ago that all the materials were finally gathered, and Jin Yue barely managed to have her own independent bed.
Since childhood, she had always shared a bed with Shu Wen Yun. In winter, crowding together was warm, but she’d wake up with backaches. Summer was worse—coupled with the odors from Shu Wen Ming’s side, the whole room was stuffy and hot.
If they opened the window, mosquitoes would get in; if they kept it closed, it felt like steaming buns.
Shu Wen Ming wasn’t actually unhygienic—he brushed his teeth and washed his feet daily, and in summer, he even took cold showers every day. But the room was simply too small. With three young adults at their peak metabolism living together, the place inexplicably turned smelly.
Jin Yue realized she had wrongly blamed her second brother before. It wasn’t until she lived at the Educated Youth Spot that she understood this.
In the evening, Jin Yue went to the Feng family to tell them she still hadn’t come up with any ideas. If Sister Chunxia was busy, she could go home first. Jin Yue would think for a few days and, whether she had any ideas or not, would visit to help.
Feng Chunxia had come with hope and didn’t want to leave disappointed. She was also a bit angry with her husband, so she decided to stay at her parents’ home.
"Won’t Brother Feng and his wife mind?" Jin Yue looked up and asked Zhao Wan Qiu.
"Ah, that young couple is actually quite good-natured. Their past conflicts were because they hadn’t thought things through. It’s been so many years—how much resentment can there be among siblings?"
Besides, when Uncle Feng and his wife supported Chunxia, it wasn’t at the expense of their own livelihood. They helped within their means, which made their daughter-in-law feel better. "Chunxia’s husband also knows how to handle things—he never comes empty-handed, and her younger brother has smoked plenty of his cigarettes."
As everyone listened, Zhao Wan Qiu’s steamed buns were ready. Plump, white buns, with semi-liquid, scalding red bean paste inside—
"These are delicious, so sweet."
"I remember the red bean paste we ate as kids wasn’t this sweet. Did you add sugar, Auntie?" Shu Wen Yun asked curiously.
"The little sugar we have at home wasn’t enough—your eldest brother took it. He said he has low blood sugar and needs it to make sugar water." Teacher Shu fumed, getting angry just thinking about his eldest son, who shamelessly took from the family without a hint of guilt.
Shu Wen Yun fell silent. She had always been steady-natured, never one to take the lead or gossip behind others’ backs. After the last incident, she had grown even more reserved, her gaze toward everyone—especially Jin Yue—complex.
"It was Jin Yue who contributed her honey, added several big spoonfuls of it."
Shu Wen Ming slurped noisily while devouring another one, "No wonder, I was just saying this sweetness tastes particularly mellow."
He glanced at Shu Jin Yue, "Where did you get this honey?"
"Someone gave it to me."
Shu Wen Ming's eyes widened, "Who? Just giving away such good stuff so casually? This isn't from any bee farm, it's wild honey, right? I remember our store got a few pounds of wild honey last year – crazy expensive, got reserved by the manager within half an hour. Probably used for currying favor."
Jin Yue blinked innocently.
"Who gave you such an generous gift?" Even Teacher Shu grew curious, "Such an expensive thing, we shouldn't accept it recklessly. Especially for a girl, you don't want to give people the wrong idea."
"A friend." She didn't want to say "an uncle" – that would make him sound old unnecessarily. Xu Duan was only a few years older than her, not old at all.
"Which friend? I know all your friends – isn't it just Yao Qingqing and Huang Mei? Could it be from Yao Qingqing?" Shu Wen Ming insisted on getting to the bottom of it, but Shu Jin Yue grabbed her steamed bun and ran off.
Hmph, Second Brother is so annoying. We're all adults here, can't he understand boundaries?
With the children all off to work, Zhao Wan Qiu followed her usual routine – going out for a stroll while picking up some groceries on her way back.
"Isn't your Teacher Shu with you?" Neighbors would ask whenever she went out.
"He's playing chess with Old Li today. I can't be bothered waiting for him."
Everyone laughed. Actually, the old couple got along quite well and rarely argued. Though Zhao Wan Qiu had a quick temper, Teacher Shu was tolerant. When she flew into a rage and scolded him, he wouldn't talk back or hold grudges afterward. Once she cooled down, he'd approach her and start conversations himself.
"In marriage, a hot-tempered person needs to be paired with a mild-mannered one, otherwise they can't live together."
While everyone was chatting, Zhao Wan Qiu suddenly heard someone calling her name. Turning around, she inwardly groaned – speak of the devil! Just yesterday she was telling the children about the head nurse's sister who died of diabetes, and today she runs into the head nurse herself.
Steeling herself, she walked over, "Going grocery shopping, Chief?"
The head nurse glanced at the pitiful few greens in Zhao Wan Qiu's basket, deliberately lifting her own piece of pork belly, "Just buying some random things. My husband really loves braised pork, and it can't be too lean. Hey, why aren't you buying any meat? You can't just eat vegetables all the time."
Zhao Wan Qiu was cursing internally but maintained her composure externally.
Pah! As if I don't eat meat by choice?!
"Oh my, how forgetful of me. Didn't your daughter say she wanted to stay in the city last time? Oh, you should've told me earlier! Right after you asked, my niece started working as a temporary worker in our department. She's not very bright and doesn't like studying, needs teaching every single day. If your daughter had come, she'd definitely be as capable as you."
Zhao Wan Qiu nearly spat, really wanting to tear that disgusting face apart.
When it came to arranging a position for Jin Yue, she made all kinds of excuses, but she could arrange for her good-for-nothing niece? Was she deliberately trying to piss her off?
It wasn't like she hadn't met that niece before – back in middle school when the girl came to visit, she couldn't even string a proper sentence together, the kind who could get lost right outside her own home. And they arranged for her to give injections and distribute medicine to patients? Wasn't that just asking for trouble?
Zhao Wan Qiu had been cultivating patience for several years now and didn't want to bother with her, but remembering all the past grievances, she thought – I'm retired now, what can you possibly do to me? Immediately planting her hands on her hips, she prepared to have it out with her.
Fortunately, they were pulled apart by the neighbors of Liu Ye Hutong.
"She's still working at the hospital. There might come a time when your family members fall ill and you need her help. Stop arguing. If you lose the argument, you'll only upset yourself; if you win, your family might suffer for it later."
When Zhao Wan Qiu returned home, she hadn't even caught her breath, let alone had the mood to cook. She collapsed straight into bed and fell asleep.
Meanwhile, Shu Jin Yue didn't return home for dinner either, as she had other matters to attend to, so she was unaware of what had happened. Having found no leads in the books she currently had, she made another trip to the medical college.
Before leaving, she informed Zhu Daqiang, so that even if she didn't make it back by the end of her shift, Old Zhu wouldn't hold it against her. After all, the three of them assigned to the sub-district were far from the higher-ups' oversight—out of sight, out of mind.
On her second visit to the medical college, Jin Yue was much more familiar with the place. She went straight to the library, returned the books she had borrowed last time, and began searching for new ones. The college students nowadays were so studious that the library's books were often in short supply. A good book, once returned, might not even make it back to the shelf before being borrowed by the next person waiting.
However, this treatment was reserved for clinical medicine books. Traditional Chinese Medicine books, on the other hand, were largely neglected. Jin Yue found the same shelf as before, and sure enough, eight or nine out of ten books were still there. She picked out two or three, spending about half an hour, and brought them to the registration desk.
"Comrade, you're not a student of our college, so you can't borrow these."
Jin Yue was taken aback. "I was able to borrow them last time. Can I use my work ID? I'm from Xinqiao Sub-district…"
"No, that won't work. The rule was changed just last week. From now on, only our students can borrow books."
Jin Yue was dumbfounded. She pleaded pitifully, "Sister, could you make an exception? I really need these books."
The woman, soft-hearted, replied, "It's not that I don't want to lend them to you, but the rules are the rules. If I let you borrow them, I'd be reprimanded, you understand?"
Jin Yue quickly assured her that she understood. She thought to herself that if she couldn't borrow the books, she would just read them in the library, trying to finish before closing time and commit the contents to memory. The only downside was that she'd have to skip work for a day, which made her feel a little guilty.
Though she wasn't someone who strictly followed every rule, she believed that if she was paid for a day's work, she ought to put in a day's work.
Just as she was about to turn around and find a spot to sit and read, someone called her name from behind. "Shu Jin Yue?"
"I've finally run into you again, Comrade Shu Jin Yue." Qin Haiyang's ears were tinged with red.
Jin Yue remembered him—he was the young man she had bumped into on campus last time. Back then, she had casually said she would treat him to a meal…
"Are you here to borrow books? Teacher, I can help her borrow them using my ID."
After the registration was completed, the two walked out of the library. Jin Yue felt that today's meal was unavoidable. After all, he had helped her twice in a row, and if she didn't treat him, it would seem like she was taking advantage of his kindness.
"Last time, I didn't ask clearly. I even went to the Traditional Chinese Medicine department to look for you… but couldn't find you. Are you planning to enroll as a Worker-Peasant-Soldier Student at our college?" He had been teased by his roommates for days because of that.
Later, he came up with another idea. Since Shu Jin Yue wasn't a student at their college but would surely return to the library to bring back books, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, frequently leading him to the library.
Qin Haiyang scratched the back of his head, afraid of missing another chance to introduce himself. "My name is Qin Haiyang. I'm in my third year and will start my hospital internship next month."
"Which unit are you from?"
Faced with such sincerity, it would be improper for Jin Yue to continue being evasive. She honestly shared her own information.
"You work at the epidemic prevention station? Then we're colleagues!" Qin Haiyang immediately became more talkative, asking Jin Yue about her work one moment, sharing stories from his school the next, and then chatting about his previous job experiences.
He was part of the first class of Worker-Peasant-Soldier University students in 1970. After graduating from high school, he worked at the Municipal Public Security Bureau for two years before being recommended for university.
Jin Yue asked curiously, "What did you do at the public security bureau?"
"Initially, I worked with my father as a forensic pathologist, but the work was too specialized."
"Forensic pathology? You're really impressive." Being an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl, Jin Yue also enjoyed watching TV dramas, especially crime investigation series that always featured brilliant forensic pathologists who solved cases repeatedly.
"I… I lacked professional knowledge back then, so I just assisted with minor tasks. Important work wasn't assigned to me." Qin Haiyang scratched his head. "But it was those two years of work experience that made me determined to study medicine."
"Then why didn't you study forensic pathology?" Instead, he chose gynecology and obstetrics.
Qin Haiyang's previously bright expression instantly darkened. "Later, my sister passed away due to difficult childbirth, so I…"
Jin Yue understood. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought this up."
Many great medical professionals were inspired to pursue medicine by the loss of loved ones, which ignited their passion and interest in the field. Such individuals often possess remarkable dedication to their studies. That a male colleague would choose gynecology and obstetrics for this reason made him even more admirable.
Jin Yue felt guilty for her previous perfunctory attitude toward him. "You're truly outstanding and will surely achieve great things in the future."
"Thank you for your encouragement, Comrade Shu Jin Yue. I will definitely work hard."
Seeing no need to postpone the meal invitation, Jin Yue said, "Let me treat you to dinner today to thank you for your help. Please don't stand on ceremony – how about your school cafeteria?"
She couldn't afford state-run restaurants outside and assumed campus food would be cheaper.
"Alright." Qin Haiyang blushed again. After just one interaction, he could tell Shu Jin Yue was different – she seemed bolder and more courageous than many female comrades, speaking frankly and decisively. Despite her youth, she had clear ideas and rich clinical experience, making her a role model for him.
"The plain noodles in our cafeteria are delicious. Would you like to try them?"
They went to the noodle window, each ordering a bowl. Though young, Jin Yue had a good appetite and ordered three liang for herself, while getting five liang for Qin Haiyang.
"I said I'm treating, so I'll make sure you eat your fill."
The medical school's cafeteria noodles were surprisingly chewy and refreshing, with even the soup being flavorful. Combined with food stamps, the price was cheap. Jin Yue thought she could sneak in again if she craved them later – much cheaper than outside restaurants.
Probably because it was meant for students, not only were the prices reasonable, but the portions were generous.
Another day of envying university students for their cafeteria access!
They chatted while eating, mainly with Jin Yue asking about interesting stories from his previous work. With public security being good nowadays, even the municipal bureau rarely encountered homicide cases requiring forensic autopsies – unlike crime dramas where dismembered or headless bodies appeared every few days.
Qin Haiyang happily shared, and they unknowingly talked for over two hours before realizing it was already dark.
"My fault for not watching the time – I've delayed your studies."
"It's fine, we'll be starting our internships soon anyway, and there are no evening classes." Qin Haiyang pushed his bicycle forward. "It's already dark, and the bus to your Liu Ye Hutong probably isn't running anymore. Let me walk you home."
Jin Yue thought about it—she could transfer buses to get home, but it was late and she wasn't sure if she'd miss the last bus. Safety first. "Alright."
Rarely encountering a topic that genuinely interested her, Jin Yue was unusually talkative, asking about forensic medicine all the way back. Even upon reaching Liu Ye Hutong, she still felt the conversation had ended too soon.
"Thank you, Comrade Qin Haiyang."
"I should be thanking you—you treated me to noodles."
Remembering how politely they'd deferred to each other during their first meeting, both laughed. "You should head in now. I'll get back to campus quickly."
"Alright, travel safely. You're welcome to visit me whenever you're free."
"Sure. Whenever you need to borrow books again, just come find me directly." Before they even parted, he was already looking forward to it. Shu Jin Yue would need to return the books after finishing them, which meant she'd definitely seek him out. If she continued borrowing more… well, they'd have plenty of opportunities to meet again. How wonderful.
Jin Yue tightened her grip on her bookbag and walked inward until she reached a large pomegranate tree. Suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, startling her.
"Back already?"
Xu Duan's face was hidden in the darkness—she couldn't see his expression, and his tone gave nothing away.
"Just got back. Why are you here?" Jin Yue immediately brightened. Though she still hadn't found a breakthrough regarding Sister Chunxia's condition, just seeing his agreeable demeanor lifted her spirits.
"Was that your friend?"
Clearly, he hadn't just seen the person—he'd also noticed them talking at the alley entrance for a long time. With his sharp hearing, he'd likely caught every word.
"Yes, someone I recently met. He's outstanding and quite interesting."
Xu Duan seemed disapproving, wearing the concerned expression of an adult wary of a child misjudging character. "Don't make definitive judgments about new acquaintances. You should still be cautious."
"I know, I know. He even walked me home." Jin Yue yawned. "Want to come inside for a bit?"
"I have matters to attend to. Keep this safe." He handed her a heavy cotton bag.
Jin Yue barely had time to thank him before he left. After two steps, he turned back and said gently, "Be more careful in the future. Don't stay out so late, and don't skip work casually."
At that moment, Jin Yue only found him nagging. But upon returning home, she realized: he knew she'd skipped work. Did that mean he'd come looking for her before her shift ended, gone to her workplace, and waited until now?
Her family knew she was bold and independent now, so they didn't comment on her missing dinner at home. Children grow up—they have their own social circles. Teacher Shu and Zhao Wan Qiu were open-minded and didn't interfere much.
Jin Yue successfully retreated to her room. Shu Wen Yun had bought two pieces of floral fabric and hung curtains around both bunk beds, creating private spaces for each. How thoughtful.
She took off her outer clothes, changed into her sleepwear, and climbed to the top bunk before opening the bag. With a rustling sound—
The bed immediately became covered with various chocolates! And a pair of small leather shoes with subtle block heels!
Shu Jin Yue's lips curved upward. "He really treats me like a child. Who loves chocolate that much?"
That night, she secretly ate two chocolates under the covers, telling herself just two wouldn't harm her teeth. She tried on the shoes several times—each fitting perfectly, even better than shoes she'd bought herself. The key was their simple, elegant beauty. She could already predict the stir they'd cause among the girls in the compound.
Meanwhile, in Jinyu Hutong, Xu Duan entered his home. Zhang Zhen was setting the table. "Back already?"
"Sister-in-law." He greeted her and helped bring dishes from the kitchen.
"Little Uncle is back. Try the braised ribbon fish my dad made." This meal turned out to be prepared jointly by Xu Si Qi and Xu Ping. Their family's Ms. Zhang Zhen had always been a key professional in the Surgery department with no time for cooking, which established the tradition of men handling kitchen duties in their household.
"I went to your workplace looking for you this afternoon, Little Uncle, but they said you left early for some matter. What kept you so long?"
Xu Si Qi had asked casually, yet Xu Duan's expression turned slightly uneasy. However, he had always been one to conceal his emotions, so no one could really tell.
"Did you encounter some difficult situation?" Xu Ping scooped the stir-fry into a plate, musing to himself. Since his brother's transfer to civilian work, he rarely returned this late—it must have been something important that delayed him.
"It's nothing, just… never mind, it's nothing." Xu Duan sat at the table, his demeanor calm. Just a child, after all.
Xu Ping and his wife exchanged glances. Though this younger brother was technically their sibling, they had practically raised him like their own son.
During the meal, the couple didn't press further. That night, lying in bed, Xu Ping expressed concern, "Do you think he's facing some trouble?"
Zhang Zhen, unraveling her hair while rubbing her lower back, replied, "I don't think it's trouble—more likely something on his mind."
"What could be weighing on him? His capabilities are more than sufficient for his work." Xu Ping took over massaging her back. His wife was the deputy director of the hospital but still performed clinical duties. Specializing in complex surgical procedures, she often stood for three to four hours per surgery, sometimes even eight or nine hours for complicated cases.
Prolonged standing took the greatest toll on her back.
"He's twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven. At his age, our Siqi was already running errands for us."
Xu Ping suddenly paused. "Are you suggesting he's seeing someone?"
Zhang Zhen shook her head. "Hard to say. Let's observe a bit longer. If it seems serious, we'll have him bring her home to meet us. With his parents gone, we need to take extra care."
Over the next two days, Shu Jin Yue was distracted at work, constantly preoccupied with Feng Chunxia's medical condition. Fortunately, it wasn't a critical emergency, so delaying a few days wasn't catastrophic, but Jin Yue still felt guilty seeing her suffer.
It was out of trust in Jin Yue that she had remained at the Feng residence, awaiting news from her.
During those two days, Feng's husband came twice to bring her home, but she refused to go back. Auntie Li's loose tongue started rumors that the young couple was quarreling because Feng "couldn't conceive a child," infuriating Aunt Feng so much that she argued with Auntie Li twice.
Later, when Sister-in-law Feng returned from work and heard about it, she also had a heated argument with Auntie Li.
No sooner had Sister-in-law Feng finished arguing with her than her own daughter-in-law became inseparable from Sister-in-law Feng, even walking arm-in-arm with her to the restroom. Wasn't that utterly exasperating?
Auntie Li was so enraged she started throwing things at home. When Little Li saw this, he tried reasoning with her, but when that failed, they ended up in another shouting match.
Well, for the neighbors in the compound, witnessing three major confrontations in a single day—all featuring Auntie Li as the antagonist, and crucially, all ending in her defeat—was entertainment even the compound's dogs enjoyed!
Just as Jin Yue entered, Zhao Wan Qiu and Aunt Zhao were discussing the incident, cursing Auntie Li for deserving it. They remarked that if she kept this up, not only would she be despised by people and dogs alike, but she'd also push her own son further away.
"She doesn't understand that. In her mind, having given birth to a son means he should be tethered to her apron strings forever."
"I think Xiao Li is different from her older sisters—she won't just follow orders blindly."
Speaking of those sisters from the Li family who were obsessed with supporting their younger brother, one had to mention Auntie Li's "accomplishments." She had single-handedly broken up two of her daughters' marriages simply because their husbands were normal men unwilling to unconditionally support their brother-in-law.
After the two daughters divorced and had nowhere to go, she didn't let them stay home eating for too long either. Instead, she introduced them to two notorious old bachelors from the area and received two large bride prices in return.
"Just wait. With all this wickedness, the day will come when she gets her retribution." With those words, Aunt Zhao leisurely headed home to cook.
Jin Yue, having absorbed a bellyful of gossip, felt a bit regretful. In her previous life, when Teacher Shu came to visit her, why hadn't he properly explained Auntie Li's fate? She really wanted to know whether Auntie Li would face retribution.
"Stop listening now. Come peel the potatoes. I'm going to the restroom." Zhao Wan Qiu wiped her hands and hurried toward the toilet.
Jin Yue found it strange. "Mom, what's going on with you lately? Do you have diarrhea?"
"Don't even mention it. I've had diarrhea since the day Chunxia returned. It's all your father's fault—he insisted on keeping the leftover pickled cucumbers from the day before, refusing to throw them away. I ate them with him, but he's fine, while I've been having diarrhea for days."
"Should I get you some medicine? It's not good to keep having diarrhea like this."
"Why waste money? It's not that severe—just three times a day. It's actually good for clearing out the system."
Jin Yue knew how stubborn her mother could be. And she was a healthcare worker! She'd even happily take medicine that had expired a year ago.
"In our compound, the ones who visit the restroom the most often are me and Chunxia. I've run into her several times in the restroom, but she's faster than me… Oh, right, why did you all say she urinates a lot? The last few times I saw her, she finished quickly—just a few drops—unlike me, who needs a few minutes."
Jin Yue exclaimed, "Ah! Mom, what did you say? Say it again."
"I said, why did you all say she urinates a lot? She doesn't—it's just a few drops each time. But she does go to the restroom frequently…"
That's it!
A sudden realization struck Jin Yue. Among common folks, especially in Shilan Province, the local term "urinating a lot" didn't necessarily mean a large volume per trip—it could also mean frequent trips. For ordinary people, as long as they weren't sick, whether it was large volume or high frequency, the impact was minimal, so no one bothered to specify.
But Zhao Wan Qiu was a nurse. Observing urine output was part of her basic job—she knew exactly what constituted a large volume.
"Just those dribs and drabs… If it didn't seem effortless, I'd suspect she had a urinary tract infection."
Having encountered numerous patients in clinical settings, she understood quite a bit.
If the urine output was small, it would match a surging pulse!
Everything clicked for Jin Yue. She finally understood what had felt off. Feng Chunxia's pulse was correct—the issue lay in her description of the symptoms! And that description had misled the doctors treating her from the start… No, perhaps it hadn't misled them initially. She might have truly had high urine output at first, but it gradually decreased.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, Feng Chunxia confirmed she was the latter case.
"At first, I could urinate a large amount every time, but it gradually decreased. I didn't pay much attention to it." Mainly because she wasn't swollen and there was no urinary retention forming in her body, plus she was completely focused on handling the newborn and her mother-in-law, so she neglected this issue.
Besides urination, the body also expels water through sweat and vomiting, but Chunxia hardly sweated at all and never vomited.
"Whether in Traditional Chinese Medicine or Western medicine, they both emphasize the basic principle of energy conservation. Your water intake is substantial and remains constant, but your output has significantly decreased. At the same time, there's no edema, which means your body is consuming a large amount of water."
This is what Traditional Chinese Medicine calls "scorching the body fluids," like water in a pot being boiled dry.
And the only thing that can boil water dry is fire—that is, heat!
Shu Jin Yue was certain that her pulse diagnosis was correct; the pulse and symptoms aligned. "We must use extremely cold herbs to eliminate the internal heat."
When Zhao Wan Qiu heard this, she said, "But your sister Chunxia is so afraid of the cold. Look, she doesn't even dare go out without a cotton coat, only drinks hot water, and her hands and feet are ice-cold. If she takes cold medicine, wouldn't that just make things worse?"
Feng Chunxia also had this concern and looked at Jin Yue with hopeful eyes.
"Sister Chunxia has a typical case of true heat with false cold. Because the internal heat obstructs the qi mechanism, it creates abnormal conditions, like snow in summer. But the root cause is actually internal heat. Once the heat is cleared and the qi mechanism is unblocked, the body's normal sense of cold and heat will be restored."
Zhao Wan Qiu listened but only half-understood.
Feng Chunxia, without a Western medical mindset, grasped this straightforward explanation. "Then let me try it, Jin Yue. Taking medicine can't hurt much—it's just cold medicine. At worst, I might have diarrhea for a few days. It's fine; I can handle it."
She just wanted to cure this strange illness quickly.
"Then I'll prescribe Baihu Tang with Ginseng for you." Jin Yue took out pen and paper, wrote the prescription with appropriate adjustments, and asked Uncle Feng to take it to the hospital to get the medicine. "After taking the medicine, your urine output should increase, but don't worry—that's a normal reaction."
After the Feng family left, Zhao Wan Qiu began asking all sorts of questions: how to take the pulse, how to ensure the pulse reading is accurate, when the pulse and symptoms contradict each other which one to trust, and even why Baihu Tang is called "White Tiger Decoction."
"Mom, since you're so curious, why not study Traditional Chinese Medicine? I'll teach you, no tuition required."
"Don't be silly. Your mom is busy enough every day; where would I find the time to learn this?"
But Teacher Shu suddenly said, "I think Jin Yue makes sense. Wan Qiu, you should learn it. After all, learning another skill doesn't take up space, and at our age, we're just idle anyway."
Shu Wen Yun, breaking her recent silence, actively encouraged, "I agree too, Auntie. If you're interested, go ahead and learn. We'll handle the housework when we get back."
"No need for you to do it; I'll take care of it." Teacher Shu made the final decision. "Wan Qiu, go and learn. You have a medical foundation, so it should be easier for you than for us. Once you learn, you can help regulate the whole family's health."
Jin Yue looked at him gratefully. She knew that the part about regulating health was just an excuse—he simply wanted his mother to have something to do and regain her confidence.
Zhao Wan Qiu had once been a battlefield nurse, following the Liberation Army to several major battlefields that would later appear in history books. It was precisely because of her constant travels across the country that her marital plans were delayed. By the time peace settled over the land, she was already thirty-four—considered quite old for marriage in those days.
When she met Su Li Min, who was also unmarried and around the same age, they had little emotional foundation. They simply felt that since they were older and the organization had introduced them, it was good enough—they would make do and live their lives together.
Professionally, Zhao Wan Qiu’s skills were solid. She had an excellent reputation among patients, and she passed every professional qualification exam with ease. In theory, promotion should have been straightforward. However, she lacked tact in her speech and often offended colleagues through her work—what later generations would call low emotional intelligence. For example, if she noticed a colleague administering the wrong IV solution, she would point it out bluntly in front of the patient’s family. While she upheld integrity, her approach caused significant trouble for the erring colleague—forcing them to write self-criticisms, face disciplinary action, or even endure scolding from patients’ relatives.
Did she gain anything from this? Nothing at all—only resentment from her coworkers.
Such incidents were far too common. Over time, no one wanted to work shifts with her. Whenever she was mentioned, people would frown and criticize her for lacking collective spirit, calling her a loose, selfish individualist.
Whenever a professional title vacancy arose, it always went to someone more socially adept.
During industry competitions or professional skill contests, the department would nominate others—she never even had a chance to participate.
What was the use of passing qualification exams if she couldn’t secure the corresponding position? All she could do was endure, waiting until retirement, barely managing to attain an intermediate-level title.
It would be untrue to say she wasn’t disappointed. She had once braved gunfire on the battlefield and pulled countless overnight shifts in clinical settings. Yet those who had never endured such hardships—and were junior to her in seniority—had become her superiors. How could she possibly find peace with that?
To make matters worse, she had just been mocked by the head nurse a few days prior, leaving her simmering with unresolved frustration.
Her children might not have known, but Teacher Shu was aware that she still secretly pored over her old professional books from time to time. Whenever someone in the residential compound fell ill, she would offer advice or suggestions. Sometimes, when families brought prescribed IV fluids home, she would voluntarily help administer the injections.
"Xue, it’s settled then. Jin Yue will teach you properly."