As the sun set in the west, Zhou Liu-lang and Young Master Qin put down their bowls and chopsticks, glancing at the pile of plates nearby, while the soup in the pot continued to simmer.
“Truly amusing,” Zhou Liu-lang remarked.
“It does have a certain air of carefree elegance,” Young Master Qin said with a smile.
“But the name is poorly chosen,” Zhou Liu-lang added. “‘Passing Immortal’? What kind of name is that? Utterly ridiculous.”
The servant attending them chuckled.
“Young masters, they say this recipe was left behind by a passing immortal,” he explained. “The shopkeeper didn’t have time to ask for a name, so they simply called it that.”
Zhou Liu-lang burst into hearty laughter.
“A crafty trickster of the streets,” he said as he rose to his feet.
With the servant’s help, Young Master Qin also got up and walked out.
Outside the main hall, the place was bustling with noise. People sat around stoves, with the aroma of meat and steaming vapors filling the air. Beyond the door, carriages occasionally pulled up.
“No more seats, no more seats!” the attendant at the entrance called out repeatedly, turning away newcomers. “Come earlier tomorrow, come earlier tomorrow!”
A fresh banner had been hoisted above the entrance, bearing bold characters that read Immortal’s Abode.
“They even changed the name. Just for some novelty, they discarded the name passed down by their forebears,” Zhou Liu-lang said, shaking his head with a smile as he took the reins and mounted his horse.
“Insatiable ambition—it’s hard to blame him for it,” Young Master Qin said with a chuckle, gazing thoughtfully at the banner. Then, turning to Zhou Liu-lang, who was already urging his horse forward, he added, “Liu-lang, such delicious fare—your sister would surely love it. What if I invite her here for a gathering? She’d be delighted, wouldn’t she?”
Zhou Liu-lang turned back to look at him, his gaze carrying a hint of scrutiny.
“You’re not seriously interested in her, are you?” he asked.
By the time Zhou Liu-lang returned home, it was already evening, and the lamps had been lit. He went straight to Cheng Jiao-niang’s quarters.
“Young Master.”
The maid at the door curtsied nervously.
Ever since this Lady Cheng entered the household, the whole family had been in a constant state of turmoil.
On the day she arrived, the madam had been left out in the cold for half a day, the Sixth Young Master had made a public scene of shouldering a rod to apologize, and just when things seemed to settle down by nightfall, they said a servant had gone missing. For three days straight, it was nothing but chaos…
Oh, heavens above, when will we finally get some peace?
And now, the Young Master was here again. Who knows what kind of trouble he’ll stir up this time…
Fortunately, Zhou Liu-lang didn’t enter the room. He simply stood at the entrance to the courtyard, gazing at the main house.
Inside, the warm glow of lamplight revealed the silhouettes of two people sitting across from each other. They seemed to be playing chess, or perhaps engaged in lively conversation.
“You don’t need to go looking over there; she must have gone back to your house.”
“How do I know? Because I want to know, so I do. You, on the other hand, don’t want to know, and that’s why you don’t—it’s not that you couldn’t figure it out if you wanted to.”
“Liu-lang, with your sister, you need to keep your distance—distance yourself and guide her gently. Only then will she listen to you and pay attention to what you say. Otherwise, there’s no solution. Stop being so overbearing.”
Young Master Qin’s voice lingered in Zhou Liu-lang’s ears.
Zhou Liu-lang clenched his fists, turned around, and strode away.
The maids let out a sigh of relief, gave instructions for the night watch, and the rest of the servants dispersed.
Before long, another figure appeared at the courtyard gate, sneaking about cautiously, as though afraid of being seen.
“Miss, do you want to eat this? Don’t like the taste?”
“Miss, does this look right to you the way I’ve written it?”
Ban Qin stared at the shadows of the two figures reflected on the door. It was as if she were seeing scenes from the past, hearing echoes of conversations long gone.
She saw her mistress again, but the person by her side was no longer her.
Biting down on her handkerchief to stifle her sobs, Ban Qin’s vision blurred. She leaned against the cold wall, unable to bring herself to step away, even an inch.
“Who’s there?”
A maid inside the door noticed something and shouted sharply.
Startled, Ban Qin turned and stumbled away, disappearing into the night.
The maid stepped outside with a lantern and looked around, but there was no one there—only the howling wind of the winter night.
Could it be? As if human troubles weren’t enough, could something unclean be stirring up mischief too?
Shuddering, she spat repeatedly in superstition and hurried back inside, shutting the door tightly behind her.
By the time daylight filled the sky, Madam Zhou had already been seated in the hall for quite a while. At last, she saw Cheng Jiao-niang emerge from the inner room.
“Jiao Jiao, the wife of the Assistant Minister has come in person to request your help. Go and see what illness her young daughter is suffering from,” Madam Zhou said hastily.
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at her and sat down.
“How should I know?” she replied.
No formal greetings—but then again, perhaps she wasn’t even aware of such courtesies.
Madam Zhou straightened her posture.
“That’s exactly why I’m asking you to take a look,” she said kindly.
“I’m not going,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, taking the water handed to her by a maid.
“Why won’t you go?” Madam Zhou asked anxiously.
“And why should I go?” Cheng Jiao-niang countered.
“Because you can treat illnesses! You’re a divine doctor!” Madam Zhou exclaimed.
“I’m not a divine doctor. There are illnesses I can treat, and others I cannot,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, shaking her head as she slowly drank the water.
What kind of talk is that?
“Jiao Jiao.” Madam Zhou stepped closer, placing her hands on Cheng Jiao-niang’s shoulders. “Don’t be stubborn.”
Cheng Jiao-niang set down the cup.
“You’re mistaken,” she said, looking at Madam Zhou. “The one being stubborn isn’t me—it’s all of you.”
Madam Zhou opened her mouth to say more, but Cheng Jiao-niang stood up.
“My mistress has to go prepare medicine for Old Master Chen today,” the maid interjected, steadying Cheng Jiao-niang’s hand. “Please have someone ready the carriage.”
Me? Prepare the carriage?
Madam Zhou looked at the maid, momentarily speechless with frustration.
Who do they think I am?
And who does she think she is?!
But there was no way around it. What was she supposed to do—refuse to prepare the carriage? Stop her from going to treat Old Master Chen?
Stop her from treating Old Master Chen? I’m not an idiot!
“How is it?” Master Zhou paced impatiently indoors, looking up eagerly when Madam Zhou entered. “The Madam from the Wu family is still waiting—tell her to hurry up and get ready to go.”
Madam Zhou’s expression was grim.
“Hurry up? We should be thanking the heavens if she even agrees to go,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Master Zhou paused, frowning in confusion.
“She won’t go,” Madam Zhou snapped, her tone filled with frustration.
“Won’t go?” Master Zhou was even more taken aback, thinking he’d misheard. “Why won’t she go?”
“She just said no. How would I know why?” Madam Zhou replied, her voice laced with grievance. “What are we supposed to do—tie her up and drag her there?”
This was about treating an illness, not a prison sentence. Tying her up wouldn’t solve the problem.
“That insolent girl,” Master Zhou finally grasped the situation and gnashed his teeth in anger.
“I already used the excuse that she’s going to treat Old Master Chen to brush off Madam Wu. But if we’ve managed to get through today, what about tomorrow? If another madam comes seeking help, what are we supposed to do then?” Madam Zhou said, sitting down and pressing her temples, which were throbbing painfully.
Master Zhou sat down as well, just as frustrated and at a loss for words.
Indeed, this was about healing, not something else. No matter how much they yelled, scolded, or threatened her, even if they forced her to go, she could always claim she couldn’t treat the illness. And what could they do about that?
“Back then, we said bringing her into our household would be the greatest fortune. Is this what you call a fortune?” Madam Zhou pressed her head in exasperation. “Look at the Chen family—they’re already treating us with disdain. As Old Master Chen’s condition improves, her reputation will only grow. Then even more people will come knocking, and when they do, they’ll come straight to us. Once they find us, it becomes the Zhou family’s problem! If that wretched girl refuses to treat them once or twice, people will blame it all on our family in the end!”
“What do you suggest? Throw her out?” Master Zhou retorted irritably.
“Throw her out? Then what would become of our family?” Madam Zhou replied.
What would they become? Caught in a lose-lose situation, alienated from everyone!
How did it come to this?
Master Zhou’s face hardened further.
“Now, this little wretch can’t be beaten or scolded. We can only coddle her, flatter her until she’s happy, and then she’ll be willing to work for us,” he said.
“That foolish girl has turned into our little ancestor now,” Madam Zhou said with a heavy sigh, leaning against the armrest and rubbing her temple. “What kind of mess is this?”
This wasn’t what they had originally envisioned at all.
How did things turn out like this?
Where did it all go wrong?
