Jiao Niang’s Medical Record Chapter 400

The sleeping Prince Qing murmured a few incoherent sounds and turned over.

Duke Jin’an gently pulled the quilt over him before rising to his feet.

“Your Highness, you should rest as well,” a eunuch standing in the shadowed corner said softly.

“No, I’ll just take a walk,” Duke Jin’an replied.

Take a walk again… No one knew when the young duke had formed this habit.

The eunuch quickly picked up a cloak, draped it over Duke Jin’an’s shoulders, and opened the door to follow the youth outside.

To avoid disturbing others, Duke Jin’an had insisted that the Prince Qing reside in this secluded palace. His so-called walks were not to the imperial gardens or anywhere for leisure, but simply circling around this palace.

The eunuchs stationed around had long grown accustomed to it, watching the young man pass before them, lap after lap, as if the walking would never end.

When the morning light grew bright, the street gate opened and Cheng Jiao-niang stepped out, with Ban Qin following behind her. Two little girls trailed along as well, carrying baskets and fishing rods.

“There aren’t any fish in this river,” a neighbor at the gate couldn’t help but remind her. “If you want to fish, it’s best to go outside the city.”

Cheng Jiao-niang smiled at him and thanked him politely.

She had only gone a few steps when Cheng Ping suddenly leapt out.

Steward Cao and Ban Qin were both startled.

“I’ve thought it over – I still need to make things clear with you,” Cheng Ping said.

Since that day they had met on the street, Cheng Jiao-niang had not sought out Cheng Ping again, and he hadn’t deliberately approached her either, as if nothing had ever happened that day.

Cheng Jiao-niang bent at the waist and offered a formal salute.

“Please, go ahead,” she said.

“It still comes down to you becoming strong. No one else is of any use. Only you. In times of danger, only you can get yourself through it,” Cheng Ping said.

At these words, Steward Cao and Ban Qin both widened their eyes.

“You insolent brat!” Steward Cao shouted, reaching out to grab him.

But Cheng Ping, having said his piece, turned and bolted. Steward Cao chased after him for a few steps but couldn’t catch up.

“A gentleman does not speak against his conscience!”

Cheng Ping’s voice came flung from afar.

Steward Cao was fuming with anger.

What a damn strange temper – clinging to the most trivial of matters and never letting go. Truly, he was a Cheng through and through…

The thought flashed through his mind, and he quickly coughed twice.

He mustn’t sound as though he thought his own young lady peculiar.

What’s the use of me becoming strong? Cheng Jiao-niang thought. The Cheng clan has nothing to do with me anymore.

“Let’s go.”

After a moment of silence, she lifted her foot and walked on.

It was still chilly along the riverbank in early spring. Ban Qin set down a wooden stool, and Cheng Jiao-niang sat upon it, casting her straight hook into the water where it remained motionless.

The movement quickly drew curious glances from the people on the street.

“Since when are there fish in this river?” someone asked, peering into the water.

“There have never been fish here,” another, more familiar with the matter, said with folded arms. “That’s the Cheng family’s fool. Does a fool care whether there are fish or not?”

This remark drew more onlookers over.

The tale of the Cheng family’s fool, and the lawsuit involving the Cheng household, had already spread throughout Jiang-zhou.

That fool had sued her own uncle, demanding her mother’s dowry.

Such a shocking act could only have been done by a fool. And what was even more shocking was that the fool had actually won the case.

This fool was no ordinary fool. Though the details of the matter remained unclear to the common folk, it did not stop them from drawing their own conclusions with their own brand of wisdom.

Steward Cao looked at the girl sitting by the riverbank, upright as a pine, then shot a glance at a few of the attendants. They moved aside with him.

“What on earth has happened over the past year?” Steward Cao asked.

The attendants exchanged glances.

“Nothing at all,” they answered in unison.

Before the words had even fallen, Steward Cao raised his hand and smacked each of them on the head three times – pa, pa, pa.

“Impressive, aren’t you!” he glared at them, lowering his voice to a harsh growl. “Still trying to hide things from me?”

The attendants only chuckled sheepishly.

“We weren’t trying to hide it, Steward. It’s just that most of the time she’s perfectly normal – nothing unusual at all,” they said.

Steward Cao gave a cold snort.

“Then tell me – what about those other times?” he demanded.

The attendants exchanged glances again. After a moment’s hesitation, they leaned in closer.

“It was during that time – seems to have started after Miss discovered a great lake…” one of them whispered, glancing at another.

“Yes, that’s right, it was after she found the lake,” the other confirmed.

“Then her mood suddenly went wrong…” the first man continued.

“Well, not exactly wrong. She just sat facing the lake for several days,” another interjected. “Miss had done that before.”

“But before, when she did that, she never turned violent…” the first one argued back.

Violent!

Steward Cao seized the man’s arm.

“What do you mean, violent?” he demanded.

The attendants looked at one another again, then edged even closer to him.

“Steward Cao, you don’t know… back in Liang-zhou, there was a time we were nearly scared to death,” they whispered.

In the rear courtyard’s carriage shed, the coach they had used to return from Liang-zhou still sat untouched. Two attendants stepped forward and lifted the cloth cover. Steward Cao frowned. Covering an unused carriage with cloth was nothing unusual – but binding it with ropes? That was truly odd…

The two attendants hurriedly untied the ropes with a rustling sound, then swung open the carriage door. One glance inside made Steward Cao’s eyes widen.

“This is…” He pointed in shock, his voice rising – only to be smothered halfway by the attendants, who clamped their hands over his mouth.

“Steward Cao, keep your voice down!” they whispered urgently.

Steward Cao shoved them aside and strode quickly to the carriage, staring at the strange-looking crossbow within.

A man of the Zhou family, he was no stranger to weapons. Yet this crossbow was unlike any he had ever seen.

Its bolt-heads were of iron, its trigger teeth of bronze; the string was tightly bound hempen cord; the bow itself measured three feet two inches, with a string length of two feet five.

Though he had not yet handled it, any connoisseur would take one look and exclaim: what a fine bow!

Steward Cao reached out to lift it, and his body sank under the weight.

“This must be at least a hundred and twenty pounds!” he exclaimed in astonishment. As he spoke, he made to draw the bowstring, but an attendant stopped him.

“Steward Cao, it’s used like this,” the man said, taking it from him and setting his foot into an iron stirrup.

Steward Cao watched as the attendant strung it with ease – none of the strenuous effort or the fear of snapping the weapon that usually came with drawing a crossbow.

So that was why this heavy crossbow could carry so much more force.

Whumm! The bowstring twanged, and in an instant the bolt shot forth, striking a tree trunk with a thud and burying itself almost entirely inside.

Steward Cao’s eyes widened once again.

“We’ve tested it against armor,” one of the attendants whispered in his ear. “At over three hundred and forty paces, it drove halfway into elmwood. From seventy paces, it pierced clean through iron armor.”

Steward Cao drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

A divine weapon… a deadly instrument!

“Did – did Miss… make this?” he asked, his voice trembling.

The attendants nodded.

“And… and what is it for?” Steward Cao’s voice shook again.

Once, when she had played with bows and arrows, it hadn’t seemed a great matter. After all, archery was one of the gentleman’s six arts. But if the bow and arrows were replaced by such a heavy crossbow, it could no longer be called the pursuit of a refined gentleman.

The attendants exchanged glances.

“To kill,” one of them whispered.

Steward Cao clutched the crossbow, his body swaying. All right – killing. Killing was nothing strange for this young lady. But what sort of person could be worthy of facing such a divine weapon? Was it meant for one man… or for many?

“…After that, Miss began wandering all over Liang-zhou,” one attendant whispered. “Several times she was on the verge of killing. Truly on the verge – and the ones she faced were complete strangers, men and women, old and young alike…”

Remembering those scenes, they still felt shaken with fear.

It wasn’t that they were afraid of killing. But when confronted with innocent faces -strangers, even those who had greeted them kindly – women, children, the elderly… they truly could not bring themselves to strike. That would have been slaughter.

“Miss is absolutely not that kind of person,” Steward Cao said firmly, shaking his head.

She always abided by rules, never bullied the weak. That time at the Cheng household, even when surrounded by servants, she would not allow them to strike back – saying that lowering themselves to brawling with servants would disgrace their status. It was both pride and compassion.

She would never, without cause, slaughter passersby.

“Yes, after that, Miss was fine,” the attendants nodded, still with a trace of lingering fear. “Then we hurried day and night on the road back, and everything that happened afterward, Steward Cao, you already know.”

Entering the city, meeting Cheng Ping on the street – tears and pleas followed…

Steward Cao nodded, staring again at the crossbow in his hands. The longer he looked, the more it chilled him.

If what the attendants had said about its range and power were true, then if such a divine weapon were presented to the court, it would surely count as a great merit!

“Steward Cao, my lady says this is to be put away,” one of the attendants said.

Steward Cao gave a start and came back to his senses.

“Don’t leave something like this in the carriage,” he said. “Take it down to the hidden vault underground.”

After tidying away both the heavy crossbow and his own unsettled thoughts, Steward Cao stepped outside. He saw Cheng Jiao-niang still sitting by the riverbank, fishing as if she were an old monk in meditation. He couldn’t help but furrow his brows.

This wouldn’t do. To her, everything seemed as if it mattered little, or not at all. Steward Cao even felt that if she were struck with illness and lay dying, she might show no emotional response whatsoever. At such a young age, to already be so withered – how could that be right?

A person needed to have some pursuit in life.

Even if it was like that good-for-nothing Cheng Ping – at least he had the goal of earning a hundred copper coins.

In the fourth month of the second year of Yonghe, three fine horses galloped down the streets of Longgu City and came to a halt before a modest residence.

The house was simple but neatly kept, and now, adorned with red ribbons and green decorations, it was clear a wedding had just taken place.

“Fourth Brother! You’re late – you’ll be punished with a drink, a drink!” Xu Bangchui shouted, waving a wine flask in his hand, the smell of liquor heavy on his breath.

“Brother, I was away on duty and couldn’t make it for your joyous day…” Xu Sigen said to Fan Jianglin as he rushed out, moving as though to kneel.

Fan Jianglin laughed and caught hold of him.

“You had official duties,” he said.

“That’s right, that’s right! Now Fourth Brother’s an official, and we’re still just soldiers,” Xu Bangchui called out.

Behind him, Xu Mouxiu smacked him on the back of the head.

“Your wife’s holding the baby looking for you, and here you are rambling nonsense. Think being an official is so easy? Go tend the horses yourself.”

“Then I’d rather stay a soldier.” Xu Bangchui rubbed his head and grinned, then obediently turned back inside.

The brothers exchanged glances and all broke into hearty laughter.

Stepping through the doorway, the seven brothers sat in a circle – and one more besides. Xu Bangchui cradled a baby boy only a few months old in his arms, while the women bustled in and out, laying out dishes and wine.

“In the blink of an eye, it’s been nearly two years,” Xu Sigen said, looking at the brothers before him. “Bangchui’s son is already this big, and Eldest Brother is married too…”

“That’s right. Only a few of you are left – when will you settle down?” Fan Jianglin picked up the thread, pointing at the others as he spoke.

“We’re waiting to make our mark first,” Xu Maoxiu laughed, raising his wine bowl. “Come, Fourth Brother, taste this wine.”

“Yes, yes, see if this wine is better than what you get in the yamen,” Xu Bangchui chimed in.

“This was sent by our sister from Jiang-zhou, wasn’t it?” Xu Sigen asked, hastily lifting the bowl and taking a hearty gulp, praising it over and over.

“Don’t be too quick with your praise – guess what she said about it?” another brother teased with a laugh.

“What else could she say? No doubt she complained it wasn’t good wine and told us to make do with it,” Xu Sigen replied with a grin.

The room rang once more with laughter.

Outside, the women couldn’t help but glance toward the lively house.

“It’s always the liveliest when the brothers are together,” one woman said.

“And even livelier when they talk about their younger sister,” added another, clearly a new bride by her attire.

The first woman reached out and took her hand, eyeing the gold bracelet on her wrist, then showing the one on her own.

“Who knows how long it’ll be before we gather all seven,” she said with a smile.

“I wonder what kind of person she is,” the new bride said shyly. “I didn’t know what to prepare for her. Da-lang said she doesn’t lack for anything, so I just made her a pair of shoes. I only hope she won’t dislike them.”

“How could she? Let me see your embroidery.”

The women clustered together in the other room, examining the stitching and trading notes on handiwork, all while the sounds of drinking and laughter from the men drifted in from next door.

But soon, the sharp, urgent clatter of clappers rose from the street, shattering the calm.

“What’s happened?”

Everyone hurried out to ask.

“What else could it be? The Western bandits have come again to deliver me another reward!” Xu Bangchui roared with laughter, tossing his son into his wife’s arms. “After this, we’ll finally be able to call ourselves official officers of the army!”