Young Master Qin looked at Ban Qin.
“Ban Qin, you seem uneasy here. Why not leave with me?” he said suddenly.
Ban Qin bowed her head respectfully.
“Thank you, Young Master, but I do not wish to leave,” she replied.
A maid’s comings and goings were not hers to decide, and such a question from Young Master Qin was inappropriate, as was her answer.
Young Master Qin smiled faintly, while Zhou Liu-lang let out a snort.
“You can leave now,” he said.
Ban Qin bowed again, retreating with a hint of trepidation.
Nightfall enveloped the Zhou family estate. During the first month of the year, lanterns were lit everywhere, casting a festive and radiant glow.
As usual, Ban Qin stood behind a large tree outside Cheng Jiao-niang’s courtyard, her gaze fixed on the still-unlocked and open courtyard gate.
Her fingers picked absently at the tree bark as she stared blankly into the courtyard.
A lady stepped out from under the veranda, her graceful figure outlined by the interplay of light and shadow.
So that’s her… Ban Qin thought, tightening her posture.
Through the gate, she watched the maid speak, her words prompting two maids to nod respectfully and hurry toward the gate.
Ban Qin quickly ducked back behind the tree.
“What’s Ban Qin asking for so late at night?”
“Why do you care? She needs it, so just deliver it quickly!”
The two maids, laughing and chatting, walked briskly down the path. Meanwhile, the courtyard gate closed behind them, cutting off Ban Qin’s view.
She stood there in a daze for a moment longer before turning to leave. Her first step was unsteady—her feet had gone numb from the cold. Bending down, she rubbed them vigorously for quite a while until the feeling returned somewhat. Hugging her shoulders against the chill, she shivered as she ran back to her quarters.
On the way, she encountered a night-patrolling maid, who gave her a thorough once-over. By the time she reached her room, she found the door bolted from the inside.
She didn’t dare call out loudly and instead knocked cautiously. After a long wait, accompanied by a stream of curses, the door was finally opened.
The room was already dark, the lamp extinguished. As she stepped inside, she bumped into something, triggering another wave of scolding, before everything finally fell silent again.
The sun was shining brightly on a clear day when a carriage stopped as it turned a corner on the bustling street.
“First Young Master, Third Young Master,” a maid called as she lifted the curtain of the carriage and stepped down to greet them with a bow.
Fan Jianglin and Xu Maoxiu approached side by side.
“Has Jiao-niang come home?” they asked, glancing at the carriage.
No lady appeared from within the carriage.
“No, Miss asked me to deliver some food,” the maid replied with a smile.
Fan Jianglin and Xu Maoxiu nodded, smiling.
“Go back and tell her that the matter is almost settled. Now it’s just a question of when we can finalize the agreement,” Xu Maoxiu said tactfully.
In other words, when the money would come through.
The maid nodded, bowed, and took her leave.
The carriage and the men went their separate ways.
On the street, Han Yuanchao suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“Yuanchao? What’s wrong?” his companion called, turning back.
“I just saw… saw that girl,” Han Yuanchao said, his gaze trailing behind them as the carriage disappeared into a narrow alley.
“Which girl?” the companion asked.
Han Yuanchao smiled faintly and walked ahead.
“Just some girl,” he replied with a grin.
His companion chuckled and shook his head as he caught up.
The street, however, was soon in an uproar.
“Make way! Move aside!”
Amid the shouts, guards from some household brandished their staves, clearing a path with little regard.
Pedestrians scrambled to avoid them, and those struck could only consider themselves unlucky. With guards powerful enough to clear the way, their master’s status was surely high, leaving no grounds for accusing them of disturbing the peace.
“Who was that?” Han Yuanchao and his companion, pushed to the side, couldn’t help but ask.
“Out-of-towners, perhaps?” someone nearby speculated, giving the two of them a once-over. “Or maybe just scholars? If you’re in the capital, you’d better memorize the insignias of certain families!”
Han Yuanchao and his companion exchanged amused glances and chuckled.
“May we ask, sir, which noble household that is?” they inquired politely.
The elderly man, brimming with a sense of worldly knowledge, replied with some pride.
“Well, let me tell you—this is the carriage of Tong Neihan’s household,” he said. Then, as if recalling something amusing, he lowered his voice and chuckled. “That Tong Neihan must have overindulged in cinnabar again and gone mad, don’t you think?”
“Neihan,” short for Neizhi Hanlin Xueshi, referred to a prestigious scholar in the Imperial Hanlin Academy. These scholars were trusted advisors to the Emperor and responsible for drafting official decrees.
Han Yuanchao, naturally, was aware of this—and of cinnabar, too. His own family elders had used it before.
But it wasn’t something just anyone could afford.
Gold-stone alchemical substances had always been the indulgence of the wealthy and powerful.
“Three thousand taels for cinnabar,” the old man muttered, shaking his head as he sauntered away.
Such occurrences were hardly uncommon in the capital.
Han Yuanchao and his companion exchanged another glance, chuckled softly, and continued on their way.
The street soon returned to its usual bustle.
A galloping carriage came to a halt in front of a grand residence, where four or five anxious men were already waiting. Before the carriage had fully stopped, they rushed over in a chaotic flurry.
“Doctor Li! Doctor Li!” they called out loudly.
The curtain of the carriage was lifted, and a young boy hopped out first, followed by Doctor Li, who climbed down slowly, trembling slightly with age.
“Hurry, hurry!” the men urged impatiently.
“No need to rush,” Doctor Li replied calmly.
The elderly man moved at a measured pace, much to the frustration of the others, who were practically itching to carry him inside. But they didn’t dare act rashly—this was no ordinary doctor. As a senior medical officer of the Imperial Medical Institute and a Hanlin physician personally granted a purple robe by the Empress Dowager, he was someone who demanded the utmost respect.
Inside the courtyard, cries echoed loudly.
“What’s with all the crying? Don’t spread bad luck!” a man shouted from inside the house as he came storming out.
The maids in the courtyard quickly stifled their sobs, covering their mouths in fear.
Doctor Li stepped into the room, and the women inside didn’t bother retreating as custom might dictate.
“Doctor Li, please, take a look at what’s happening to my husband!” Madam Tong, the wife of Tong Neihan, tearfully implored, guiding him further inside.
As Doctor Li entered, he saw a pale, corpulent man in his late forties lying flat on a daybed. The man’s body was trembling uncontrollably, his eyes shut tight, and he let out hoarse, guttural cries with each breath.
Doctor Li didn’t approach the bed immediately; instead, his gaze swept the room. Sure enough, on a low table nearby, there was a brocade box with an overturned porcelain vial inside.
“Did he take cinnabar again?” Li asked.
“Yes, it’s from a new batch brought in from the south,” Madam Tong replied, wiping away tears. “It was of excellent quality. He had been feeling better for just a few days, and now this happened all of a sudden.”
Doctor Li let out a sharp humph.
“Didn’t I already tell you? Master Tong should avoid taking that stuff,” he said sternly.
“But, sir, it’s the only thing that helps his leg ailment. Without it, he can’t even walk,” Madam Tong said, tears brimming in her eyes.
Doctor Li shook his head, his gaze shifting back to Tong Neihan, who was still writhing on the bed, his hoarse cries growing louder and more bizarre with every passing moment.
The young assistant opened the medicine box and handed it over. Doctor Li picked out a golden needle, knelt by the daybed, and pressed down on Tong Neihan’s head with one hand while skillfully inserting the needle into his scalp with the other.
The loud, hoarse cries stopped instantly.
Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Truly a divine doctor!” murmurs of praise filtered in from outside.
“I’m no divine doctor,” Doctor Li muttered, shaking his head as he stood and looked down at Tong Neihan, whose body was still trembling on the daybed.
“You are too modest, sir, far too modest,” Madam Tong quickly said, wiping her tears.
Her sons also hurriedly bowed in gratitude.
“Don’t thank me—prepare for his funeral,” Doctor Li said bluntly.
The room instantly fell silent, followed by the sharp intake of breath from everyone present. Their faces turned pale with shock.
“Doctor Li!”
Panic erupted in the room as the stunned family tried to process his words.
“I’ve done all I can,” Doctor Li said, shaking his head. “I used the needle to let him die with some dignity. Otherwise, he would have died screaming… it’s just too tragic.” Having witnessed countless reactions to life and death, he was numb to it, then called to the young assistant, “If you want, you can try bringing in another doctor.”
The doctors from the Imperial Medical Institute had already declared him beyond saving—there was no one else to consult.
The Tong family members turned ashen at the news.
Since it was clear that their father could not be saved, the funeral arrangements were crucial and had to be handled with the utmost care. The sons of the Tong family immediately set to work, calling on elders or sending messages to relatives from other regions. In the midst of the sadness, the flurry of activity somewhat alleviated the heavy atmosphere.
Outside, the women, upon hearing the news, broke into renewed wails of grief.
“Heaven help us, sister! What are we going to do?” A few of the concubines in their twenties clung to each other, trembling in distress.
As long as Tong Neihan was alive, these beauties were provided for, with no worries about food or clothing. But if Tong Neihan were to die, they would be nothing in the family.
Madam Tong would undoubtedly sell them or give them away. Giving them away was less harsh, but some of them, who had children, couldn’t bear the thought of separation.
In an instant, they were all crying uncontrollably.
“Master is dying! Master is dying! He can’t be saved…”
Suddenly, one of the concubines sharply raised her head.
“Have you all heard?” she said with a trembling voice.
“What are you talking about at a time like this?” a maid sobbed. “Forget about others; we’re barely hanging on ourselves!”
“No, no, someone said… someone said that she doesn’t treat those not at death’s door!” the concubine said. “If Master is really a person who must die, then he can be treated!”
The others, still crying, whispered behind her, and soon, all eyes were on her.
“What are you saying? What do you mean ‘at death’s door’?”
The concubine looked into the room, biting her lip.
“Madam, Madam!” she cried as she got up and rushed in, sobbing. “Please, let’s ask another doctor to take a look at Master.”
The family members, who were discussing the funeral arrangements in the room, were startled. Seeing it was a concubine, they were even more frustrated.
“Madam, Madam, the one who met the immortal, Lady Cheng,” the concubine said hurriedly before she could be dragged out. “The one who cured the old master of the Chen family, Lady Cheng, from Jiang-zhou. She’s a disciple of Master Li, the Immortal Li! She can cure him! She said she only treats people who are destined to die!”
These rumors had reached the Tong family’s ears to some extent, but they hadn’t taken them seriously.
“Stop making trouble!” Madam Tong cried out, kneeling beside the bed, holding her husband, who was barely breathing, and sobbing uncontrollably.
“Madam, Madam, it’s true, everyone outside is talking about it! Madam, you should go try!” the concubine cried out, banging her head on the floor. “Madam, try for the master, you don’t want him to die like this, right? If someone can cure him, why not give it a try?”
After all, if the master died, she would have no good future either. Even if her words angered the madam, it wouldn’t matter much. If the master really got cured, not only would the family’s wealth be saved, but she would also gain great merit.
This remark truly enraged Madam Tong, and her sons grew even more solemn.
“Vile servant,” they shouted. “Someone, throw her out!”
“Madam, Madam, it’s Lady Cheng! She doesn’t treat just anyone. She said she only treats those who are about to die. Please, Madam, let her see the master. It will show your sincerity,” the concubine cried out, rushing forward to grab Madam Tong’s leg desperately. “If the master dies, none of us will have a good life. San-lang, Si-lang, they won’t have any help…”
These words caused the faces of the men in the room to harden.
Tong Neihan’s status was enough to secure benefits for his descendants, but only his eldest son would receive those benefits. The others would have to rely on passing the imperial exams or wait for their father to earn further achievements.
Passing the imperial exams was tough. Although Tong Neihan was a close minister of the emperor, his position wasn’t one that could easily gain merit, so the only way forward was to accumulate experience and seniority. This meant that if his younger sons failed to pass the exams, they could still benefit from the family’s accumulated prestige.
If he died like this, however, the future prospects of his sons would certainly be dimmer than if he were alive.
“That Lady Cheng, can she really cure him?” one of the sons asked.
The concubine was overjoyed and immediately kowtowed.
“Please, young master, try her!” she cried.
The son looked around at the others.
“Then go and invite her,” the eldest made the decision and said.
“Wait!” Madam Tong shouted.
Everyone hurriedly looked at her, and the concubine started crying again. The sons hesitated, wanting to persuade her.
“There are rules when it comes to medical treatment. She doesn’t just go to someone’s door for a diagnosis,” Madam Tong sobbed, slapping the side of the bed. “Quickly, take your father to her residence!”
