Jiao Niang’s Medical Record Chapter 346

The once noisy surroundings fell into silence, and the howls of the wounded servant grew all the more piercing.

This time, everyone could clearly see the arrow in the woman’s hand glinting coldly under the sunlight.

No one dared to move a step.

“You—you—what do you think you’re doing?” First Master Cheng stammered, staring at the arrow aimed directly at him.

“You think just because I didn’t shoot you last time, I won’t do it now?” Cheng Jiao-niang said.

“Cheng Jiao-niang, how dare you act so recklessly!” First Master Cheng bellowed. “For a niece to raise blade and arrow against her uncle—this is the gravest of crimes!”

Steward Cao, standing to the side, couldn’t help but swallow hard.

If it were only an arrowhead wrapped in cloth pointed at First Master Cheng, that might be tolerable—but this gleaming, bare arrowhead was truly frightening.

For a junior to strike an elder was an unforgivable crime, punishable by beheading—without delay, without waiting for the autumn executions, and not subject to pardon under any amnesty.

She wouldn’t really do it… would she?

“Have you forgotten that I’m a fool? Isn’t it only natural for a fool to lose control, to act unruly and defiant?” Cheng Jiao-niang said.

Even as she gripped the bow, with a wounded man writhing and wailing at her feet, her expression showed neither agitation nor tension—still as gentle and serene as ever.

To be injured by a fool—what a grievance one couldn’t even voice!

A sheen of sweat broke out on the tip of First Master Cheng’s nose.

This “fool” was truly cunning!

“I’ve already left the Northern Cheng household, just as you wished. Where I live now is none of your concern.” Cheng Jiao-niang looked straight at First Master Cheng. “I’ll say it again—don’t you dare meddle in my affairs.”

This young lady had always been proper and courteous, never one for coarse words—but in such a moment, harsh words struck far truer.
After all, she was neither a junior of the Cheng family nor a servant; etiquette and law could no longer restrain her for speaking so boldly.

“Get out!” Steward Cao seized the moment and barked.

Such audacity! Such audacity!

Never in his life had First Master Cheng been cursed at with a “get out”—and by his own junior and servant, no less! And right before everyone’s eyes!

His face flushed red with fury, his whole body trembling, he lifted his foot to lunge forward—when suddenly, the twang of a bowstring rang out.

An arrow landed squarely at his toes, grazing his shoe. The white-feathered shaft still quivered, like a flower blossoming in the cold of winter.

“Master, Master!” the servants cried out in trembling voices, rushing to support First Master Cheng.

It was at times like this that the use of servants became clear: the master could not afford to lose face by backing down, but they could. And so, while loudly scolding on behalf of their master who refused to budge, they lifted their companion who had been shot in the arm, and in a flurry of noise and disorder, the whole group withdrew.

Once the servants’ wails faded, silence fell. Even the clucking of chickens and barking of dogs seemed to vanish.

Cheng Jiao-niang lowered her bow.

“Take the money,” she said, glancing at Steward Cao.

Ban Qin immediately responded, handing the banknote voucher to Steward Cao, who accepted it without hesitation.

Cheng Jiao-niang turned to the elder.

“Take your people, find a place, and make arrangements to build the house,” she said, pointing toward Steward Cao. “Get the money from him.”

The old man, still in a daze, finally came to his senses when he heard her words.

“N-no…” he stammered.

Before he could finish, Cheng Jiao-niang cut him off with a sharp look.

“I told you to go quickly—so go,” she said coldly. “Do you think I’m joking?”

Everyone present shivered at once.

Not long ago, at the sound of her words, a man had been shot down right before their eyes.

And this was a fool—her moods shifting like wind and clouds, no one could predict her temper!

The old man dared not utter another word. He turned at once and walked out.

“Hurry, hurry,” he urged in a low voice to the onlookers crowding around the door.

And just like that, the crowd dispersed.

The old man had only walked a short distance when he suddenly stopped, slapped his own head, and hurried back. He grabbed the little grandson who had been left behind, still standing dazed in the courtyard, gave Cheng Jiao-niang—who was watching them—a sheepish smile, and quickly strode away.

The child let himself be pulled along in a stupor, his eyes still fixed on Cheng Jiao-niang and the bow in her hand, even after they had walked far past the gate.

“She’s amazing…” he murmured, then suddenly snapped back to himself and clutched his grandfather’s arm. “Grandpa, Grandpa, I want to learn archery! I want to learn archery!”

The old man shook his head.

“Where would we find the money for that?” he said.

In this world, what skill could be learned for free? It wasn’t just about hard work—it also cost money. And especially if one wished to master a craft: a bow could be fashioned from sticks, hemp rope, and bamboo poles, but true training required real bows.

These days, even an ordinary hunting bow cost dozens of coins, not to mention the powerful bows strung with horsehair or human hair.

“All those things—zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, the Six Arts—they’re for after your belly is full. Let’s make sure we can eat and survive first.”

By the time the sun sank in the west, the little courtyard had already been tidied up and set in order.

Steward Cao and the others had also taken over the houses of two neighboring families, making enough space for a dozen or so people to live in.

“Now that the weather’s turned cold, with both the old and the young among them, they won’t freeze, will they?” Ban Qin asked softly.

“They won’t,” Steward Cao replied with a smile. “I’ve seen the place they moved into. The houses may have been abandoned, but they’re not in ruins. With some effort put into fixing them up, they’ll be no worse than here. Besides, they can earn wages building houses—plenty of people would fight for such an opportunity. I also told that Cheng Ji to buy extra charcoal, not to skimp. If anyone froze, Miss would certainly not be pleased.”

That old man’s surname was Cheng, given name Ji, and he had now become the overseer for this round of house-building.

“You think that man can be trusted?” Ban Qin asked.

“Last time, when Cheng Ping handed out a bag of labor wages, Cheng Ji didn’t take a single coin for himself—he divided it up fairly among the others,” Steward Cao replied. Then he chuckled. “But still, who can say for sure? It’s one thing to stay indifferent in front of small sums, but when it comes to big money… I’ve already arranged for people to keep an eye on him. Jin Ge’er is following him as well.”

Ban Qin nodded, and then began discussing with Steward Cao what furniture to buy and what needed repairing.

“I’ve brought enough money with me, no need to worry. We’ll replace everything with good quality,” Steward Cao said, nodding to each item.

“That won’t be necessary. Miss is someone who can make do wherever she is—she can live comfortably with fine things, but just as easily with plain ones,” Ban Qin said with a smile.

As the two were speaking, someone knocked on the door. Turning their heads, they saw it was the old man.

“We’ve more or less finished our discussion, so I’ve come to ask for Miss’s instructions,” he said respectfully.

Ban Qin told him to wait a moment and went inside. Cheng Jiao-niang had just woken from a short nap and was reading a book. After hearing Ban Qin’s words, she allowed him to enter.

Stepping into the room, Cheng Ji felt a tangle of emotions stir in his heart.

This house was one he had built with his own hands, and he had lived in it for over ten years—he could walk through it with his eyes closed. Yet now, though he had been gone for only half a day, coming back felt strangely unfamiliar.

The room was no more than a few paces wide. The bed, table, and several cabinets that once stood within had all been cleared out. In their place, a half-worn mat was laid down, a low four-legged bed set up, with canopy and screen dividing the space. In front stood a small desk, a low case with latticed legs, a censer, and a lamp. Bows and arrows hung on the wall. Though somewhat cramped, the room now felt refined, elegant, and serene.

In front of the screen, the young lady reclined on the low desk, a scroll in her hands. She wore a plain outer robe over her skirt, and as she stretched, one foot slipped from beneath her hem, clad only in white socks.

Cheng Ji quickly pulled his gaze away, though his heart was in turmoil.

The quiet room seemed utterly still, with only the beast-headed censer at the side sending up curling wisps of smoke, carrying a faint fragrance of sandalwood.

His old house had somehow become as beautiful as a painting. Was it because of these new furnishings—or because of the person within it?

“What is it?” Cheng Jiao-niang set down the scroll in her hand and straightened her posture to ask.

Cheng Ji quickly bowed.

“We… we’ve chosen the site,” he said hesitantly. “We’re preparing to invite craftsmen to take a look and see how it should be built.”

Here he paused.

“Shall we… hire them?” he asked tentatively.

“Go ahead,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.

There was a brief silence in the room.

“Miss, you really don’t need to be so stubborn,” Cheng Ji said, taking a deep breath and looking up.

After the earlier commotion, everyone had gathered to discuss what had happened. It seemed the young lady had grown estranged from First Master Cheng and, out of a fit of pique, wanted to live elsewhere—so she was simply building a residence here for herself.

“You are not me. Don’t try to judge me by your own way of thinking,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, looking at him directly.

Cheng Ji’s expression became awkward.

“I do not speak falsely,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued. “Every word I say comes from my heart. It is neither courtesy nor pretense. I will say it again: do not ask me about this anymore. My mood has not been good lately.”

My mood hasn’t been very good lately…

Outside the door, Ban Qin felt both surprised and worried.

Surprised because it was the first time she had ever heard the mistress say her mood was bad—she had never shown joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness before. Worried because he wondered why her mood had soured. Was it because of how the Cheng family had treated her? But the Chengs had always treated her this way; it shouldn’t be enough to upset her only now.

Cheng Jiao-niang held out her hand toward Cheng Ji.

“First, I’m staying in your house temporarily. Second, I’m giving you the money so you can build a house to live in. That’s all. Do you understand?” she asked.

He understood her words, but…

“Why?” Cheng Ji asked urgently. “Miss, this is a house—we’re spending your money!”

“So what?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “Aren’t you happy to have a house built?”

“Of course I’m happy—who wouldn’t be?” Cheng Ji said with a bitter smile. “It’s just… where in the world does a house come for free?”

“It’s not free. I’m staying in your house, aren’t I? And my people are staying in theirs,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Why is your brain so muddled?”

Who exactly is muddled! Talking with a child who thinks so strangely is really… Cheng Ji rubbed his hands nervously.

“Miss, is this… money from the Cheng family?” he asked.

“Do you think the Chengs would give me money?” Cheng Jiao-niang countered.

Of course…not.

“This is my money,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Use it freely; don’t worry about it.”

Where could a young lady like her have money? Cheng Ji’s mind was in a whirl.

“Miss, you’re really not doing this out of pique?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at him and picked up her scroll.

“I never act out of pique,” she said.

“But… this money… why waste it like this? Isn’t it a shame to—” Cheng Ji began, faltering.

Cheng Jiao-niang smiled.

“Isn’t money meant to be wasted?” she said with a laugh. “Otherwise, what’s the use of it?”

Cheng Ji looked helpless.

“Fine, I’m serious. Go ahead and build it. How you build it and who gets to live in it—decide that yourselves,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, pausing briefly. “Oh, but it would be better if Cheng Ping could take a look when construction starts.”

Cheng Ping?

Could it be that all of this was actually connected to Cheng Ping? That this young lady had gone to such lengths for his sake…?

Cheng Ji’s thoughts swirled, but he quickly shook his head. Forget it. Whatever Heaven gives, take it. At worst, they’d still live where they were meant to live. No real loss—just a bit of wasted effort, and that’s fine; the hard work would help keep out the winter chill, and it would keep everyone from idling.

“All right, I’ll go then,” he said, taking a deep breath and straightening up to bow. “Thank you, Miss.”

Cheng Jiao-niang returned the bow but said nothing further.

Cheng Ji stepped back out, and in the alley across the street, a group of people were squatting or standing, all looking tense as they saw him emerge.

“Ho-how is it?” someone stammered.

The others were so nervous they couldn’t even speak, staring at Cheng Ji without blinking, afraid that the slightest blink would shatter their dream.

Even if it was a dream, they wanted it to last a little longer.

“It’s true,” Cheng Ji said.

The three words fell like a weight, and the crowd in front of him went silent.

Seeing their faces, Cheng Ji couldn’t help but smile. He supposed he had been just as dazed in front of that young lady.

“It’s true!” he said again, smiling and raising his voice. “It’s true!”

Only then did the crowd come back to themselves, cheering and jumping for joy, some even crying from happiness.

“Everyone, put in a little extra effort—let’s aim to move into the new houses by spring!” Cheng Ji clapped his hands and said.

The crowd roared in response.

“Call back everyone who’s working as laborers in the streets!”

“We’ll do whatever you say…”

“…First, find two people to handle the accounts… come on, let’s sit down and sort out the personnel…”

Listening to the noise outside gradually fade, Steward Cao and Ban Qin withdrew their gazes.

They had seen the young lady wield her power in taking lives—but this was the first time they had seen her so lavish with money.

This young lady truly acted in strange and unpredictable ways.

Steward Cao clicked his tongue twice.

Yet this money was nothing to her. After all, she held in her hands the most precious treasures in the world.

Thousands of gold, boundless wealth and honor, extraordinary talent, lofty ambition—in the end, all of it could be entrusted to just a single life.