Jiao Niang’s Medical Record Chapter 364

The young lady quickly stood before Cheng Ping, a painting still draped over her shoulder until a gust of wind sent it fluttering to the ground.

The old scholar, who had been beating his chest and stamping his feet in despair over his painting stall, let out a cry—only to be cut short by the money suddenly held out before him.

With no commotion or loud weeping, the scene drew only a curious glance from passersby, none of whom stopped to linger.

“Warrior—ah, I mean—my lady, do you know me?” Cheng Ping stammered, his heart racing under her unwavering gaze, which hadn’t left him for a single moment.

His mind raced. He had been here for some time, but he hadn’t had many customers—certainly no women among them.

Could she be from a family whose fortune he had told?

But that didn’t make sense either. Since he wasn’t in his usual territory, he hadn’t left his name behind. How could she have addressed him so directly?

“Ah, you little swindler!”

The two women who had followed exclaimed in surprise.

Seeing them, Cheng Ping was both startled and suddenly understanding.

“Ah, San-niang, Xi-niang, what brings you here?” he asked with a grin.

San-niang stepped forward and grabbed his arm, while Xi-niang seized the other, pinning him firmly between them.

“So you ran all the way here!” they cried, both excited and thrilled, turning to look at Cheng Jiao-niang. “Miss, we’ve finally found him!”

Cheng Ping immediately understood what was happening and let out a bitter smile.

“Miss, it was only one copper coin—was it really worth all this effort…” he said, hanging his head in defeat. “Well, what do you plan to do? I can’t return the money—after all, I did perform the divination. A reading cannot be given for free… If you insist, just beat me up to vent your anger.”

He rambled on, but no one responded. When he finally looked up, he saw the young lady still staring intently at him—her gaze sharp and unwavering, as if studying every inch of him. The intensity of her scrutiny made the two women beside her hearts race nervously.

Cheng Ping, however, let out a relaxed sigh, his expression easing. He even tilted his head from side to side, as though helping her see every angle clearly.

“Do I look like him?” he asked.

Look like whom? The two women were puzzled, but when they glanced at Cheng Jiao-niang, they were startled.

A single tear traced its way down the lady’s face.

“Miss!” they exclaimed, genuinely alarmed.

Though their time together had been short, this young lady had always carried herself with serene composure. She spoke with a gentle smile—never particularly warm, but certainly never sullen or sorrowful, let alone tearful.

Cheng Ping, in contrast, remained calm. He raised a hand and lightly touched his own cheek.

“So much alike, then,” he remarked, then broke into a grin. “Well, take a good look—as long as you’d like.”

A northern wind swept through, whipping up the snow from the trees along the street and scattering it in a flurry.

The women hurriedly shook their cloaks, trying to shield Cheng Jiao-niang, but they were too late—snow had already dusted the seated young lady, leaving glistening specks across her dark robes.

Her attendants didn’t seem particularly concerned; they were long accustomed to her peculiar ways. But the two Cheng family women and the old scholar were utterly bewildered.

“R-really… just going to keep looking?” the old scholar murmured to himself.

Ever since Cheng Ping had said, “take a good look,” the young lady had indeed sat down and continued staring—for what felt like an eternity.

Fascinated, the old scholar gave up on selling his paintings and stood to the side, watching along.

After all, the compensation he’d received for the damaged stall and scrolls was more than enough.

Now that he thought about it—this young lady was remarkably strong. From the way she moved, she could probably draw a hundred-pound bow.

The two women exchanged a glance, the same thought flashing through their minds: Could it be… that she’s…?

But this little swindler wasn’t even that good-looking—not nearly as handsome as Wang Family’s seventeenth son…

“You’re overthinking it—it’s not like that,” the old scholar remarked, shaking his head.

The two women shot him a glare.

“What do you know?” they retorted in hushed tones.

“More than you, apparently. That young lady’s gaze doesn’t carry the meaning you’re imagining,” the old scholar fired back without hesitation.

As they bickered, Cheng Ping, who had been hawking his services for a while without a single customer, finally let out a resigned sigh. His eyes eventually settled on Cheng Jiao-niang, as though noticing her intense stare for the first time. A grin spread across his face, and he began walking toward her.

“Miss, how about letting me tell your fortune? I charge only one copper coin, and interpreting the hexagram is free,” he said.

Cheng Jiao-niang jolted as if startled, quickly rising to her feet and taking a step back.

Her reaction, in turn, surprised everyone around her.

Was there anything in this world that could frighten this young lady?

She dares to kill… the attendants thought.

She dares to accuse her own elders… the women mused.

She can tear apart a tightly bound bamboo frame with her bare hands… the old scholar recalled.

“You little swindler, get away from her! Who said you could come here and trick people?” the two women shouted, waving their hands to shoo him off. “Go on, go back over there and just let her look!”

“Actually, his divinations are quite accurate,” the old scholar interjected.

Some time ago, this young man had set up his fortune-telling stall near the old scholar’s spot. In this small, cold town with few visitors, the old scholar had been glad for the company—especially from someone whose business was even slower than his own.

A few days earlier, on a whim, he’d asked the young man to tell his fortune, paying one copper coin for an auspicious reading that predicted a financial windfall in the coming days.

At the time, he hadn’t believed it and had even teased him for days. But now, holding the pouch of coins in his hand, it suddenly made sense—this was the financial luck he’d been promised!

Though he’d lost his painting stand and a few scrolls, the compensation he received far exceeded their value.

Whether it was coincidence or not, he found himself hoping the young man would finally make a sale…

Even if it was just a one-coin transaction, if this wealthy young lady could be charmed into happiness, who knows—maybe fortune would truly smile upon them!

“Don’t be afraid, miss,” Cheng Ping said with a smile. “Whether fortune is good or bad, hiding or fearing won’t stop it from coming. In truth, once you see through it, it’s really not so daunting.”

What comes will come, whether you hide or fear it—it cannot be avoided…

Cheng Jiao-niang listened, her eyes lowering slightly as a tear fell. Then she lifted her head again.

“Alright,” she said, offering a faint smile.

Though her smile looked almost like a cry.

Cheng Ping acted as though he hadn’t noticed and simply smiled back, gesturing for her to take a seat.

Cheng Jiao-niang stepped forward and approached his small, worn-out table.

“It’s very simple—just shake these coins and toss them,” Cheng Ping explained cheerfully, taking out three large copper coins.

Just as Cheng Jiao-niang reached out to take them, he pulled them back.

“Ah, my family’s ancestral rule: no reading without payment. So… payment first, please,” he said with a grin, extending his other hand.

One of the attendants immediately produced a handful of coins.

But Cheng Ping quickly withdrew his hand without accepting them, leaving the attendant puzzled and slightly surprised.

“Just one coin,” Cheng Ping said, extending two fingers to pick a single coin from the attendant’s hand.

“Why do you charge exactly one coin?” Cheng Jiao-niang demanded, suddenly standing up. Her voice carried a hint of anger.

Everyone around them was startled once again.

Cheng Ping’s fingers froze mid-air.

“I-Is it too much?” he stammered. “But I really can’t do it for free… It’s my family’s rule—”

“Take all this money. Don’t you want to earn a living? Why won’t you take it?” Cheng Jiao-niang said, snatching the coins from the attendant’s hand and holding them out to Cheng Ping. “Take them!”

Cheng Ping awkwardly leaned back, avoiding the offering.

“But… rules are rules…” he replied, slowly moving his two fingers forward while watching her cautiously. “Just one coin. Not less, not more…”

Cheng Jiao-niang watched him, her face slightly pale. Her lips moved as if to speak, but no words came out. She simply observed as Cheng Ping tentatively picked up a single coin with his fingers.

She handed the remaining coins back to the attendant and sat down. Contrary to what everyone expected—no furious table-flipping, no spitting in Cheng Ping’s direction—she remained calm, as though her earlier agitation had never happened.

Cheng Ping carefully placed the coin into the pouch at his waist, then cautiously extended his hand to offer her the three large coins.

Cheng Jiao-niang reached out, and the coins dropped into her palm.

“Close your hand, shake them, focus on what you wish to ask, and then toss them…” Cheng Ping instructed, demonstrating as he spoke.

Cheng Jiao-niang closed her fingers around the coins and began shaking them slowly.

“Yes, yes, just like that…”

Cheng Ping’s voice was gentle, almost as if coaxing a child.

She couldn’t help but press her lips together into a faint smile. Tears once again blurred her vision as she turned her hand and let the three coins fall onto the table.

Cheng Ping let out a quiet sigh of relief, and those around them did the same.

Who would have thought that fortune-telling could be so exhausting…

“Let me take a look,” Cheng Ping said, smoothing his robes as he settled onto a low stool, a cheerful grin on his face.

By now, the growing crowd around them had drawn the attention of passersby and idle onlookers, some of whom edged closer to see what was happening.

Cheng Ping leaned in to examine the coins, but his smile vanished abruptly. He looked up, startled, his expression one of disbelief as he stared at Cheng Jiao-niang.

“Miss… how can you be a person with no fate?” he exclaimed.

Those around them were taken aback by his reaction.

“What do you mean, ‘no fate’?” the two women asked urgently.

“It means she’s dead—or as good as dead,” Cheng Ping explained, his gaze fixed on Cheng Jiao-niang, unable to hide his shock. “Either she has already died, or she is about to die.”

A collective gasp swept through the crowd.