The next instant, a soft creak echoed—the wooden door of the small house swung open a crack on its own, as if inviting Song Qinghuan to step inside.
Curious, Song Qinghuan pushed the door open and entered.
The moment she crossed the threshold, a wave of medicinal scent washed over her.
It was unlike the harsh, bitter tang that made one instinctively frown at ordinary apothecaries. Instead, beneath that familiar base lay a faint, sweet undertone—exactly like the fragrance she’d caught by the spiritual spring earlier.
Looking up, she saw two rows of medicine cabinets directly facing the door.
Simple and unadorned, they were the same kind of multi-drawer cabinets common to apothecaries. Countless small drawers lined each cabinet, each labeled with the name of its herb in red paper.
At a glance, she spotted Atractylodes macrocephala, wolfberry, Rehmannia glutinosa, Ligusticum chuanxiong, Poria cocos… every herb she could think of was there.
Beyond the two rows facing the door, the entire right half of the room was filled with more cabinets.
Song Qinghuan moved eagerly along the rows, her gaze sweeping over every label.
Alongside common herbs, even rare treasures like cordyceps, ginseng, musk, and rhinoceros horn were fully stocked.
She pulled open a few drawers—every specimen was of the highest grade, uniformly excellent, with not a single subpar one to be found.
Herbs of such quality were one in a hundred, precious beyond measure; some fetched many times the price of ordinary counterparts.
Song Qinghuan was stunned.
The contents of this single wall alone were incalculable in value.
But the house held far more than just medicinal herbs.
After exploring the right side, she hurried over to the left.
Here too stood rows of cabinets—yet their fronts were shrouded in mist, identical to the veil that had covered the window before it unlocked, obscuring everything within.
Song Qinghuan circled the cabinets and spotted a long list pasted on their side, apparently detailing what was stored inside.
The text was veiled by mist, save for the headings at the very top:
First row: Complete Collection of Ancient and Modern Chinese Medical Texts
Second row: Western Medicine: From Beginner to Master
Third row: Compilation of Surgical Case Records
Further in were cabinets holding medical instruments, tools, and modern medical journals—all equally hidden behind mist.
Her excitement grew with every passing moment.
As a medical professional, she knew all too well that Western medicine, especially surgery, was still weak in their country. It was also the area where she herself lacked confidence.
If she could fill those gaps with these resources, learn advanced knowledge, and refine her skills—wouldn’t that make up for so many of her shortcomings?
She recalled how she had unlocked the house earlier. The moment the thought I want to access these materials formed in her mind, the translucent interface reappeared before her eyes:
Unlock all contents for 500 points. Confirm?
[Yes] [No]
She wasn’t sure if she had enough points left. Heart thrumming with anticipation and unease, she selected [Yes].
A familiar wave of energy washed over her. Slowly, the mist lifted from the cabinets, and their labels came into clear view.
Stepping forward eagerly, she saw that the Complete Collection of Chinese Medical Texts was organized by category: materia medica, formulae, diagnostics, acupuncture, and clinical specialties—every field fully covered.
Each compartment was packed with familiar, time-honored works. The top shelf even held legendary lost texts, rare single copies, and volumes long thought to exist only in tales.
The two rows for Western medicine lived up to their name: every level of knowledge, from basics to advanced practice, was meticulously organized and complete. Many texts were written in clear, accessible language, thorough yet easy to follow. Even a complete novice, reading them in order, would surely develop considerable skill.
As for the journals, they contained every issue published by every country in the world, from the founding of each publication to the present—without a single gap. A note added that they would update in real time: any new release, even monthly, would appear here the moment it was published.
This is incredible, she thought. I never dared to dream of such a thing!
Further on, the cabinets matched their descriptions perfectly—every instrument and tool a physician could possibly need, all neatly arranged. Even bronze and silver models for practicing acupuncture and locating acupoints were present.
Song Qinghuan’s eyes darted from one shelf to the next, unsure where to begin. She rubbed her hands together, giddy with excitement.
She had studied medicine for years, and nothing had frustrated her more than how inconvenient life was in this era. Certain books and journals were only available in major cities; medical texts were scarce to begin with, and even common titles required trips to countless bookstores to gather. Every purchase took precious time and energy.
With these shelves, she would never have to struggle like that again. The hours she saved could be spent learning so much more.
She wandered from one end of the shelves to the other, ready to dive in—until her peripheral vision caught sight of another door.
She blinked, recalling her first impression of the house’s size. The space she had explored so far seemed to make up only part of it; a section must have been walled off.
Having already seen so many wonders here, her mind raced with possibilities. She reached out tentatively and pushed the door open.
Her eyes widened in awe.
It was a vast kitchen!
Just as she’d guessed, a partition wall divided the space. The kitchen took up roughly one-fifth of the entire building, a neat rectangle. Facing the entrance was a stove fitted with three large pots—constructed of stainless steel, unlike the earthen or brick stoves she knew.
Wondering how to light it, she noticed instructions affixed to the wall nearby. Scanning them quickly, she realized it was a gas stove—something she’d only heard of, never seen.
Gas stoves were still new, only recently becoming common in wealthy households or restaurants in major cities. Most people, like her family, still used traditional brick-and-clay hearths.
Following the instructions, she turned the knob cautiously. To her amazement, the flame adjusted instantly to any heat level she chose. When done, a simple twist extinguished it completely—no more tending fires with kindling, fanning flames, or blowing on embers.
How much time this would save in the kitchen!