Zhou Liu-lang walked briskly, his stride full of purpose. Along the way, maids quickly lowered their heads to give way, watching as the young man strode off, bringing with him the chill of winter.
“Sixth Young Master seems unhappy,” someone murmured.
“Who could have upset him so early in the morning?”
“Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since he’s looked happy…”
“Judging by the direction, he must be heading to Lady Cheng’s place…”
Ban Qin stopped in her tracks, her face uneasy as she glanced in that direction.
Lady Cheng…
“Hey, hurry up! Eating for free, are you?” another maid called out impatiently.
Ban Qin quickly lowered her head, tightened her grip on the pole in her hands, and, together with the other maid, struggled to lift and carry the heavy load of laundered clothes as they made their way forward.
“Cheng Jiao-niang, are you guarding against thieves? If you don’t want to, just say so. Why did you have to upset my mother like that?” Zhou Liu-lang shouted, glaring at the woman seated before him.
“Sixth Young Master, my mistress is unwell,” the maid retorted, her brows furrowed.
“Don’t play dumb with me. Save that lie for someone else,” Zhou Liu Lang snapped.
“Cheng Jiao-niang, isn’t it just about a maid? Isn’t it just because you think we didn’t care about you? Was that really necessary?”
Looking at the lady sitting before him, especially her expressionless face, Zhou Liu-lang felt a surge of anger rise within him. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his mother’s humiliation or for some other reason.
“Any good intentions are turned into malice in your eyes. Can’t you just speak plainly? Stop being so passive-aggressive!”
“Your little bit of money—do you think it’s enough for us to covet?”
“Do you think we’re scheming against you, Cheng Jiao-niang? Have you convinced yourself you’re untouchable now? That there’s nothing to fear? Do you think the Zhou family is worthless to you now, that we’re nothing but a nuisance?”
“Cheng Jiao-niang, now that you’ve gained a reputation, you think we’re leeching off your success, trying to profit from you. But do you even realize that our family still shields you from harm? Without the protection of the family, you’d be swallowed up entirely, with not even your bones left behind!”
Cheng Jiao-niang set down the cup in her hand and looked at Zhou Liu-lang, who stood in the room, his face flushed red. It was as if she hadn’t heard a word he had just said; her expression remained unchanged.
“Who’s going to swallow me?” she asked.
Zhou Liu-lang clenched his teeth so hard they made a grinding sound.
“Keep pretending!” he spat, turning on his heel and sweeping out of the room with a flick of his sleeve.
The room fell quiet again. The maid knelt on the floor, a mix of worry and indignation on her face.
“Miss…” she began.
“It’s fine,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, her gaze drifting toward the door. “To provoke me like this—three strikes, and no more.”
Three strikes? Was she referring to the Sixth Young Master’s rude and brash behavior?
And what would happen after three strikes?
The maid hesitated for a moment, slightly puzzled.
“I want to practice my calligraphy. Bring a book and read to me,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, sweeping her sleeve as she extended her hand.
The maid quickly responded, retrieving a book from the side.
The crisp sound of reading filled the room.
In the bustling capital, the streets were lively, and though it wasn’t yet mealtime, the Immotal’s Abode was already teeming with activity.
Singing courtesans entertaining guests, vendors hawking tea and snacks, idlers joking and applauding, and the steaming heat from copper pots filled the entire hall, transforming it into a noisy yet vibrant scene reminiscent of an immortal’s abode.
The ground-floor seating was lively and boisterous, while the private rooms on the second floor were more elegant and quiet. Only when waiters came in and out with tea and wine would laughter and chatter momentarily escape through the opened doors.
Dou Qi stepped into one such private room and quickly shut the door behind him. It was a large room, with a decorative screen adorned with flowers and plants standing before him. Behind the screen, the faint silhouettes of two or three seated figures could be seen.
Dou Qi forced an even broader smile onto his face before circling around the screen. On the other side sat a man of about fifty years, with a broad face, prominent ears, a fair complexion, and a long beard. His expression carried a hint of stern authority.
“Grandfather,” he called out, taking a few steps forward before kneeling down.
Two young official courtesans seated nearby handed him a wine pot.
Dou Qi personally poured the wine and presented it respectfully.
“It’s all thanks to your mediation, Grandfather, that we were able to sell the wine,” he said.
Wine had always been government-controlled, and any sale through restaurants required paying taxes to the authorities.
The older man accepted the wine cup, his expression calm and unreadable, and responded with a simple hum.
“What kind of fine wine is this? These government-distributed ones can never compare to exclusive brews,” he remarked, taking just one sip before putting it aside. “The good wine brewed at Immortal’s Gathering Pavilion—get their recipe when the opportunity arises.”
Dou Qi was overjoyed.
“But… Immortal’s Gathering Pavilion…” he said again, worry evident in his voice.
To open a tavern and obtain permission to brew one’s own wine without a powerful connection in the government was nearly impossible.
Especially when it came to such a secret brewing recipe, worth its weight in gold—how could it be so easily obtained?
“Niu Wenqing, the Imperial Censorate Deputy, has ruined things,” the man said flatly.
Dou Qi suddenly understood.
So that was Immortal’s Gathering Pavilion’s backing. With their support gone, it was naturally time for others to step in and reap the benefits.
“Thank you, Grandfather,” he quickly said, bowing deeply.
With a benefactor and fine wine, it would be almost impossible for Immortal’s Abode not to thrive!
But if they did prosper, there were bound to be envious eyes…
“Grandfather, the matter I mentioned last time, if by chance…” Dou Qi quickly raised his head and said.
“What matter?” the man asked indifferently.
“It’s about the original owner of this ‘Passing Immortal’…” Dou Qi lowered his voice.
“The Guide General Zhou family?” the man asked, sneering dismissively. “What of it? Hardly worth mentioning.”
“But I heard their family is quite prominent these days. They’ve aligned themselves with Minister Chen and Tong Neihan, and they even have some ‘Passing Immortal’ who can bring the dead back to life…” Dou Qi murmured cautiously.
“Bring the dead back to life? An immortal?” The man laughed coldly. “Nonsense and superstition. A gentleman should steer clear of such things. It’s one thing for common gossip to run rampant, but for them to openly acknowledge such absurdities? As His Highness’s officials, blatantly propagating such tales—it’s clear the Zhou family has ulterior motives, sinister intentions. What’s next? Are they going to claim this ‘Passing Immortal’ was a divine gift, only for their use and no one else’s?”
At this, he threw the towel he was wiping his hands with onto the table with a slap.
“Let them try!” he said, a hint of greed curling his lips into a smile. “If they dare, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
Dare? How could it not be bad?
Dou Qi was puzzled.
“Bringing the dead back to life? Interesting,” the man muttered to himself, narrowing his eyes.
Since saving Tong Neihan, although the news of Cheng Jiao-niang’s illness spread in the following days, it didn’t dampen the public’s astonishment at such miraculous events, nor did it stop people from seeking medical help. However, due to Cheng Jiao-niang’s strict rules about treatment, the number of people seeking consultations did not flood in.
After all, people who are certain to die are rare, and those who can casually take out a fortune to secure a cure for death are even rarer. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
In the early morning of late winter, the quiet of the Zhou family was once again broken by noise.
“Quick, invite the divine doctor! My father is dying!”
The loud knocking on the door gave the Zhou couple a headache.
“What is this nonsense? People are always barging in with the dead carried on their backs. How unlucky can we get?” Madam Zhou complained.
Fortunately, after the Tong family barged in, the Zhou family had learned a lesson and gained some courage. No matter what name people shouted, they would no longer let anyone barge in so easily.
“What are you stopping us for? We’re not looking for you. We’re looking for Lady Cheng, move aside!” The people outside were furious, accompanied by a woman’s cries.
Madam Zhou, upon hearing this, was so angry she almost coughed.
What do they mean by saying this has nothing to do with the Zhou family? What are these people thinking!
But causing a scene in front of the door wasn’t a good look, so she had no choice but to accept the invitation and let them in.
“What’s going on? Jiao Jiao is ill,” Madam Zhou said in the courtyard, especially when she saw that the invitation was from a seemingly insignificant family, her tone became even less pleasant.
Everyone knew that Cheng Jiao-niang was ill and had called for a doctor. The visitors seemed uneasy, but before they could speak, a maid came over.
“Madam, Lady Cheng is preparing to go out in the carriage,” she said.
For a moment, everyone in the courtyard was stunned.
If she’s going out, then she isn’t really sick, right?
Madam Zhou felt a surge of frustration. Why did this always happen? It’s always at the wrong time, never before, but always when she’s being targeted.
She couldn’t understand it—ever since Cheng Jiao-niang came into the picture, it seemed like everything was being done to spite her.
“Lady Cheng, Lady Cheng.” The people on the other side quickly reacted and insisted on meeting her.
At this point, it was impossible to stop them. Madam Zhou had no choice but to have someone guide them in.
Just as they reached the second gate, they ran into them face to face.
Looking at the person being carried before her, Cheng Jiao-niang slightly lifted her hood and glanced at them.
“I can’t treat him right now. You should find someone else,” she said.
The visitors were stunned, and the Zhou family members were also taken aback.
Can’t treat him?
Why can’t she treat him now?
She said she can’t treat him, not that it was against the rules to treat him?
What does this mean?
“Miss.” The visitors quickly regained their composure and hurriedly pleaded.
“My father, he… he’s already beyond saving. Cheng Jiao-niang, please show some mercy…” they cried.
“We have money, we brought money! Ten thousand taels!” someone else shouted. “No, fifteen thousand taels, twenty thousand will do, Lady Cheng, please, save him!”
Twenty thousand!
The Zhou family members were stunned.
