[Mistress… have you forgotten? Your mastery of the healing arts is peerless. While nourishing your body back to health, you could also concoct beauty and complexion elixirs. With such magic at hand—how could you ever fail to become lovely enough to win any heart?]
Xia Yuge nodded slowly. “True enough, Little Nine. Yet such elixirs require rare and precious herbs—herbs no ordinary shop carries. And here at the base, I cannot simply wander off into the mountains whenever I please.”
She had considered it, of course. But the ingredients were scarce beyond measure.
[Mistress—you are not alone. You have me. And remember—those mountains stretching endlessly behind the base? They may hold every herb you need. Tell me what each one looks like, describe them to me—and I shall find them.] The little fox puffed out its chest, proud and certain.
“Very well. I shall draw them for you now. Go by my drawings and bring back exactly what is shown—and should you chance upon other rare herbs, bring those as well.”
Within minutes, Xia Yuge had sketched every plant and root she required, marking each feature with care. Little Nine tucked the sketches away and promised to scour the mountains thoroughly that very night.
True to its word, Little Nine slipped away after dark. Now fully manifested in body, it could roam freely outside the soul-space. Xia Yuge had expected it back before dawn—yet morning broke, and still no sign of the fox. She worried, but only a little. She trusted Little Nine’s skill.
To make elixirs, however, one thing more was needed: a cauldron. And this was not her world—no place to find such things. Even an iron pot required vouchers. Still, she had to try. She made her way to the Military Supply Cooperative, determined to see what might be found.
A woman in her late twenties greeted her with a warm smile. “Comrade, I am Comrade Cui. How may I assist you today?”
“Comrade Cui—do you happen to sell… furnaces? Or cauldrons?” Xia Yuge asked softly.
“Furnaces? Why yes—we have them!”
“Truly? You have cauldrons? That is wonderful!” Xia Yuge’s eyes fairly shone with hope.
“One moment—I shall fetch it for you!”
Comrade Cui returned shortly with a sturdy, single-burner stove—suitable for burning wood or charcoal—and set it before her. Xia Yuge stared. It was simply a cooking stove. Not an alchemist’s cauldron at all. She could boil stew in it, certainly—but never refine elixirs.
Comrade Cui noted her dismay. “Comrade? You intended to cook with it, did you not?”
“Ah—yes, indeed. But—Comrade—have you no other kind? Any other style of stove at all?”
“I am afraid this is all we carry. But truly—this is an excellent stove! Add a pot, and you may stir-fry, simmer, stew… in winter it warms the room as well. You will not regret the purchase.”
Xia Yuge dared not explain her true purpose. Alchemy was a word best left unspoken in this era—it would draw suspicion, perhaps danger. So she bought the stove, and at Comrade Cui’s recommendation, an iron pot and a ceramic stew-pot as well.
If I cannot brew elixirs, she resolved, then I shall do the next best thing: prepare healing and beauty tonics through food and medicine combined. Slower, yes—but safer. Transformation through nourishment, day by day—far less likely to draw attention or danger.
A stove, however, was useless without fuel. Her quarters were in a row of low bungalows, with a small empty plot beside them. She sought out the attendant.
“Comrade—might I prepare medicinal porridge over a small fire? Out of doors?”
“There is no kitchen here,” the attendant said. “But that open plot is permitted—provided you bring your own fuel. We stock no firewood.”
“Where might one purchase firewood then?”
“Not for sale here, I fear. But—if you do not mind the walk—I can introduce you to several officers’ wives who gather wood together in the hills.”
“Comrade—you are too kind! Thank you!”
“Think nothing of it! My husband and I are both Wang—he is a Platoon Leader. Call me Sister Wang, if you please.”
“I should be delighted, Sister Wang! I am most grateful.”
“And what is your name, little sister? I saw Platoon Leader Gu escorting you yesterday—surely you are his intended bride?”
Xia Yuge smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. I am Xia Yuge—call me Yuge. And I am merely his sister.” She offered no further explanation, and Sister Wang politely pressed no further.
“Yuge it is then! I am on duty today—but tomorrow I am free. Shall I call for you at dawn? We might gather wood together on the back slopes?”
“I should like that very much! It is settled then—tomorrow we go.”
And so, with no wood to burn that evening, Xia Yuge dined at the mess hall. She had come prepared, however—her enamel bowl, mug, brush, towel, and all daily necessities were ready to hand.
It was over dinner that evening, amid the crowd of uniformed men, that she saw someone she had not expected—yet whose presence she had known all along was inevitable.