Master Zhou stepped down from the carriage, his face flushed with intoxication, his steps unsteady as two maids tightly supported him.
“How did you drink so much?” Madam Zhou said, watching as the maids helped Master Zhou lie down. “Make some sobering soup, and add extra cinnamon.”
The maids acknowledged her orders and left. Madam Zhou then added a pinch of incense to the burner, dispelling the heavy smell of alcohol in the room.
“Where did you go? How did you end up drinking this much?” she asked, kneeling gracefully in front of Master Zhou.
“To Yunfeng Tower,” Master Zhou said with a drunken chuckle. “Guess who hosted the banquet?”
“Who was it?” Madam Zhou asked.
“Commander Gao from the Imperial Guard!” Master Zhou said with a laugh. “He used to look down on my family. Back then, he wouldn’t acknowledge us, even though my grandfather and his fought side by side with real steel and iron in Shan Prefecture. And now? He wants to curry favor with me, but I don’t care about him anymore!”
As he spoke, he slapped his leg triumphantly.
“He’s only coming to me because I’ve got connections with the Chen and Tong families. Too late!” he laughed, waving his hand dismissively, his laughter echoing in the room. “What does he have?”
He pointed at himself with a drunken grin.
“I have my beloved Jiao Jiao.”
Madam Zhou smiled softly, pressing her lips together as she gently pushed him to lie down.
“Yes, yes, we all know. Now that you have your beloved Jiao Jiao, we don’t need to bother with them,” she said with a laugh.
“Oh, right! I should go see my Jiao Jiao, find out what she likes, what she wants. We’ll buy it for her, buy it all! We have money—whatever she wants, we’ll get it for her, buy it!” Master Zhou said, attempting to get up.
Madam Zhou quickly reached out to steady him.
“Oh, stay still, will you? You just had a fall and haven’t recovered yet. Don’t go tumbling down again,” she chided. “Falling twice for your precious Jiao Jiao—what a joke that would be!”
Master Zhou tried to get up again but was overcome by his drunkenness. Chuckling foolishly, he soon lay back down and drifted into a deep, drunken sleep.
Meanwhile, in Cheng Jiao-niang’s quarters, everything was eerily quiet, as if no one was there.
Ever since the Tong family had carried the man away, the outside commotion seemed entirely disconnected from this place.
A maid peeked her head around the door.
“What are you doing?” Another maid inside spotted her and quickly came over, waving her hand.
“The Madam sent me to ask if she’s awake yet,” the maid outside whispered.
Though no one had specifically instructed her, she instinctively lowered her voice upon arriving. Ever since Tong Neihan had been carried out, it wasn’t just the outsiders who were shocked—everyone in their household had been utterly stunned.
Brought back from the brink of death!
When it came to the Old Master of the Chen family, they hadn’t witnessed it firsthand; while surprising, it hadn’t reached the level of awe. But this time, they had seen it with their own eyes.
Truly a divine doctor!
Truly a disciple of the immortals!
“Not yet,” the maid inside answered.
“She’s been asleep for two days?” the inquiring maid said in astonishment.
“Pulling someone back from the road to the underworld must take a great deal of effort,” the first maid mused after a moment, waving her hand dismissively. “Go on, go on.”
The inquiring maid left reluctantly, but after only a few steps, she ran straight into Zhou Liu-lang.
“She’s still not awake?” Zhou Liu-lang asked directly.
“That’s right,” the maid quickly replied. “Young Master, do you think we should call for a doctor to take a look?”
A divine doctor capable of bringing someone back from the brink of death… calling for a regular doctor?
Zhou Liu-lang’s expression turned odd.
“Call one!”
Inside the room, Young Master Qin set down the tea pestle he was holding and replied decisively.
“Call a doctor?” Zhou Liu-lang asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Yes, go and get a doctor for her immediately,” Young Master Qin said, looking at Zhou Liu-lang. “Liu-lang, excess can be as harmful as deficiency. Talk of ghosts and spirits is the chatter of fools. A true gentleman does not speak of strange powers or mysterious forces. Before this, her reputation was unknown, and idle curiosity caused people to gossip. That was fine. But after this event, Lady Cheng has gained some renown in the capital. Regardless of how the rumors spread in private, her reputation must be proper in public. Otherwise, it will not be good for her.”
Zhou Liu-lang was silent for a moment.
“I’m afraid she won’t recognize good intentions,” he said with a snort.
Young Master Qin smiled faintly, picking up the tea pestle and resuming his work of grinding a new blend of tea.
“If the intentions are good, they will always be recognized,” he said.
As the maid nodded and prepared to leave, Young Master Qin seemed to think of something else.
“She’s been asleep for two days. Make sure the doctor is called urgently,” he instructed. “There’s no need to pick a famous one. Just go to the most renowned pharmacy and bring any doctor they have. The key is to act quickly.”
The maid understood and promptly acknowledged the order.
The Zhou household servants acted swiftly. In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, a doctor was brought through the Zhou family’s gates and led to knock on Cheng Jiao-niang’s door.
“What’s going on?” A maid opened the door, her voice low and filled with clear annoyance. Her gaze swept over the maid and landed on the elderly doctor behind her. Then, her eyes shifted to Zhou Liu-lang, standing at the courtyard gate with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Miss has been asleep for so long, and the master and madam are very worried,” the maid said cautiously. “So they called a doctor to have a look.”
The maid’s eyes flickered, and she scrutinized them for a moment longer.
“Wait a moment. Let me check if Miss is awake,” she said, closing the door.
Shortly after, the door was opened again.
“Doctor, please come in,” the maid said respectfully, stepping aside to let him pass.
As the doctor entered the room, Zhou Liu-lang turned and left the courtyard without another word.
Inside the room, all the curtains were drawn, and the light was dim.
The elderly doctor was led into the bedroom and immediately caught sight of the figure of a lady lying on her side on the bed. He quickly lowered his head to avoid looking directly.
“Miss, the doctor is here to take your pulse,” the maid said, lifting the curtain and extending a hand from within.
The doctor promptly knelt and focused on the hand presented to him.
It was a small, slender hand, thin to the point of frailty. In the dim light, it appeared unusually rough for someone of her age. Astonishingly, the pads of several fingers bore faint calluses.
The doctor averted his gaze respectfully and began to take her pulse.
After a moment, he switched to her other hand. Like the right hand before, the fingers of her left hand also had thin calluses on their pads.
What kind of activity could cause calluses to form on the pads of fingers on both hands?
“Please lift the curtain; I need to observe her complexion,” the doctor said.
The maid complied and lifted the curtain.
Beneath the brocade quilt, the frail figure of a young girl was revealed. The doctor carefully examined her and nodded before the maid lowered the curtain again.
Outside, Madam Zhou had already heard the news and hurried over.
The doctor was ushered outside, and before he could even sit, Madam Zhou began questioning him anxiously.
“Madam, please lower your voice; Miss is still asleep,” the maid interjected.
“And you, you careless maid, how could you let this happen without telling me?” Madam Zhou snapped, her brows furrowed in anger. “You even said not to disturb her sleep! If something happens to my dear Jiao Jiao, can you bear the responsibility?”
The maid rolled her eyes and turned her head away, refusing to engage further.
“Doctor, how is she?” Madam Zhou asked, her eyes fixed on him.
The doctor furrowed his brows in thought.
“The young lady is fatigued and weak, short of breath, likely unable to get out of bed, and experiencing dizziness and blurred vision,” he said.
The maid nodded, her expression tense.
“Her complexion is pale and lifeless, her nails lack color, and her pulse is thin and feeble,” the doctor continued. “This is a case of deficiency in both qi and blood.”
So, she really is ill?
“But she’s supposed to be a divine doctor herself! How could she fall ill?” Madam Zhou exclaimed in shock, clearly not expecting an actual diagnosis.
A divine doctor?
The elderly doctor slowly glanced toward the bed. The draped curtain obscured his view, but he could still picture the frail girl he had just seen.
She appeared to be around fourteen or fifteen years old, pale and emaciated—a sickly look that required no pulse-check to discern.
In the past couple of days, the news about the Zhou family’s young mistress bringing someone back to life had reached the medicine shop.
It’s not uncommon for there to be certain miraculous remedies or techniques for specific ailments—like the old woman from Wulizhuang outside the city who, though she knows nothing about medicine, possesses a family recipe that can cure scabies. The doctors weren’t particularly surprised. When they heard that the Zhou family had invited a doctor, it only confirmed their suspicions.
“Doctors can’t cure everything,” the elderly doctor said slowly. “Everyone is human. We eat grains like everyone else, so naturally, we fall ill. We’re not immortals.”
The doctor emphasized his last words, deliberately casting a glance at Madam Zhou to make his point clearer.
Madam Zhou understood his meaning immediately, her brows rising in anger.
This old scoundrel, how dare he tarnish my Jiao Jiao’s reputation!
