Jiao Niang’s Medical Record Chapter 286

The weather was somewhat gloomy. A few men in the military camp looked up at the sky and frowned slightly.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow and delay our departure.”

“If we’re held up for a few more days, some will rejoice while others will fret.”

As they spoke, a burst of noise erupted in the distance, accompanied by cheers and applause.

Frowning, they turned to look and saw a group of soldiers gathered together, watching something.

“…What marksmanship!”

“…If this were on the battlefield, he could take down ten men single-handedly…”

Amid the surrounding praise and admiration, Xu Bangchui swelled with pride.

“‘If’? Your grandpa here has done it before! That’s how I earned my merit back then… That bastard even tried to steal credit from me, but one shot from grandpa here scared him so bad he fell to his death…”

Xu Bangchui was in the middle of his lively boasting when someone outside barked:

“What’s going on here?”

The men jumped in surprise and quickly turned around to see Liu Kui glaring at them.

General Liu had leveraged his recent merit in capturing deserters—his family had raised such a fuss in the court that no one could stand it, so his request to be sent to the northwest was approved.

Though he was only a minor general, he belonged to the Two Divisions and Three Commands, giving him a far higher status than these ordinary soldiers.

Immediately, the men saluted and retreated.

“This is the Imperial Camp!” Liu Kui bellowed, glaring especially at Xu Bangchui. “If you want to show off, go to the streets!”

Xu Bangchui snorted, slung his bow over his shoulder, and lowered his head to follow the others as they dispersed.

“Halt!” Liu Kui called after him. “Leave the bow and arrows here.”

Xu Bangchui’s eyes widened.

“What?” he shouted.

“Has the army not issued you a bow? Who allowed you to use this one?” Liu Kui barked. “Privately arming yourself violates military discipline. Hand it over.”

This three-draw bow was now Xu Bangchui’s most prized possession—he even slept with it. Though reckless, he wasn’t a fool. He understood Liu Kui’s intent just from his tone, let alone the man’s wolfish, green-eyed glare, as if staring at a fat sheep after days of starvation.

“Pah!” Xu spat. “Never heard of banning good weapons. Since when do men complain about saving the army coin?”

“Good weapons? In your hands, they’re wasted!” Liu Kui roared. “Hand it over! My word is law here. Dare you defy your superior? Such insolence! Who would ever trust you with duty? You’re not even fit for labor!”

Insolence toward superiors. Unfit for service.

These were heavy accusations for a mere foot soldier.

After arriving at the Imperial Camp yesterday, Xu Maoxiu had privately counseled his brothers. Their return to the army was meant to redeem their honor and earn merit.

But to earn merit, they needed to see battle—and whether they fought or guarded the rear depended entirely on their officers’ favor.

If branded insubordinate and defiant, no commander would dare use them.

Xu Bangchui stood rooted to the spot, eyes blazing with defiance.

Liu Kui’s face was a mix of smug triumph and barely contained excitement, his fingers practically itching to seize the bow. Even without looking—hell, he could smell it—he knew this was a Qing-zhou longbow, a three-draw beast of a weapon. From the moment it was forged, it had radiated a bloodthirsty ferocity, like a caged tiger finally unleashed.

A treasure like this? Of course his family owned a few—but none that he was deemed worthy to wield.

And if even he wasn’t qualified, what right did these worthless deserters have to flaunt them, one for each like they were handing out damn cabbages?

Come on, come on… His pulse thrummed. Drop into your true master’s hands already.

“Shameful. Can’t afford your own gear, so you resort to stealing?”

A voice cut through the tension from the sidelines.

“If you’ll snatch a man’s weapons, what won’t you take? Who’d dare trust someone like you?”

Liu Kui spun around as if stung.

“Which bastard’s flapping his—” His shout died mid-curse, his eyes bulging at the sight of five or six men on horseback.

Though he belonged to the Two Divisions and Three Commands, these were commanders of the Palace Command—and despite their youth compared to him, rank left no room for defiance.

“General Liu, what impressive authority you wield,” Zhou Liu-lang remarked coolly, looking down at Liu Kui from horseback.

Liu Kui offered a stiff, reluctant salute.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he muttered before turning away.

“That’s a fine bow—and your archery isn’t half bad,” one of the other officers said to Xu Bangchui.

Grinning ear to ear at the praise, Xu barely had time to bask before Zhou Liu-lang cut in with a frosty tone:

“A fine bow doesn’t exist for you to show off in camp.”

Xu Bangchui’s smile vanished.

“Ten cheers here mean less than a single enemy’s scream on the battlefield,” Zhou Liu-lang continued. “Even I, who’ve never fought, know that. Hard to believe you call yourself a soldier.”

With that, he urged his horse forward. The others chuckled, casting amused glances at Xu before riding off.

Xu’s face burned crimson with humiliation.

“Who does he think he is?” he grumbled under his breath, glaring at the young man’s retreating figure. “By rights, he ought to call me Brother.”

“Bangchui!”

Xu Maoxiu’s sharp call carried from a distance. Xu Bangchui startled, then hurried toward the voice—only for Liu Kui to block his path.

“What now?” Xu Bangchui snapped, glaring.

Liu Kui snorted, his gaze lingering covetously on the longbow in Xu Bangchui’s hands before finally wrenching away.

“I’ll be watching you lot,” he spat venomously.

Xu Bangchui responded with a scornful pah!, shoving past him as he sprinted off.

True to form, Xu Maoxiu and the others gave him a thorough dressing-down. Fan Jianglin even confiscated his bow, declaring he wouldn’t get it back until they reached the northwest. Xu Bangchui slumped in regret, sighing like a stormcloud.

“We set off tomorrow. No matter what provocation or mockery comes our way, no one is to stir trouble—remember why we’re here,” Xu Maoxiu said sternly.

“Right. Sister’s already paved the way for us. What we make of it now is up to us,” Fan Jianglin added, glaring pointedly at Xu Bangchui. “If we shame ourselves this time, it’s not just our faces we’ll lose—it’ll be hers too.”

Xu Bangchui huffed. “Why’re you all looking at me? I won’t be the one embarrassing anyone!” He rubbed his nose, then abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, didn’t Sister promise us three gifts? We’ve only gotten two so far—what’s the last one?”

The others burst out laughing.

“Well, well, look who’s learned to dodge a lecture,” Xu Maoxiu said, amused despite himself. “Of course that’s the detail you remember.”

“It’s a homecooked meal from her—that counts as the third gift,” someone explained.

Xu Bangchui hadn’t actually cared about the gifts; he was just relieved to steer the conversation away. Grinning, he leaned into the banter.

Xu Maoxiu shook his head and glanced back toward the capital.

“Let’s go,” Fan Jianglin said, clapping him on the shoulder.

With a nod, Xu Maoxiu turned his gaze forward again.

In stark contrast to the lively military camp, the afternoon lull hung heavy over a quiet capital inn.

A clerk dozing against the counter jerked awake at the sound of light footsteps, blinking to see a young nobleman in brocade robes tiptoeing through the hall.

Their eyes met—both freezing in mutual surprise.

“Young Master Wang…” the clerk began.

The moment the words left his mouth, the youth flung a string of coins at him.

“Shut it,” the boy hissed, voice low with threat.

Though drowsy enough to sway on his feet, the clerk caught the money deftly, watching as the young master slipped out the door.

“I was just saying hello—it’s not like I was calling your minders to drag you back,” the clerk muttered with a shrug, tossing the coins approvingly in his palm. “This family’s a riot. Hope they stay longer.”

Wang Shi’qi dashed out of the inn in one breath, glancing left and right before picking a direction to sprint.

“Young Master Wang!”

A voice called from behind, making him skid to a halt and whirl around.

A young maid came hurrying after him, panting heavily.

“Young Master Wang, I was right at the inn’s entrance, yet you ran right past without seeing me…” she said between breaths.

Wang Shi’qi gave an awkward chuckle.

“I was just… startled, that’s all,” he admitted. “Chun Ling, what brings you? Does Lady Zhu wish to see me?”

After just one meeting, Lady Zhu has already forgotten who you are…

Chun Ling rolled her eyes inwardly. What a silly young master—but the sillier, the better…

A smile surfaced on her face.

“No, I just hadn’t seen you in a while and came to check. I thought you might have left already,” she said.

“I haven’t! My family has been keeping me under watch—they want to take me back home,” Wang Shi’qi replied indignantly. “I’ve barely spent any time in the capital! How can I leave now? Besides, I still haven’t shared a drink with Lady Zhu!”

“In a few days, it’ll be the Mid-Autumn Festival. There’ll be lantern displays in the capital,” Chun Ling said. “Everyone from our establishment will be out on the streets admiring and releasing lanterns. Why don’t you join us, Young Master?”

If everyone’s going out, naturally the renowned courtesan Lady Zhu will be there too.

Wang Shi’qi’s eyes instantly lit up—only to darken again with frustration.

“They definitely won’t let me go,” he grumbled.

“Young Master,” Chun Ling said, blinking innocently, “isn’t your fiancée here in the capital? Why not invite her to see the festival sights? Even the Emperor and his ministers will be watching, you know.”

Fiancée! Oh right—he actually had a fiancée!

Wang Shi’qi clapped his hands in sudden delight. He was betrothed to Cheng Jiao-niang, and as an engaged couple, they enjoyed slightly more freedom than ordinary acquaintances. Meeting for festive outings was perfectly acceptable—this was the perfect excuse!

“Excellent, perfect! I’ll go tell them right now!” he exclaimed, already turning to rush off.

Chun Ling watched the flustered young noble hurry away. The smile faded from her face, leaving only a cold smirk at the corner of her lips. Without another word, she turned and strode briskly in the opposite direction.

The gloomy sky had withheld its rain, and by morning, it cleared into brightness.

Upon hearing the knock at the gate, Jin Ge’er set down his water bucket.

“Didn’t Young Master Zhou already leave? Who could be knocking now?” he muttered, peering through the gate’s crack.

“Jin Ge’er,” greeted Qin Shi’san-lang with a smile. “Is your mistress at home?”

A maid served tea, and Ban Qin brought over a plate of pastries.

“My treatment here has truly improved,” Qin Shi’san-lang remarked with a laugh.

“It was never lacking before,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.

“Indeed, indeed. You have always been gracious—it’s my own suspicion to blame,” he said, chuckling as he took a sip of tea. “I came today to let you know that I’ve been frequently away from home lately, studying under a newly hired tutor. If you need anything, just send word to my household—I’ve already instructed them.”

Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him without speaking.

“Of course, you probably don’t need my help,” Qin Shi’san-lang said with a laugh. “I just mentioned it in passing.”

“I can’t say about the future, but right now, there is a favor I’d like to ask,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.

Qin Shi’san-lang froze for a moment.

“Really?” The amusement in his eyes deepened as he leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Tell me—who do you need dead this time?”

A maid nearby nearly rolled her eyes.

Here was a refined, jade-like young gentleman facing an elegant and composed young lady, surrounded by fragrant tea and delicate pastries on a crisp autumn day—such beautiful scenery and company. Couldn’t he at least think of something nicer to say?

Was her mistress some kind of bandit or bloodthirsty fiend, that the first thing out of her mouth should be about taking lives?