Zhou Liu-lang’s expression was complicated.
“Sir, there’s no need for this,” he said.
“This is all just a misunderstanding. Once the issue between you is resolved, everything will be fine,” Secretariat Editor Liu replied with a smile.
“Then my father…” Zhou Liu-lang couldn’t help but ask.
The young man was too impatient—he couldn’t hide his thoughts.
Secretariat Editor Liu hushed him.
“I’ve heard about your father’s situation. Please be patient,” he said kindly. “His Majesty is merciful. Once his anger passes, things may improve.”
Of course, if His Majesty’s anger didn’t pass, then there was nothing to be done.
Secretariat Editor Liu smiled as he watched the young man’s face flush with excitement and gratitude, then nodded.
Youth truly was something—so passionate, loyal, and bold, acting with single-minded determination. Unlike withered old men like himself, who hesitated endlessly, overthinking every move.
“Alright, take it quickly,” he said. “Go home and explain things to your family. Don’t be afraid—even if they scold or beat you, it’s for your own good…”
Before he could finish, Cheng Jiao-niang stepped forward.
“Since you own a pharmacy, perhaps we could collaborate—my medical skills in exchange for partnership,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to practice medicine in peace.”
“Hah! You’ve got quite the nerve!” Dou Qi shouted. “First, you lose Tai Ping Residence, and now you’re trying to snatch a pharmacy too? How shameless!”
Secretariat Editor Liu shot him a warning glare before turning back to Cheng Jiao-niang with a kindly expression.
“This… I fear it would be beneath you. My shop is hardly worthy…” he said.
“Then I cannot take this back,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Secretariat Editor Liu sighed as if dealing with a petulant child, his tone resigned.
“Look at this, just look at this—why must it be so difficult?” He paused, then reluctantly conceded, “Very well. Since you wish to practice medicine, you may do so at my family’s pharmacy. You may keep the fees for consultations, while the income from prescriptions and other services will go to me. With your presence, our shop’s reputation will surely flourish—if anything, I’d be the one gaining an advantage. Does this arrangement suit you?”
Of course it suited her. Earning money under the protection of a powerful patron was far better than running some lowly eatery—especially when this lady could demand tens of thousands in gold for a single consultation!
Truth be told, Secretariat Editor Liu was the one getting the short end of the stick.
“No. Since I am seeking shelter under your establishment, I shall take only what is customary by the rules,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“You stubborn child…” Secretariat Editor Liu shook his head with a sigh.
“Enough, Grandfather—your grandson here is the one taking the bigger loss!” Dou Qi grumbled from the side.
Secretariat Editor Liu let out a resigned “Hah!” and finally nodded.
“Very well. Since you insist, Lady Cheng, it would seem insincere of me to refuse. Then it’s settled.” He clapped his hands once in finality.
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed.
“Thank you,” she said, lifting her head with a faint smile. “This is truly good news.”
Secretariat Editor Liu laughed heartily in return.
“Yes, yes, truly good news indeed!” he echoed.
Good news…
Zhou Liu-lang’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the two exchange smiles.
Both were laughing now—but who could say which of them would have the last laugh?
Two swindlers! Neither any good!
He rose abruptly, flicking his sleeves in disdain.
Watching the two young people leave, Dou Qi seethed with indignation.
“Grandfather, that girl has absolutely no shame! How dare she set her sights on you!” he exclaimed.
Just like how he himself had once tearfully begged to gift Secretariat Editor Liu shares in his business – had that truly been about giving shares? About lacking familial warmth? No! It had been about finding a powerful patron!
Pah! Pah! Wait – why was he comparing himself to her? That would mean he had no shame either!
He hurriedly spat to the side and shook his head, as if to dispel the thought.
“Grandfather, she’s clearly planning to use your influence to rebuild her position,” he said. “We mustn’t let her take advantage!”
Secretariat Editor Liu carefully tucked away the medical formula that Cheng Jiao-niang had left behind – to be retrieved when she joined the pharmacy – then stroked his beard with a faint smile.
“Poor orphaned girl. No mother, abandoned by her father, estranged from her uncle, and now thwarted in love. As she said herself – if she wants to establish herself in the capital, General Guide will inevitably learn of it. And when he does…” Secretariat Editor Liu clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Well, we can imagine the consequences. The young must always seek new paths forward.”
“Oh…” Dou Qi rubbed his nose and blinked, seeming both to understand and not understand at the same time.
“So earlier, Grandfather, you deliberately lured her into bringing her medical formulas to your pharmacy with your words?” he asked.
Even as he said it, he wasn’t quite sure what he meant by his own question…
“All men naturally avoid harm and seek benefit – this is human nature. How can you call it ‘luring’?” Secretariat Editor Liu replied with an amused smile. “This girl has lived a harder life than most. She knows exactly what’s good for her, what’s not, and when to act.”
Dou Qi rubbed his nose again, thinking.
“She used Minister Chen and Tong Neihan’s influence to build Tai Ping Residence, and now she’ll use yours for the pharmacy,” he snorted. “How clever!”
“Clever calculations are nothing compared to good fortune,” Secretariat Editor Liu laughed, feeling particularly pleased with himself.
What was Tai Ping Residence, after all? Just a common eatery anyone could run. What he’d wanted from the very beginning was that life-restoring secret technique.
What? Hadn’t the secret technique already been delivered into his hands?
Ridiculous! Would you really dare to accept something just handed to you?
If you truly wanted to take it, it had to be done out of necessity, clearly explained before the eyes of the world.
For example – the woman practices medicine in his pharmacy (though few would know it was his). When her reputation peaks, some misfortune might befall her – a fire perhaps, or bandits. However it happened, the beauty would meet an untimely end. But fortunately, she’d already taken disciples, allowing her secrets to live on.
From then on, the technique would no longer bear the Cheng name, but would pass into Liu’s hands. Only then could they be truly accepted.
With such techniques in his possession, who in the official circles would dare cross him? Like adding wings to a tiger – truly, like adding wings to a tiger!
Secretariat Editor Liu felt an uncontainable surge of excitement rising in his chest, so intense that he nearly burst into roaring laughter.
A bright, ringing laugh suddenly echoed from the side chamber all the way to the main hall, startling the clerks who turned their heads in surprise.
Who was that? Laughing so boldly?
Secretariat Editor Liu abruptly covered his mouth with his hand, cutting off the laughter mid-peal. His face froze in shock.
What… had he just… done?
Laughed? Out loud?
How was that possible?
By his reckoning, it had been over a decade since he’d last laughed aloud—it had become an ingrained habit, a second nature to restrain such outbursts.
And having such deeply rooted habits broken was never a good sign!
Clearly, he’d grown far too careless lately!
“Congratulations, Grandfather! Your wish has finally come true!”
Beside him, Dou Qi didn’t understand why Secretariat Editor Liu had suddenly stiffened as if seeing a ghost, but he recognized the reason for the initial laughter and quickly offered fawning felicitations.
“Congratulations my foot!” Secretariat Editor Liu snapped, shoving him aside as he strode out of the room.
When the seven-character plaque was hung on the screen frame, Xu Maoxiu and the others still hadn’t returned. Though Young Master Qin said everything was fine—no further beatings, just poorer food and drink—this did little to ease the growing unease in the maid’s heart.
Yet other matters progressed swiftly. Tai Ping Residence’s official transfer was completed with the authorities, while over at Yichun Hall, the manager came in person to extend an invitation, putting on quite the show of courtesy.
“Lady Cheng seems to be in quite the hurry,” Dou Qi remarked, eyeing the contract stamped with a vivid red seal, his own name prominently displayed. A surge of satisfaction washed over him.
Hmph! It was our family’s ancestral property to begin with. After going full circle, it’s come back even more valuable.
Gazing at the lady who had caused him so much trouble, and knowing her days were numbered, his heart swelled with glee and triumph. Unable to resist, he couldn’t help but taunt her.
“Even the toughest men cannot endure prolonged imprisonment, and those men once showed me kindness,” Cheng Jiao-niang said calmly.
Dou Qi let out a derisive snort.
Such noble words!
“Truth be told, you are rushing to secure a powerful patron before General Guide returns, aren’t you?” he laughed mockingly.
“You’re half right,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, giving him a measured glance.
“Miss, let’s go check on Li Dashao’s injuries,” her maid interjected, shooting Dou Qi a look of undisguised distaste.
“Indeed, the sooner he recovers, the better,” Dou Qi continued with false joviality. “I’m magnanimous enough to let bygones be bygones—all those cooks and waiters can keep their jobs. Tell him not to worry.” His laughter rang hollow.
Yesterday, Li Dashao couple had moved back to their own home, but Ah-Song remained visibly uneasy.
“Why are you so worried?” Li Dashao asked his wife, who kept sighing and fidgeting restlessly. “Calling us back means the trouble is over—we’re safe now. Shouldn’t that put your mind at ease?”
Ah-Song sat down, gently helping Li Dashao exercise his injured hand while sighing again.
“But today, when I went to Tai Ping Residence to fetch our things, I overheard some whispers…” she said in a hushed voice before trailing off, her expression troubled.
“Don’t dwell on gossip. Miss will make sure everything’s taken care of,” Li Dashao reassured her.
Ah-Song looked at him and sighed.
“Yes, ‘taken care of’… Sometimes, letting go is also a way of being ‘taken care of,'” she murmured under her breath.
Li Dashao’s hand jerked involuntarily, yanking back from his wife’s grasp. The sudden movement sent sharp pain shooting through him, twisting his face into a grimace.
“How could they just abandon it? This was something Miss specifically established for Benefactor Han’s sake!” he exclaimed urgently.
Ah-Song shook her head helplessly.
“When it comes down to it, no one matters more than ourselves,” she said quietly.
Li Dashao slumped into his seat.
“Who did they give it to?” he asked dully.
A moment of silence passed before his wife replied.
“Who else could it be?” she said. “Dou Qi.”
Li Dashao shot to his feet, his chest heaving violently. He stared down at his right hand—still securely bandaged—yet in his mind’s eye, he saw only mangled flesh, a severed limb.
With a sudden roar, he raised his hand and swung it down toward the nearby table, intent on smashing it to pieces.
Only Ah-Song’s quick reflexes saved him. Having sensed his rising agitation, she threw herself forward and caught his arm just in time.
“Have you gone mad?” she cried.
“What’s the use of keeping it? What’s the use?” His voice trembled with rage and despair. “Didn’t it still end up like this? Didn’t it?”
“Of course not! Of course not!” she sobbed. “With this skill, we still have other options. We’ll find another establishment, another place—”
“Another establishment?” Li Dashao let out a hollow laugh. “Another place? If refusing to work for him got my hand chopped off, who else would dare take me in?”
For a long moment, Ah-Song could only stare blankly. Then the husband and wife collapsed into each other’s arms, weeping bitterly.
“Oh dear, what’s happened here?”
A crisp female voice rang out from outside, startling the couple into looking up. Through their tear-blurred vision, they saw a maid peering in from the doorway.
The scene felt hauntingly familiar—hadn’t this happened once before, long ago?
“I almost thought I’d remembered wrong! Sister Ah-Song, you haven’t forgotten me, have you?”
The lively maid entered with quick, light steps, her face bright with smiles.
But would things unfold the same way as last time?
“Is the hand causing much pain?” the maid asked.
Li Dashao and Ah-Song scrambled to their feet, hastily wiping their tears as they moved forward—only then noticing Cheng Jiao-niang standing behind the maid.
“Miss, Ban Qin, what brings you here?” they asked in flustered surprise.
“It’s time to change the dressing,” Cheng Jiao-niang said calmly, her expression unreadable as she observed them.
“Sister Ah-Song, have you forgotten?” The maid covered her mouth with a light laugh.
The couple stood frozen, staring at the two ladies before them.
Yes—they truly had forgotten. Yet against all odds, Miss had remembered. Especially now, of all times… she’d remembered such an insignificant little thing.
“Miss.” Li Dashao stepped forward, taking a deep breath before asking, “Have you truly given up on Tai Ping Residence?”
“Of course not,” Cheng Jiaoniang replied.
Her answer came so swiftly…
It must be either perfunctory or meant to comfort them.
“Miss, please don’t hide the truth from us any longer,” Li Dashao said, lowering his head with a bitter smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“My words aren’t meant to comfort,” she said. “It’s simply that some people choose to find solace in them.”
At the break of dawn, a panicked figure came rushing into Madam Zhou’s courtyard, sending the maids clearing the breakfast dishes scrambling out of the way.
“Mother! Mother! Something terrible has happened!”
Two or three young men burst into the hall shouting.
Madam Zhou, who had just finished her meal and was being served medicine by her maid, choked in surprise. Coughing violently, she pointed at the intruders with a flushed face, momentarily speechless.
“What are you doing?” cried her two daughters who had been keeping her company. “You’re frightening Mother!”
After much commotion, Madam Zhou finally caught her breath.
“Is it about your father?” she asked urgently, waving away the water a maid offered.
“No,” the sons replied sheepishly. “It’s… it’s about that fool…”
Madam Zhou froze momentarily before flying into a rage. Snatching a teacup, she hurled it at them.
“What about that fool? Have you all lost your minds too? Barging in here to give me a fright!” she scolded.
“Mother! Mother!” they dodged while explaining hastily, “That fool has gone to Yichun Hall to practice medicine!”
What?!
Madam Zhou caught her breath and straightened up.
“Yes, yes! We saw it ourselves just now on the street—firecrackers booming, Yichun Hall’s grand new sign already hung high! ‘The Divine Doctor, Restorer of Life from Death’ it says! The whole street was packed with onlookers, what a spectacle!” her sons babbled in haste.
Madam Zhou could practically see the scene: firecrackers popping, colorful banners fluttering, crowds murmuring with envy and flattery—and that girl undoubtedly wearing a smug expression.
Of all times!
When the Zhou family faced such dire straits! When everyone should be grieving, worrying, unable to eat or sleep!
And she dared to—
“That shameless creature!” Madam Zhou spat venomously. “She sees our family faltering and scurries off to secure her own livelihood!”
Suddenly whirling around, she demanded:
“Where’s Liu-lang? Did he know about this? Has he sneaked out to cheer her on?” Her eyebrows shot up like drawn swords.
“No, no!” the servants hurried to explain. “The Sixth Young Master hasn’t left the house these past days, staying properly at home.”
“Then what has he been doing?” Madam Zhou thundered.
Zhou Liu-lang set down his brush, and the maid beside him peeked over curiously.
“Nine,” she read aloud, then smiled as a thought struck her. “Does it mean ‘all things return to one’* in the end? The master will likely arrive in the capital by tomorrow evening.”
Zhou Liu-lang shook his head silently.
“Do you wish to do anything else?” The maid cleared the writing desk and glanced at the youth standing by the window before asking again.
Confined to the house, he had already read his books and practiced his calligraphy—would he perhaps head to the training grounds to practice martial arts?
With his back still turned, the young man slowly uttered a single word:
“Wait.”
At this moment, Secretariat Editor Liu had already finished his morning’s official duties.
He set down his brush, rubbing his slightly strained eyes, and let out a relaxed sigh.
A clerk brought in tea.
“Master, why do you seem displeased today?” the attendant remarked casually.
Secretariat Editor Liu looked up at him, instinctively touching his own face.
“Do I seem displeased today?” he countered, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
Though his expression remained as amiable as ever, there was an unmistakable strain beneath the surface.
The attendant chuckled.
“You work too hard. You should delegate some tasks to others,” he said with a smile. “After all, You are meant for greater things.”
Greater things…
That ‘greater thing’ would mean becoming a Minister, wouldn’t it?
Within the entire Ministry of Personnel, that is the only true ‘greater thing.’
Secretariat Editor Liu felt a burst of laughter surge violently in his chest, threatening to erupt—Not yet, not yet. Until the official appointment is in hand, it cannot be treated as real.
His hand gripping the teacup trembled with bulging veins, and it took a long moment for him to calm down.
By the time he thought of a response, it was too late—the attendant had already left.
Secretariat Editor Liu exhaled in relief, leaning back against the armrest as his heart pounded loudly.
Outside, the lively chatter and laughter continued. Located near the Council of State and the Imperial Archives, this area bustled with officials coming and going—the most vibrant spot around.
Unconsciously, Secretariat Editor Liu pricked up his ears. Sure enough, the conversations outside had once again turned to Chen Shao’s matter. There was no need for further speculation—it was practically settled, meaning the vacancy for the Vice-Minister of Personnel position was also confirmed…
“…It’s bound to be Secretariat Editor Liu…”
The words drifted in, but unlike previous occasions, he didn’t feel the same surge of excitement. After all, he had made his own discreet inquiries—this rumor wasn’t entirely baseless.
It wasn’t arrogance. Decades of meticulous effort had led to this moment—surely, his time had come.
He had the connections, the seniority, the reputation—if not him, then who else could it be?
And if someone did somehow leapfrog over him… well, he’d make sure they regretted it. Sooner or later, he’d find an excuse to have them exiled far from the capital.
Secretariat Editor Liu clenched his jaw unconsciously, muttering under his breath—only snapping back to reality when the pressure made his teeth ache. Hastily, he took another sip of tea. It had gone cold. Outside, the cheerful banter continued unabated.
Secretariat Editor Liu rose and stepped outside.
The corridor leading to the Council of State was the coolest spot around, making it a popular gathering place during summer heat. When the officials noticed Secretariat Editor Liu emerge—ever the well-liked figure—they all greeted him with cheerful banter.
“…Master, come join us over here…”
“…What did you eat today? Why not come out with us instead of always nibbling on pickles and rice porridge…”
“…Don’t worry about paying us back—we’ll treat you!”
Known for his amiable nature and ability to take a joke, Secretariat Editor Liu simply smiled and let them tease him, never standing on ceremony.
Amid the laughter and idle chatter, the rhythmic tap-thud of a walking stick suddenly sounded. From the direction of the Historiography Bureau, a young man appeared, leaning on crutches with a servant supporting his arm.
The youth was strikingly handsome, his demeanor elegant—but the crutches under his arms marred the sight like an inkblot staining a pristine landscape painting.
“That crippled Qin boy has been coming around here a lot lately…”
“He’s been asking about General Guide…”
“Seems he’s friends with that idiot Zhou family’s son…”
Ah, so that was it. And of course it would be.
Secretariat Editor Liu gave a mental nod, though his expression remained unchanged. He’d long known about the friendship between the Zhou and Qin boys—it was within his calculations, nothing surprising.
In fact, it would’ve been stranger if he hadn’t come.
But what could their inquiries achieve? The case was airtight, and with the Emperor still furious, no one would stick their neck out unless it were for their own kin. Who’d be foolish enough to invite trouble?
Well, there was one way—if the investigator chose to drop the matter, pinning it on some scapegoat from back then to wrap things up. But would he?
I certainly wouldn’t.
A faint smile played on Secretariat Editor Liu’s lips. So, that old fool Zhou had to be driven out of the capital—no question about it, and no doubt it would happen.
Today, that Jiang-zhou fool would take up her post at Yichun Hall, Tai Ping Residence had already become his private asset, and Tai Ping Tofu would no longer bear the Cheng name. In one stroke, he’d uprooted them all, leaving them bankrupt—how exhilarating! And what a warning it served to those scheming little rats hiding in the shadows: Some people are not to be crossed!
And now, on top of it all, this likely promotion… Truly, everything was falling into place. One piece of good news after another.
“Look, he’s coming over.”
“Of course he is—with so many of us here, how could he resist?”
A few whispered jokes were exchanged as they watched this Qin Shi’san stop before them.
“Young Master,” the group greeted in unison.
Young Master Qin smiled and bowed, then turned his gaze to Secretariat Editor Liu with enthusiastic warmth.
“Secretariat Editor Liu,” he said, tapping his crutches rhythmically as he approached.
Secretariat Editor Liu hastily reached out to steady him.
“Young Master, come sit here for a while,” he said kindly, his voice full of concern.
But Young Master Qin only laughed and linked arms with him instead.
“Secretariat Editor Liu—congratulations,” he suddenly declared.
Congratulations…
This little cripple had come from his father’s office—the very place where the rumor was said to have originated…
Could it truly be settled?
Secretariat Editor Liu’s heart skipped a beat, then began racing wildly.
“What cause for celebration?” he demurred with a wave of his hand, laughing. “You all insist on teasing me—I dare not hope, I dare not!”
Before his words faded, a shout came from afar.
“Secretariat Editor Liu! Is Secretariat Editor Liu here?”
The chatter around them ceased abruptly as everyone turned toward the voice. A clerk was hurrying over from the direction of the Imperial Archives’ main office, waving urgently.
“Secretariat Editor Liu, the Chief Examiner requests your presence—quickly, quickly!” he called out cheerfully, cupping his hands in salute from a distance.
The Chief Examiner!
The Imperial Archives’ Chief Examiner was summoning him! For what? Their daily duties had no overlap requiring such a summons—unless it was a personnel matter… and one involving him personally…
Secretariat Editor Liu’s ears began to ring, a dull buzzing filling his skull.
“Master, fortune has arrived!” Young Master Qin suddenly gave his arm a heavy slap, laughing loudly right by his ear.
Fortune has arrived!
He was about to become Vice-Minister!
He was Vice-Minister now!
A “Ha!” burst uncontrollably from Secretariat Editor Liu’s lips. His chest heaved as if tidal waves were surging upward, his vision blurring at the edges. The world around him dissolved into chaotic noise—voices speaking, but none intelligible.
He wanted to laugh uproariously, but as the sound escaped, he remembered: No, he mustn’t. Never let others see his true emotions.
He raised a hand, intending to press it to his chest and suppress the churning excitement.
Yet instead, his hands moved of their own accord—clapping together sharply.
“Ha! Ha!” he shouted. “I am Vice-Minister! I am Vice-Minister now!”
Before the words fully left his mouth, his legs gave way, sending him crashing to the ground. Still, he kept clapping and laughing uncontrollably.
The crowd erupted into pandemonium.
Translator’s Notes:
*The phrase “all things return to one” (九九归一) is rich with symbolic meaning rooted in Chinese philosophy and numerology.
Nine (九): In Chinese culture, nine is the highest single-digit number and often symbolizes completeness, ultimate yang energy (阳), and the peak of a cycle.
Returning to one (归一): This means coming back to the origin, the source, or unity. It represents the end of a cycle and the start of a new one.
Combined: The phrase suggests a full cycle of transformation or evolution—after reaching the peak (nine), everything returns to unity (one), implying renewal, rebirth, or the cyclical nature of existence.
