At dawn the next day.
Su Wanqing went to Tongren Alley alone.
The courtyard had been tidied up.
It was still shabby, but at least not like yesterday.
It looked much better.
Wang Aiguo sat on a small stool in the yard. His face was pale, but he looked a bit more spirited.
He glanced at Su Wanqing, his cloudy eyes dull.
“Girl, finished the book?”
His voice was hoarse, carrying a hint of testing.
In his view, those ancient texts were obscure and difficult—being able to get through a few pages in one night would already be impressive.
“I finished it,” Su Wanqing nodded.
Wang Aiguo paused, then curled his lips and shook his head, assuming it was just a child bragging.
He lifted his chin toward the pile of uprooted herbs in the corner.
“Which one is Indigo Naturalis? Cold in nature, salty in taste—clears heat, detoxifies, cools the blood, reduces spots. Recite the section about it from General Properties of Materia Medica.”
Su Wanqing only glanced at the broken herbs on the ground.
Her lips moved, and her clear voice rang through the courtyard.
“Indigo Naturalis: salty and cold, enters the liver meridian. Clears heat and toxins, cools the blood, calms convulsions. Used for febrile toxin rashes, blood heat causing vomiting or nosebleeds, chest pain with coughing blood, mouth sores, mumps, throat obstruction, infantile convulsions. Dosage: one to three qian, decocted or made into pills or powder…”
She recited rapidly, every word precise, not a single mistake.
Even the annotations from the book were included.
The casual look on Wang Aiguo’s face disappeared.
He suddenly looked up, his eyes locking onto Su Wanqing like nails, filled with shock.
How… how was this possible?
One night!
She had memorized the entire book?
“Y-you… continue. Recite ‘deep pulse.’”
His voice trembled.
Without hesitation, Su Wanqing continued.
“Deep pulse: not felt with light pressure, only with heavy pressure. Like a stone sinking in water, reaching the bottom. Indicates interior conditions. Strong means excess inside, weak means deficiency…”
Her voice echoed in the courtyard.
Wang Aiguo sprang up from the stool.
He stood too quickly, swaying, nearly falling.
He rushed over, grabbed her shoulders, his thin fingers trembling with excitement, gripping tightly.
“Say it again! The opening of Annotations on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases—the ‘Taiyang’ section!”
Su Wanqing looked at his shocked face and spoke calmly.
“For Taiyang disease, the pulse is floating; the head and neck are stiff and painful, with aversion to cold…”
Each word she spoke struck his heart.
This wasn’t rote memorization!
Her eyes were bright, and as she recited, there was clear understanding in her expression.
She was a genius in traditional medicine!
A once-in-a-century talent!
If Su Wanqing knew how highly he thought of her, she might feel a bit embarrassed.
But her “cheat ability” was still part of her strength.
Wang Aiguo let go and stepped back, nearly losing his balance.
“Master! Careful!” Su Wanqing hurriedly supported him.
As soon as he steadied himself, he threw his head back and burst into wild laughter.
Su Wanqing: …
“Hahahaha! This is wonderful! I’ve found a successor to my life’s work!”
He laughed until tears streamed down his face.
She simply held his hand without speaking.
Wang Aiguo wiped his face and looked at her again, his gaze completely changed.
“Girl, from today on, I’ll teach you everything I know!”
“Thank you, Master. I’ll study diligently!” she vowed inwardly to carry forward his medical knowledge when the times changed.
Over the next three days,
Su Wanqing was extremely busy and exhausted.
But she felt fulfilled.
Wang Aiguo tried to pour everything he had learned in his lifetime into her mind.
Mornings were for theory.
Afternoons for identifying herbs.
Evenings for memorizing more rare medical texts.
With her photographic memory, she absorbed knowledge like a sponge.
Her rate of progress left Wang Aiguo in shock every single day.
On the evening of the third day, he looked at her—now able to recite the properties of hundreds of herbs in one breath—with both pride and reluctance.
“Girl, come here,” he beckoned.
She stepped forward.
“Master.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” he sighed.
He took out a small cloth bundle from his chest and pressed it into her hands.
“Inside are my medical records from decades of practice, and a few ancestral prescriptions. Keep them safe—never show them to others.”
His expression was extremely serious.
“Remember this: your talent is a gift from heaven, but it can also bring deadly trouble.”
“After you go to the countryside, unless absolutely necessary, never reveal your medical skills. People’s hearts are wicked, and the world is harsh. Protecting yourself is more important than anything.”
Looking into his bloodshot eyes, Su Wanqing gripped the bundle tightly.
“Master, I understand.”
“I will protect myself.”
This debt of gratitude was too heavy.
She didn’t know how to repay it.
She knelt before him and bowed three times in gratitude.
“Good child! Get up, get up.” He wiped away his tears.
“Go on, head back.”
“Master, I’m leaving. Take care.”
“Don’t worry.”
After she turned and left, she did not see the deathly resolve in his eyes.
The next day, before dawn fully broke,
Su Wanqing packed her things and pulled her second brother along, wanting to say a final goodbye.
“Don’t worry, little sister. I’ll check on Grandpa Wang from time to time.”
“Thank you, Second Brother.”
She had prepared enough rice, flour, and meat in her storage space for him to get through winter, planning to leave it secretly.
But when they reached the entrance of Tongren Alley, they found a large crowd blocking the way.
A sea of people stretched ahead, all craning their necks and whispering.
Su Wanqing’s heart sank.
A wave of unease surged within her.
“Second Brother…” her voice tightened.
Su Muyang’s face darkened.
He shielded her behind him and pushed through the crowd.
“Excuse me, please!”
When they reached the front, they saw everyone gathered at Wang Aiguo’s gate.
The courtyard door was wide open. Several uniformed personnel were inside, setting up lines.
“Brother, what happened?” Su Muyang asked a middle-aged man.
The man glanced at them, lowered his voice, and sighed.
“What else could it be…”
“Old Wang… jumped into the well.”
Boom.
Those words exploded in Su Wanqing’s mind.
She couldn’t hear anything anymore.
Her vision went black.
Jumped into the well…
Her master…
She staggered back, caught by Su Muyang.
“Qingqing!” His voice was urgent.
Her lips trembled violently.
A crushing grief gripped her heart, making it hard to breathe.
She couldn’t cry now.
She bit her lip until she tasted blood, forcing herself to regain strength.
They had only known each other for three days.
But he had taught her everything despite the danger.
She could never repay that kindness.
In her mind, the livestream comments exploded.
[How could this happen? Doctor Wang…]
[We can only see the main storyline. Side characters like him—we couldn’t foresee or warn about this!]
[Qingqing, don’t cry. Stay strong!]
[It’s the times… don’t be too sad.]
Her gaze swept over the crowd.
Some neighbors showed sympathy, some regret—but most were numb.
Several people with red armbands stood outside, watching coldly.
She couldn’t act rashly.
Absolutely not.
If she rushed forward now, she would change nothing—and would be immediately targeted, dragging her entire family down.
Her master had just told her to protect herself.
Her nails dug deep into her palm, using pain to stay clear-headed.
“Come on, Qingqing. Let’s go home.”
Su Muyang gripped her arm and forced her to turn away, pushing through the crowd.
He knew how much she was hurting, but also that this was not the place to show it.
She walked with him, her steps light and unsteady, as if walking on air.
Only after leaving the alley and turning onto the main road did she stop and look back.
“Qingqing, we have to go.”
“If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss the time.”
Seeing her pale face and red eyes, Su Muyang’s heart ached.
He patted her back gently, his voice low and steady.
“Do you trust me? Leave this to me.”
“I promise—I’ll make sure Doctor Wang is properly laid to rest.”
She looked up, tears finally spilling over.
She met her brother’s determined gaze and nodded firmly.
“Okay. I trust you, Second Brother. Thank you.”