Dou Qi’s wailing kept coming from inside the house.
“Grandfather, make them die, make them die right now!” he shouted, and with a sudden movement that pulled on his arm, he let out another scream of pain. “My arm! Ah, my arm!”
“Enough, don’t worry about them for now. The most important thing is your arm,” said Secretariat Editor Liu.
The womenfolk in the room began to weep even more upon hearing this.
“Thank you for your concern, Grandfather,” they said one after another, kowtowing as they spoke.
“My arm is ruined! My arm is ruined!” Dou Qi continued to cry and scream.
“As long as I’m here, it won’t be ruined!” Secretariat Editor Liu snapped, clearly annoyed. He paid no further attention to Dou Qi’s wailing and turned to walk a few steps in the other direction.
Over there, a middle-aged man was holding up a piece of paper, his expression agitated, his whole face practically pressed up against it.
“Doctor Zhan, how is it?” Secretariat Editor Liu asked.
“Marvelous, truly marvelous,” Doctor Zhan said excitedly, carefully cradling the piece of paper. “To think there’s such a method—such a method! Why didn’t I think of this before?”
“Speak properly,” Secretariat Editor Liu cut him off sternly. “Can it be used or not?”
Doctor Zhan snapped back to his senses.
“The ingredients used in this method have never been applied in this way before, so we won’t know the actual effectiveness until we try it,” he said.
“Then try it,” said Secretariat Editor Liu. “That’s exactly why I brought you here.”
Doctor Zhan hurriedly responded, “Yes, yes!”
“Someone, someone—go fetch the medicine…” he called out.
Halfway through his shout, he was kicked by Secretariat Editor Liu.
“You think you can let someone else handle something like this?” Secretariat Editor Liu said with a frown.
Doctor Zhan quickly came to his senses and apologized.
“Rest assured, my lord, I’ll go personally. I’ll handle everything thoroughly and discreetly,” he said in a low voice. After a moment of hesitation, he carefully handed over the paper. “Master, please keep this safe.”
Secretariat Editor Liu looked at the paper being offered, but didn’t take it.
“This—there’s no problem with it, is there?” he suddenly asked.
This?
Doctor Zhan looked down at the paper in his hand. Problem? What problem?
“I smell a bit of fragrance,” Secretariat Editor Liu said.
Doctor Zhan understood instantly.
Someone could have tampered with writing paper—once, a man had sent a scroll to his enemy, lacing the ink with poison. After the enemy read it, the poison took effect and killed him.
He hurriedly examined the paper in his hands again with great care.
“Master, there’s no problem. My medical skills may be average, but I come from a background in pharmacology. There’s no poison in this world that could escape my eyes,” he said confidently. As he spoke, he sniffed the letter paper again—it did indeed carry a faint fragrance. “This is probably due to a scented sachet, or perhaps it’s a kind of pine-scented ink.”
“I already threw that sachet away,” said Secretariat Editor Liu.
“You were right to be cautious,” Doctor Zhan quickly praised.
Better to be cautious. Secretariat Editor Liu nodded.
“Just leave it there,” he said, still not reaching out to take it. “Go and get everything ready to treat the injury.”
These most ruthless people are often also the most afraid of death.
Doctor Zhan curled his lip inwardly but said nothing, bowing his head and quickly turning to leave.
After the doctor left, another person came in.
“Master, I’ve found everything out,” he said in a low voice.
Secretariat Editor Liu straightened his sleeves and knelt down in a formal seated position.
“Speak,” he said.
It was true that Cheng Jiao-niang and Zhou Liu-lang had gone to the Immortal’s Abode, and they had even given directions on how to make ‘Passing Immortal’ right.
It was also true that Cheng Jiao-niang didn’t get along with the Zhou family.
Back when she cured Old Master Chen, she outright refused to return to the Zhou household and instead established a separate residence of her own.
Later, Zhou Liu-lang staged a carriage robbery in front of the Chen family’s gate, which greatly angered them. Since then, the two families had cut ties, and the Chen family only received Lady Cheng alone.
In the Zhou household, Cheng Jiao-niang was picky with food and clothing, repeatedly putting Madam Zhou in difficult positions. She took all the credit for good deeds and pushed all troubles onto the Zhou family, stirring up so much trouble that the entire household was left in chaos.
She was eventually driven out by Madam Zhou…
Accompanied by Dou Qi’s wailing and cursing from the room next door—now loud, now low—Secretariat Editor Liu listened as his trusted aide reported everything one by one. When it reached this point, he couldn’t help but interrupt.
“Driven out?” he asked. “When? And for what reason?”
“Right around the time when the Tai Ping Residence was first established,” the aide replied, the smile on his face somewhat strange. “It was because that Lady Cheng and Zhou Liu-lang had secretly exchanged affections…”
Secretariat Editor Liu let out a hearty laugh.
“Ah, the passions of youth,” he said.
That day, the young man hadn’t said much, keeping a stiff expression the whole time. But when he looked at the girl, the affection in his eyes and brows—he might not have even realized it himself, but it hadn’t escaped the eyes of an old man like Secretariat Editor Liu.
So, could it be that this whole matter had really been set in motion by those two youngsters acting on their own?
Judging by their words and actions, they truly were impulsive, stubborn, and reckless as young people often are.
If Master Zhou were to come back and find out that he had been dragged into this mess by two of the youngest in his household—wouldn’t he be furious enough to die of rage?
“Master Liu, my uncle is about to return. If he finds out all this trouble was caused by me, I’ll be sent back to Jiang-zhou. I’ve only just managed to gain a foothold in the capital—I don’t want to see everything vanish like smoke.”
Secretariat Editor Liu nodded with a smile.
This fool wasn’t so foolish after all.
It’s just that her temper was too stubborn. Look at her—even when asking for help, she didn’t have the attitude of someone making a request. Instead, she was arrogant and proud. Ah, youth—it needs to be tempered.
“And one more thing,” the aide stepped forward again and said in a low voice, “The mysterious figure that Lady Cheng reportedly encountered—the one the Chen family has been trying to track down—seems to have been found.”
“Really?” Secretariat Editor Liu asked, a little surprised.
“Details are unclear. The Chen family is being very secretive,” the aide replied.
That didn’t matter. What mattered was that it further validated the origins of the techniques in Cheng Jiao-niang’s hands.
Now, it all came down to whether those techniques were genuine.
If they were fake, then it meant the two youths and the Zhou family were just playing for time. Secretariat Editor Liu had long anticipated this and had countermeasures in place—nothing to worry about.
But if they were real, all the better. He would make sure to grant them a swift end, sparing them the fear and suffering of exile, the long journey to the frontier, and the fate of the women being forced into military brothels.
People who knew how to recognize the truly formidable ones—they deserved a bit of mercy, didn’t they?
Cheng Jiao-niang reached out and grabbed Li Dashao’s injured right hand, giving it a firm tug.
Everyone around felt a tingling itch spread through their bodies, their teeth ached, and they instinctively drew in a sharp breath, quickly averting their eyes.
“Does it hurt?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Li Dashao’s eyes reddened, and he choked back a sob as he nodded.
“It hurts,” he said.
Ah-Song, who had already cried herself dry over the past few days, wiped her tears again from the side.
It hurts—good. If it hurts, that means it’s alive.
“After three days, when the medicine is changed again, even if it hurts, you still have to move your hand,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, standing up and stepping aside.
Li Dashao and Ah-Song knelt and bowed deeply to the ground.
“Masters…” Li Dashao lifted his head again, choking with emotion. “It was all my fault, the trouble came because of me. I shouldn’t have kept it from the master back then…”
“You don’t need to blame yourself for that,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, turning her head. “Misfortune and blessing have always come hand in hand.”
“Miss, that Dou Qi has Secretariat Editor Liu backing him. With what the masters did, how could Dou Qi possibly take it lying down? I’ve heard that once someone ends up in the main prison of the magistrate, it’s as good as a death sentence,” Li Dashao said with a trembling voice. “What should we do?”
“Yes, please don’t worry about us anymore. Think of a way to save the masters,” Ah-Song wept as she spoke.
“There’s nothing I can do in the prison—I’m of no help there,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “Naturally, I should do what I can do—like treating wounds and healing the sick.”
No help? She said it so cleanly, so decisively?
Li Dashao and Ah-Song looked up in surprise, watching the lady walk away.
“In the end… it’s because she’s not related to them by blood…” Ah-Song murmured.
She was, after all, a young lady from an official’s household. If things went wrong, she had a way out—make some arrangements, hand over a few scapegoats, and she could go home.
“Living… really is hard,” Li Dashao murmured too, lowering his head to look at his hand.
He only hoped this was a nightmare—and when he woke, the skies would be clear again.
As the night faded and the sun rose, a new day began.
Secretariat Editor Liu set down the scroll in his hands, his expression now tinged with urgency as he looked at the Doctor Zhan entering the room.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Master—it’s truly divine technique!” Doctor Zhan’s eyes were bloodshot, his face full of excitement.
“It worked?” Secretariat Editor Liu asked, unable to conceal a trace of delight.
Although he had anticipated they wouldn’t dare bring something fake, he was in the habit of approaching things with skepticism.
“It worked. We were busy until past midnight. By this morning, it had already been set properly,” the aide said from the side.
“So it’s attached?” Secretariat Editor Liu asked again, turning his eyes to Doctor Zhan.
Doctor Zhan nodded vigorously.
“Sensation has returned. Though it will take time to fully heal, the arm is saved,” he said excitedly.
Secretariat Editor Liu had always had confidence in Doctor Zhan’s skill.
“Then this secret technique is real, after all,” he said.
“Yes, yes!” Doctor Zhan nodded repeatedly.
Both their gazes fell on the table.
The sheet of paper with the secret technique lay quietly upon it.
“I wonder just how miraculous this life-restoring method truly is,” Doctor Zhan said instinctively, the envy in his eyes barely concealed.
“We’ll know once we test it,” Secretariat Editor Liu replied.
Doctor Zhan looked up at him.
“Master, we could randomly pull someone from the prison to test it. After the test, we simply dispose of them—no risk of any leaks,” he said.
Secretariat Editor Liu nodded.
“Then I’ll trouble you to take care of it first,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.
Doctor Zhan was overjoyed and quickly responded, reaching out to grab the secret technique paper from the table and turning to leave.
But why did he say “first”? Could it be that Secretariat Editor Liu was going to do it himself as well?
“Master…” Doctor Zhan couldn’t help but turn back to speak, but someone suddenly pressed close beside him, a coldness at his neck.
Doctor Zhan’s eyes instantly widened. He grabbed his neck, gasping and choking. The aide released his grip, and Doctor Zhan collapsed backward, blood instantly soaking the seat cushion.
Secretariat Editor Liu stood up, covering his mouth and nose with an old blue handkerchief as he bent down to pick up the fallen paper. He looked at Doctor Zhan, who was still twitching on the ground.
“You know that only the dead won’t reveal secrets,” Secretariat Editor Liu said slowly. “But you’ve served your purpose. Carrying such a secret technique to meet the King of Hell, I suppose you’ll make quite a name for yourself in the underworld. That’s not so bad either.”
Doctor Zhan twitched twice more, eyes wide open, then stopped moving.
“Such a pity—to be robbed and killed like this,” Secretariat Editor Liu said, covering Doctor Zhan’s eyes with his hand and sighing. “He was the pillar of his family. Now that he’s gone, how will the orphans and widows survive? After all, he was our pharmacy’s doctor. You all should help support them, don’t let anyone bully them. And threaten the relatives too—don’t let them seize his wife and children’s property.”
The aide nodded in agreement.
Secretariat Editor Liu then stood up, shook the paper in his hand to remove dust, tucked it inside his clothing, and with his usual gentle expression, strode out.
Cheng Jiao-niang picked up her brush and wrote a large character “二” (two) on the paper, then put down the brush.
“Today, Xu San-lang and the others received twenty strokes of the cane,” Young Master Qin said.
The maid standing nearby looked very displeased.
“Young Master Qin, Third Young Master once suffered from a serious illness and has only recovered for less than a year,” she couldn’t help but say. “I’m afraid if he endures this punishment a few more times, he won’t be able to take it.”
Young Master Qin’s gaze fell on the wall, where a paper was hanging with the single character “公” (justice) written on it.
The maid shook the newly written paper and then hung it up.
One, two…
Two days have passed…
“Secretariat Editor Liu is cautious. I dare not make it too obvious, lest we alert the enemy. So wounds to the flesh are unavoidable, but it won’t threaten life,” Young Master Qin said.
“Just getting through these two days will be enough,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
If no one interferes, these two days would be enough for the Maoyuan Mountain brothers to die several times over.
“You mean Secretariat Editor Liu trusts you?” Young Master Qin asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly and shook her head.
“He doesn’t trust me,” she said. “He trusts himself.”
