When Miracle Doctor Wan finished the acupuncture, it was half an hour later, and the sun had fully set behind the western hills. Sweating profusely, Wan Wengyuan called Qingya and Xing Pingchun back inside. Qian Jiaoniang still lay on the couch, her head, neck, shoulders, and arms all stuck with fine silver needles—she looked just like a porcupine at first glance.
Wan Wengyuan instructed, “The needles need to stay in for another half hour. The patient must remain calm and peaceful, steady in both breath and mind.”
Doctor Bai clicked her tongue in amazement at the sight of the needles on Qian Jiaoniang. Deeply admiring, she bowed to Wan Wengyuan and said, “Sir, you truly are a miracle doctor.”
Wan Wengyuan stroked his beard with a smile. “I’ve merely eaten a few more years’ worth of salt than others.”
Qingya noticed Qian Jiaoniang’s bare shoulders and arms exposed. She walked over and whispered, “Are you naked under there?”
Qian Jiaoniang replied, “I’m wearing a dudou.”
Only then did Qingya notice the thin ties around her neck. She sighed and sat beside her. “Good thing you weren’t born into a noble household. A proper young lady would never expose her arms in front of a male doctor—even someone as old as Miracle Doctor Wan.”
Doctor Bai added, “You’re absolutely right. Even beyond male doctors, some women can’t even bear to speak of their conditions to us female doctors. I’ve seen a few, young and delicate as flowers, who died from illness just because they couldn’t speak up.”
“Exactly. Giving up their lives for the sake of some so-called ‘chaste womanly virtue’—there are far too many foolish women like that,” Qingya said disdainfully.
After a while, Qian Jiaoniang asked, “Are they done over there yet?”
Qingya replied, “I’m not sure—I haven’t gone to check.”
“Where did Chou’er go?”
“He got bored waiting outside and ran off on his own. Maybe he went to check on things over there, I don’t know.”
Qian Jiaoniang said no more.
Another half hour passed. Wan Wengyuan removed the needles for her. Qingya helped dress Qian Jiaoniang and then invited Wan Wengyuan back in. Qian Jiaoniang sat up on the couch, smiling brightly. “Uncle Wan, you really are amazing. I had such a terrible headache before, but now it’s gone. It’s like someone wiped the dust off my brain—it feels so clear!”
Wan Wengyuan replied, “That’s very good. But you still need to rest for two days. Keep taking your medicine as usual. I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”
Qian Jiaoniang asked, “Where are you staying? If you don’t mind, perhaps you could stay here in the manor?”
Qingya added, “Exactly! I’ve already asked the kitchen to prepare a nice meal. Miracle Doctor, you must join us for a few drinks tonight.”
Wan Wengyuan said, “I’m staying at the Laifu Inn. I won’t stay the night—I still have to visit the butcher’s home. His young son has been bedridden for days. I heard he got sick after a trip to the mountains.”
Hearing he had other pressing matters, Qian Jiaoniang didn’t insist. “Then tomorrow it is. If you say I can drink then, I’ll toast you with three full bowls!”
“Hahaha! I’m afraid you still won’t be able to drink by then!”
Qingya walked him to the door and handed him a pouch with thirty taels of silver. Wan Wengyuan refused at first, but Qingya said, “Our madam said, back then she could only give you half a bun to eat. Now that the household’s in better shape, of course we must pay for your medical treatment. Chou’er said you’ve been offering free consultations—but how can a free clinic survive without money?”
Wan Wengyuan hesitated but finally accepted when she mentioned the clinic. Qingya instructed Wu Jiang to escort the doctor back to the inn. When she returned, she found Qian Jiaoniang gently shaking her head and murmuring, “Just got better—don’t you ruin it!”
“Don’t worry, I know my limits. Uncle Wan really is a living immortal. After those needles, my head is clear, no more pain, my vision isn’t blurry anymore—feels like I can even see farther now.” Qian Jiaoniang smiled. “How much silver did you give Uncle Wan?”
“Didn’t you show me with your fingers? Thirty taels.”
“Good.” Qian Jiaoniang nodded. “It’s just a shame I only have that much. Otherwise, I’d give more.”
Qingya said, “Saving the marquis’s wife is a big deal. Doctors always get a reward. Why not open the vault tomorrow and take out three to five hundred taels? No one would object.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s eyes lit up. “There’s such a rule? Perfect! I’ll ask for some tomorrow. But… what’s going on over there?”
Qingya spread her hands. “I really don’t know. No one’s told me anything. Chou’er went over and hasn’t come back either. Maybe he got held up. I’ll go take a look.”
Qian Jiaoniang was silent for a moment. “I’ll go with you.”
“That won’t do! Miracle Doctor Wan just finished treating you. If you leave and something happens, all his work will have been for nothing.”
Qingya firmly insisted she stay and rest. After tidying up, she left the courtyard. Not long after, she saw Xing Pingchun and Ah Da walking toward her. Xing Pingchun was shielding his eyes with his elbow, head hung low, while Ah Da had an arm around his shoulder, seemingly talking to him.
Qingya’s heart sank. If there had been good news, Xing Pingchun would’ve come running long ago—how could he be dragging his feet with such a dejected look?
She walked up to the two of them. Xing Pingchun’s eyes were red like a rabbit’s from crying, and he whimpered like a little puppy. Qingya sighed. Well, no need to even ask now.
“Miss Qingya, where are you going?” Ah Da asked, his face full of sorrow.
“I came to find you. How is the Marquis?” Qingya asked.
Ah Da shook his head, sighed, opened his mouth but couldn’t speak for a while, and then let out another sigh.
It wasn’t until they saw Qian Jiaoniang that Ah Da finally managed to speak. “Aliman performed rituals all afternoon, but the Marquis’s spirit still hasn’t returned. He said… perhaps what afflicts the Marquis isn’t a curse.”
“Mother, does that mean Father won’t get better?” Xing Pingchun climbed onto the couch and hugged Qian Jiaoniang from behind, burying his small face into her neck, sobbing as he spoke.
He likely wasn’t the only one thinking that—Ah Da and the others probably had the same thought. But Qian Jiaoniang smiled and said, “Silly Chou’er, why would your father not recover? We just haven’t found the right method yet—that’s actually a good thing.”
“A good thing?” Xing Pingchun looked confused.
“Yes, a good thing. It means your father might not have fallen victim to some Western Li scheme. That in itself is good news,” Qian Jiaoniang said. “We’ll keep searching step by step, and eventually we’ll find the reason for your father’s madness.”
Ah Da was encouraged by this. “Exactly—our General will surely return to normal!”
Xing Pingchun wiped his tears and grinned. “Mother is always right!”
Qian Jiaoniang wiped Xing Pingchun’s face and asked, “Where is the Marquis now?”
Ah Da replied, “The General is in his own courtyard. Aliman is not willing to give up yet and wants to try another ritual tomorrow morning. Since it needs to be done at dawn, Qingquan asked the General to stay in the main courtyard so it wouldn’t disturb you at night, and so it’s easier to bring him over early.”
“Is the Marquis still acting up?”
“After being soaked in cold water, he seemed a bit better. He was still agitated this afternoon, but not as bad as the past two days. Ding and Zhang have brought back plenty of ice—tonight should be manageable.”
Qian Jiaoniang paused in thought. “Go bring the Marquis back anyway. Last time, it was because he ran around at night that things got worse. Let’s not take that risk again.”
Ah Da followed her instruction and went to inform Li Qingquan and the others. Li Qingquan didn’t delay and helped escort Dingxi Marquis back to Qian Jiaoniang’s courtyard together with the others. From inside, she watched them return—everyone’s head hung low.
Dingxi Marquis was supported by Ah Da and Li Qingquan, one on each side. He was still struggling, but at least didn’t need to be restrained.
Xing Muzheng was clearly disappointed. Aliman was not the type to boast—he was always calm and steady. He would never have made such confident claims without good reason. What worried him now was that Jiaoniang and the others might believe his madness wasn’t caused by the enemy. If they pursued the wrong path, he might truly have no hope of rescue.
He was already heavy-hearted, but seeing Qian Jiaoniang standing outside only made him more displeased. Did this woman not realize her head was still injured? Always walking around, moving about—did she need to collapse again before she’d take care?
Xing Muzheng was helped into the west wing. Qian Jiaoniang followed, looked into his dark eyes, and smiled as she tousled his hair messily. The Marquis let out a loud roar. Li Qingquan and Ah Da gave her baffled looks, but Qian Jiaoniang simply withdrew her hand and walked out as if nothing had happened.
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