“This is a long story,” Ah Da said, “but Aliman is our man. And right now, he’s the heir to the old holy shaman of Western Li. There’s no one more suited to diagnose the Commander’s illness.”
Aliman placed his hand over his chest and gave Qian Jiaoniang a bow. “Madam, please allow me to see the General,” he said in halting Xie language.
Qian Jiaoniang met his gaze. His eyes were light brown, but very clear. She stared at him for a moment and then said, “Then I’ll trouble you to take a look at him.”
Aliman understood and immediately looked to Ah Da. Ah Da glanced at Qian Jiaoniang, who gave a nod. “Go quickly. Brother Peng Shi, wash away the dust from the road—you must be tired.”
Ah Da quickly led the two out. Qingya helped Qian Jiaoniang back to bed. After she managed to eat a little porridge, Doctor Bai arrived with a new set of medicine to apply to her wounds. Just as she was about to begin, Ah Da burst in, shouting joyfully:
“Madam! Madam, there’s hope! The Marquis can be saved!”
Qian Jiaoniang’s body stiffened slightly. “Come in and speak.”
Qingya hurried to protest, “Hey! You’re still in bed—why let anyone in?”
“It’s fine.”
Ah Da rushed in, crossing the room in a few steps. “Madam, Aliman says the Commander may have been afflicted by the Qiang tribe’s ‘Youzhu’—a kind of soul-capturing spell. Those affected become dull-minded, even mad—it fits the Commander’s symptoms perfectly!”
“The Qiang tribe?” Qian Jiaoniang narrowed her eyes. That was one of the tribes under Western Li’s domain. So it was the doing of Western Li after all. “Can he—can Aliman undo this sorcery?”
“He can! The old shaman of Western Li was the national shaman—he mastered the greatest tribal magics. Aliman learned the spell-breaking rituals directly from him.”
“What’s needed for the ritual?”
“He said… three goats, three bulls, three black dogs, and a bunch of other things. Basically, an altar needs to be set up with incense, then the animals are sacrificed to summon the gods and call the soul back.”
“What does the Marquis need to do?”
“Nothing at all—just sit nearby.”
Qian Jiaoniang considered briefly. “Then do as he says. At this point, we have no other options—go to the accounting office and get the silver, buy everything Aliman asks for. When will the ritual take place?”
“From midday to dusk—when yang energy is at its peak.”
Qingya asked, “What time is it now? Can we make it by noon?”
Ah Da replied, “It’s not yet the hour of chen—we’ve got time! Those things aren’t hard to find, just a quick trip out and it’ll all be ready!”
“Then go quickly.”
“At once!”
That afternoon, Aliman set up the altar in Xing Muzheng’s study—the place where his condition had first worsened. Qian Jiaoniang’s body couldn’t take any more, and Qingya, now a strict little steward, absolutely refused to let her go. Qian Jiaoniang stayed in her room, took her medicine, and lay quietly with her eyes closed.
Qingya read a book while fanning her.
The afternoon felt unusually long. Qingya got up several times to check the time at the window. The sun was harsh today, bright enough to make it hard to keep one’s eyes open.
She glanced up again—the fiery red sun had started to dip westward. It was nearly the hour of you. Still no word from the study. Qingya turned back—Qian Jiaoniang was still lying motionless. She was impressed. She really is asleep. She hasn’t moved all afternoon.
“Mother! Mother!” Xing Pingchun’s loud voice echoed in the courtyard. “Look who I brought back for you!”
Qingya rushed to the window and whispered harshly, “Don’t shout—your mother is sleeping!”
But Qian Jiaoniang’s fully awake voice came from the bed, “Why is Chou’er back so early? Let him come in.”
Qingya turned around, surprised. “You weren’t sleeping?”
“I slept too much. Couldn’t fall asleep again.”
Xing Pingchun rushed to the window, grinning brightly. “Sister Qingya! I brought someone back—you and Father will both be happy!”
“Who did you bring?” Qingya looked past him but saw no one.
“Uncle Wu at the gate wouldn’t let an outsider in,” Pingchun pouted.
“A guest, huh… well, today’s not really an auspicious day for visitors,” Qingya said, glancing at Qian Jiaoniang to gauge her reaction.
Jiaoniang replied, “I’m just lying here anyway—let Chou’er’s guest in.”
Pingchun heard and cheered. “Mother, you’ll be so surprised!”
Qingya helped Jiaoniang sit up and propped her with several soft pillows. “I’ll go take a look first. If it’s appropriate, then you can meet them.”
Jiaoniang didn’t know who her son had suddenly brought back but agreed to Qingya’s suggestion.
Qingya fixed her hair in the mirror and calmly walked out to the main hall. There, Xing Pingchun bounced in, dragging someone along. Qingya focused her eyes—it was an elderly man in commoner’s robes, with a lean, dignified face and piercing eyes. His graying hair was tied up with a wooden hairpin, and he sported a long beard, giving him the air of a Daoist sage.
Qingya was a little surprised. She had thought Xing Pingchun had brought back a schoolmate—but it turned out to be an old man.
“Sister Qingya! This is Grandpa Wan! He once gave me a nine-linked ring! He’s super nice!”
Old Master Wan chuckled. “You little rascal, your memory is quite good. I remember you were only six years old back then, and you still remember?”
Xing Pingchun said proudly, “Of course! How could I forget something so wonderful?” He lifted his chin with pride.
Old Master Wan laughed heartily and gave Xing Pingchun’s little head a fond rub.
Qingya quietly sized him up, then offered a polite bow with a smile. “Good day, sir. May I ask what connection you have with our Madam?”
Old Master Wan stroked his beard. “I’d say… she’s my benefactor.”
Qian Jiaoniang, listening intently from the bed, heard the muffled sounds from the hall. Xing Pingchun’s voice was the loudest, but she still couldn’t quite make out what was said. A short while later, the voices stopped. Just as she was wondering about it, Qingya came in. “Jiaoniang, this guest says he’s here to repay a kindness.”
Qian Jiaoniang blinked from where she lay in bed. When did I ever save someone from drowning? She didn’t even know how to swim! Completely confused, she let Qingya help her sit up on the couch. After a moment, Qingya brought the elderly man in. Qian Jiaoniang started in surprise, then suddenly remembered. “Uncle Wan!”
“It’s been many years, Miss Qian. Have you been well?” Wan Wengyuan said with a smile.
Xing Pingchun leaned excitedly onto her knees, trying to show off. “Mother, guess how I ran into Grandpa Wan?”
“How did you?” Qian Jiaoniang played along.
Xing Pingchun animatedly explained, “Yesterday Uncle Li went out to find a miracle doctor, but after all that effort, the doctor still wouldn’t come back with him. So today, I went to find him myself. I was going to march right up and point at him and say, ‘Hey, are you that miracle doctor who refused to treat my father?’ But guess what happened? I got there, and it turns out Grandpa Wan was the miracle doctor!”
