“After breakfast, I’m going up the mountain for a while. Will you be okay staying home by yourself?”
“Up the mountain?”
“Yes. Your leg is swollen and bruised—you need to improve blood circulation and clear the meridians. There’s nothing useful at home, so I’m going to try my luck in the mountains and see if I can find some medicinal herbs.”
Qin Jizhi had thought her words yesterday were just meant to comfort him. He didn’t expect her to actually go through with treating his leg. Since he had already agreed to it before without taking it seriously, he couldn’t bring himself to object now—he was only worried about her safety.
“The mountains aren’t safe. There are often wild animals. I don’t feel at ease letting you go alone.”
Yu Qiaoqiao placed the food in front of him. “I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”
“Qiao’er.” Just before she left, Qin Jizhi called out to her.
“Hmm?”
“Be careful.”
Her pretty eyes lifted slightly. She walked over, leaned in, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Stay home and wait for me.”
With that, she slung a bamboo basket over her back and headed out.
Listening to her footsteps fade into the distance, Qin Jizhi felt a mix of emotions.
A woman who had only married him for a day because of her parents’ arrangement was willing to go up the mountain alone and endure hardship just to heal his leg. It had been a long time since he’d felt someone care about him like this.
Meanwhile, Yu Qiaoqiao followed the path in her memory toward the mountain. At this time, people’s understanding of traditional Chinese medicine was still shallow, yet it was both inexpensive and free of side effects.
For years, she had insisted on promoting it for this very reason.
She hoped that this treasure of Chinese heritage—left by their ancestors for the benefit of future generations—would be recognized, rather than gradually replaced by Western medicine.
Before she even reached the mountain, she ran into a woman from the same village. The woman’s face was flushed, and she walked unsteadily.
Yu Qiaoqiao called out, “Sister-in-law, where are you headed?”
Liu Yufang felt dizzy and struggled to keep her head up. She glanced at Yu Qiaoqiao. “I’m not feeling well. Going home to get some water.”
For the past few days, every time she lay down, the world spun. She forced herself to get up each morning to work—there were many mouths to feed at home, and as long as she could still move, she had to keep working.
Today she had left in a hurry and forgot to bring water. She couldn’t hold on any longer and felt like she might faint at any moment, so her family urged her to go back and drink some water.
Liu Yufang’s husband, Gao Chengbin, was an honest and kind man. He was the one who had pulled Yu Qiaoqiao out of the river when she accidentally fell in before—while others avoided her, he had only thought about saving a life.
Yu Qiaoqiao took a look at her, then casually stepped forward and held her wrist, chatting idly as she felt her pulse. After a while, she let go.
“Sister-in-law, the weather’s really getting hotter lately. A couple of days ago, I felt dizzy too—like the whole world was spinning when I lay down. Then I drank some ginger water, and guess what? I was completely fine afterward.”
Liu Yufang looked up at her. “Qiaoqiao, you were dizzy too?”
“Of course! So dizzy it felt like the sky was spinning.”
The symptoms matched hers exactly. Liu Yufang felt Yu Qiaoqiao made sense and hurried off to prepare some ginger water.
Watching her leave, Yu Qiaoqiao shook her head slightly. She wasn’t sure if ginger water would really help—when she had checked her pulse earlier, Liu Yufang’s condition didn’t seem minor.
But if she directly told her what medicine to take, Liu Yufang might not believe her. People at this time usually endured illness as long as they could move, reluctant to spend money at the clinic.
So Yu Qiaoqiao had to hint indirectly.
With that thought, she quickened her pace up the mountain.
She needed to go and return quickly—there was still a man at home who couldn’t move, waiting for her.
Though she had eaten breakfast, the portion was barely enough for someone in this era.
For a moment, Yu Qiaoqiao felt that her modern self had been foolish—skipping good meals to diet. If she had known she would be transported here, she would’ve eaten a huge feast the night before.
At least then she wouldn’t be craving even a scrap of meat now.
Before she even began gathering herbs, she was already panting heavily. This body was even weaker than she’d expected—just climbing a mountain felt like intense exercise.
Bent over and catching her breath, she finally started observing the terrain.
Fortunately, there were no wild beasts like Qin Jizhi had mentioned—but it didn’t feel entirely safe either.
Just as Yu Qiaoqiao was happily approaching a cinnamon twig tree, she suddenly saw a pair of glowing green eyes staring at her from between the branches.
A snake!
One of her hands was already gripping the branch, the other raised mid-motion.
The snake was entirely black, with a triangular head. Its red eyes resembled glowing lanterns in the night, bulging outward. Its flickering tongue darted in and out, ready to strike at any moment.
Yu Qiaoqiao froze, her body going cold. This was clearly a venomous snake.
If it bit her, she knew she’d likely die right there.
But just as they faced off, the snake suddenly shot up to the top of the branch at lightning speed, as if Yu Qiaoqiao were the more dangerous beast.
The moment it turned, Yu Qiaoqiao snapped back to her senses and ran forward as fast as she could.
She didn’t know why the snake fled—only that if she didn’t leave now, she might end up as some other animal’s meal.
Although she hadn’t gathered all the herbs she needed, she had managed to find a few key ones.
Without a watch or phone, she had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like a while. So she hurried back home as quickly as she could.
She wondered if Qin Jizhi had struggled with anything while she was gone.
She thought going downhill would be easier—but instead, she couldn’t stop herself. Her feet slipped out of control, and she fell forward hard.
Covered in dirt and twigs, even her hair filled with dry grass, she looked at her scraped palms—skin torn raw.
She hadn’t been bitten by a snake, but nearly killed herself falling instead.
After dusting herself off, the first thing she did was check the herbs in her basket. Thankfully, none were lost.
Ignoring the pain, she gritted her teeth and slowly made her way home.
She imagined that when Qin Jizhi saw her harvest, he would be happy too.
But when she finally rushed back, before even entering the house—just as she stepped into the courtyard—she heard a slightly unfamiliar young woman’s voice coming from Qin Jizhi’s room…