The day quickly passed, and the night grew deep. The medical officers at the Medical Academy had all gone to bed. Lin Danqing had accompanied the Chief Physician to the palace in the afternoon to check pulses for the nobles, and exhausted from the day’s work, had retired early to rest.

Lu Tong, however, couldn’t sleep, so she went to the medicine storehouse to organize prescriptions.

After finishing with the prescriptions, still, without any drowsiness, she found an unread medical text from the bookshelf and sat at the table with paper and a brush to copy from it.

The night was quiet, with only soft cricket chirps outside. Behind the rows of medicine shelves in the storehouse, Lu Tong sat at a low table, copying by lamplight.

“Ophiopogon, peony, sedum, and commelina, all treat delirious fever…”

“Lepidium, for sudden madness, white dog blood pills to be taken…”

“Dog…”

Her brush paused. She stared at the character for “dog,” lost in thought.

Earlier that day, the four puppies in the young man’s arms had been like furry soup dumplings. She could still feel the warmth of their fur against the back of her hand, and when they innocently reached out to lick her hand, it always reminded her of another pair of eyes from her memories – clear and timid, like two shining black pearls.

What she told Duan Xiaoyan about not liking dogs was a lie.

She had once had a black puppy, many years ago.

She called it “Wuyun” (Black Cloud).

That was probably in Lu Tong’s third year on Luomei Peak, or perhaps earlier – she couldn’t quite remember clearly.

After many days of testing medicines, Lu Tong had gradually adapted to life on Luomei Peak. She learned to store food, lock herself in the thatched cottage after drinking Yun Niang’s medicinal soups, and spend nights alone with just a lonely lamp when Yun Niang wasn’t there.

But such days were inevitably monotonous.

So when she wasn’t testing medicines, Lu Tong would secretly read the books in Yun Niang’s room.

She was literate – her father had taught her to read. She had never liked reading before, but at that time, she began to be grateful that this place had so many books to help her pass the time, making the dull, dark days not quite so unbearable.

Most of Yun Niang’s books were medical texts and pharmacology, with occasional historical and philosophical works. She compared them with the herbs she gathered, gradually learning to identify some.

Yun Niang discovered her secretly reading medical books but surprisingly didn’t stop her, letting her read with what seemed like interested amusement.

Later, when she knew the herbs well enough, Lu Tong began to learn some simple prescriptions. After Yun Niang tested medicines on her, Lu Tong would use mountain herbs to counteract the remaining toxins and nurture her body.

At that time, she was quite happy, always feeling that her time on the mountain hadn’t been wasted, gradually developing an illusion that she might become a female doctor someday.

Later still, Lu Tong often brought injured animals into her thatched cottage.

The mountains frequently had wounded creatures – wild cats caught in traps, rabbits with legs bitten by foxes, and young birds that had fallen from their nests…

When Lu Tong encountered them on her way, she would bring them back, treat them with herbs, and release them back to the mountains when they were healed.

Gradually becoming busy, she no longer felt lonely. The thatched cottage seemed to transform into a lively clinic, with her as the resident physician saving lives, and those accidentally rescued animals became her patients.

Finding joy in suffering, the bitterness turned sweet.

One day, she found a wild puppy in the graveyard, apparently newly born with its eyes still closed. Perhaps too weak, the mother dog had taken away the other puppies, leaving only this one behind.

Lu Tong brought this puppy back to her thatched cottage.

The puppy was completely black with smooth fur. Lu Tong chewed on her brush handle for a long while before naming it “Wuyun” (Black Cloud).

“The ox-tail black clouds pour thick ink, the ox-head wind and rain flutter like axles…”

This was a poem her father often had them write for calligraphy practice. Lu Tong loved the last two lines best: “Hurriedly fording the stream in pouring rain, when the rain suddenly clears, the mountain turns green again.”

She stroked Wuyun’s head and whispered: “Meeting me is your luck – I suppose that’s like ‘sudden clearing after rain’!”

Wuyun grew quickly.

The puppy was alert and lively, always by her side. When gathering herbs down the mountain, it would help Lu Tong carry the bamboo basket in its mouth. During the day, Lu Tong shared her food with Wuyun, and at night, while Lu Tong sat reading medical books by lamplight, Wuyun would lie at her feet keeping watch.

It was Lu Tong’s only companion on the mountain. Sometimes when she saw the puppy frolicking in the sunlight, she would momentarily feel as if she had returned to Changwu County, chasing butterflies on the riverside embankment.

Yun Niang sat at a small table under the tree making medicine, thoughtfully watching her.

“You like this puppy, don’t you?”

Lu Tong hugged Wuyun’s neck, softly responding with an “Mm.”

She loved this puppy.

It was like a gift from heaven.

One morning, Lu Tong woke up and couldn’t see Wuyun anywhere. Usually at this hour, the puppy would have already come to bite at her blanket corner.

She felt a sudden unease, rushed out of the cottage, and finally found Wuyun in a corner of the courtyard.

Wuyun lay on the ground, and upon seeing her, struggled to open its eyes and whimpered once.

Lu Tong fell beside it, helplessly trying to lift it.

“Don’t worry, I had it help me test a new medicine.”

Yun Niang emerged from behind the tree, holding an empty bowl, smiling as she spoke to Lu Tong on the ground: “It hasn’t been named yet, but the ingredients are club moss, Ardisia, wolfsbane, iris, arsenic…” She listed many more.

Lu Tong stared at her blankly, finally beginning to tremble.

Arsenic was poisonous.

Dogs couldn’t take arsenic, especially since Wuyun wasn’t even six months old.

Yun Niang said: “Seven days.”

“…What seven days?”

“Since you’ve learned some medical skills now, if you can create an antidote within seven days, it will live.”

The woman smiled gently, with a hint of curious concern: “I’ve told you all the poison’s ingredients, Little Seventeen. Don’t disappoint me.”

Lu Tong held her companion tightly, her face deathly pale.

Those were very brief yet endless seven days.

Every moment was like torture. She barely ate or slept, lost track of time, and went through all the medical books, only hating herself for not knowing more pharmacology, and for her medical skills not being more refined. She felt like a failure – her previous pride, her dreams of becoming a female doctor, suddenly shattered.

Stupidly laughable.

By the seventh day, Wuyun’s entire body had rotted beyond recognition.

The puppy wasn’t dead yet but could no longer make sounds. Those bright eyes gazed at her with infinite attachment. When Lu Tong’s tears fell on her hands, the puppy struggled to extend its tongue, gently licking her hand.

She couldn’t create an antidote. She simply couldn’t save her friend.

Lu Tong fell to her knees before Yun Niang, choking with sobs: “Yun Niang… Yun Niang… please save it…”

Yun Niang bent down, gently pulling away her hands clutching at her skirt, shaking her head with a sigh.

“Little Seventeen, you can’t place all your hopes on others.”

“Besides,” she smiled slightly, “you no longer have any consultation fee to pay me.”

Years ago, Lu Tong had offered herself as payment for Yun Niang to save her entire family.

But now, she wasn’t even her person anymore – she had no right to make deals with Yun Niang.

Outside, dark clouds hung low, and Wuyun died in her arms.

She watched helplessly as it died.

That warm, furry body gradually became cold and stiff. It would never again be the first to rush up and lick her hand after each medicine test. Those black, bright eyes slowly became unfocused, turning into two frozen, dull beads that would never again reflect Lu Tong’s image.

She wandered in a daze, carrying the dead Wuyun to the pine forest at the peak.

The mountain was covered in evergreen pines and cypresses. Lu Tong found a beautiful young pine tree and began digging a hole beneath it, wanting to bury Wuyun there. Halfway through digging, sudden thunder rumbled, and a downpour instantly began.

Lu Tong hurriedly hugged Wuyun, afraid the heavy rain would wet its fur. The puppy’s ice-cold body pressed tightly against her, and she finally couldn’t hold back anymore, holding Wuyun’s corpse and breaking into loud sobs.

The rain poured like a broken dam, howling wind wrapping around her cries.

She sat there like that, her pupils reflecting this sudden summer mountain downpour. Until the black clouds dispersed and the rain gradually ceased – summer mountain rain comes quickly and leaves quickly. A rainbow appeared after sunrise, glowing with rosy light.

Just as the poem said: Hurriedly fording the stream in pouring rain… when the rain suddenly clears, the mountain turns green again.

The downpour stopped.

But the downpour hadn’t stopped.

It hung over people’s heads, ready to fall at any time. Wuyun was dead, but the downpour remained. It could never truly stop – you never knew when it would fall, like a rising wave, dragging people down into the depths.

That was the first lesson Yun Niang taught her.

People cannot prevent the falling of rain, just as she could not prevent the passing of life.

“Pat—” came a sound.

Lost in thought, her hand unsteady, the brush fell on the paper, dragging an eye-catching ink stain.

Outside the window, the waning moon was hazy. Lamplight filled the room, and the ink stain on the paper looked like a black scar, suddenly stinging her eyes.

Lu Tong suddenly felt stifled.

She grabbed the paper in front of her, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it away in frustration.

The paper ball rolled along in the lamplight, coming to rest before a pair of boots.

Someone bent down to pick up the discarded paper, laughing as they spoke: “Did it offend you?”

Lu Tong’s body stiffened.

She looked up to see Pei Yunying walking in from outside.

Deep in the night, illuminated by lamplight, the young man had changed out of his day’s crimson official robes into a moon-white spring garment with subtle cloud patterns in jade brocade. Under the candlelight, he was like jade walking down a mountain, radiant with light.

Lu Tong collected herself: “Why are you here?”

This man entered the Medical Academy almost as if it were his domain, and Lu Tong was no longer surprised. If someone discovered him, she wouldn’t be the one to suffer anyway. So she let it be.

Pei Yunying sat down at the table across from her, taking out a paper from his robes: “You left this prescription at the Marshal’s Manor today. I came specifically to bring it to you.”

Lu Tong started, seeing that the paper was indeed hers, probably tucked in her medical texts and dropped while taking the guards’ pulses.

“Thank you.” She put away the paper.

Pei Yunying nodded, continuing: “And to ask for a bottle of appetite pills while I’m here.”

Lu Tong frowned: “Has Your Lordship finished the bottle I gave you last time?”

The last time Pei Yunying came, he said the Manor’s guard dog had digestive problems and asked Lu Tong for appetite pills. That bottle wasn’t small, and not much time had passed.

She reminded him: “Dogs shouldn’t take too many appetite pills.”

Pei Yunying smiled: “They’re for Duan Xiaoyan.”

“…”

She said no more, rising to get the appetite pills from the medicine cabinet.

Pei Yunying leaned against his chair, watching her back as she stood at the cabinet, then suddenly asked: “Why are you afraid of dogs?”

Her fingers trembled, but she kept her head down, continuing to open the drawer: “I’m not afraid of dogs.”

“Then why did you refuse Duan Xiaoyan’s offer?”

“Lord Pei, I was very clear – I dislike dogs, so I refused.”

“Dislike?” Pei Yunying’s lips curved. “But you looked pale with fear.”

Lu Tong: “…”

She took out the appetite pills, closed the cabinet, and walked to Pei Yunying.

The spring night was gentle, the window half-open. From afar came the soft sound of startled birds taking flight in the forest, and pear blossom fragrance drifted across the pond into the courtyard on the wind, perfuming their sleeves.

In the room’s corner, a silver candle burned quietly in an ancient bronze camel lamp, its soft light filling the entire room, casting gently swaying shadows on the ground.

The young man’s eyes were like the cool spring nights of Sheng Jing – seemingly gentle but carrying a deeper coldness, watching her with unclear intent.

Lu Tong remained silent.

This person… this person wasn’t as straightforward as he appeared, as if he could see through all pretenses and perceive the secrets in people’s hearts.

So there was no need to pretend anymore.

“Yes, I’m very afraid of dogs.”

Lu Tong set the bottle of appetite pills down in front of Pei Yunying with a thud, sat back at the table, and spoke indifferently: “Because I was bitten by a dog when I was young.”

“That dog was very annoying, like a stubborn plaster, pursuing me relentlessly, impossible to shake off.”

Pei Yunying started.

After a while, he laughed softly, sighing: “Why so pointed? It seems Medical Officer Lu is in quite a bad mood today.”

Lu Tong didn’t wish to continue this line of conversation, glancing at the medicine bottle on the table: “I’ve given you the appetite pills, Lord Pei.”

Pei Yunying picked up the porcelain bottle but didn’t leave immediately, instead saying: “I heard you stood up for me today?”

The statement seemed to come from nowhere, and Lu Tong was confused: “What?”

He lowered his head and smiled, his tone light: “At Jin Xianrong’s residence today, didn’t you give him extra needle pricks on my behalf?”

Lu Tong was first stunned, then suddenly understood.

Earlier that day, when Jin Xianrong had spoken disrespectfully about Pei Yunying, she had indeed made his needles more painful.

But that was at Jin Xianrong’s residence.

At the time, besides herself, only Jin Xianrong and his servants were present…

The Marshal’s Manor…

Their methods truly reached the heavens.

A chill rose in her heart.

She looked up at the man opposite her. The young man’s features were handsome and gentle in the lamplight, his moon-white brocade robe making him appear refined and mild, but looking carefully, his features were delicately sharp.

Weapons are skilled at hurting people.

A sharp knife, no matter how ornate its appearance, cannot hide its dangerous nature.

But Pei Yunying seemed not to notice Lu Tong’s sudden wariness, smiling slightly and asking carelessly: “Why did Medical Officer Lu stand up for me?”

Lu Tong was silent.

Logically, she had no connection to Pei Yunying, and although he currently wasn’t hindering her revenge, Lu Tong always maintained a subtle distance from him. This man held a high position and was involved in unknown schemes in the shadows. She could barely handle her affairs and had neither the energy nor inclination to be a righteous good Samaritan.

She wasn’t even the type to meddle in others’ affairs.

The spring night was cool, the moonlight shy. A late breeze blew in from the window, adding a layer of coldness to the lamplight-shrouded figures.

Lu Tong pulled her clothes tighter, and after a long while, finally said: “Meal payment.”

“Meal payment?”

Lu Tong nodded, looking directly into his eyes: “When I first entered the Medical Academy, I ate Lord Pei’s lotus pastries, and you didn’t take payment.”

“This serves as payment for that meal.”

She spoke with complete seriousness as if discussing a million-tael business deal, causing Pei Yunying to be slightly taken aback.

That night, Lu Tong had just been assigned to the South Pharmacy, the small kitchen was cold and empty, and she happened to encounter Pei Yunying passing by.

She ate his lotus pastries, but he didn’t take her money, just left like that.

Pei Yunying nodded: “I see.” Then looked at her with a smile: “It was just a basket of pastries, why does Medical Officer Lu need to be so precise?”

As if she always kept such debts of gratitude very clear – medicine, pastries, life-saving favors…

As if afraid of owing others, or being owed.

Lu Tong spoke coolly: “What the Marshal doesn’t know is that we must repay even the smallest grudge, and must return even the kindness of a single meal – this is the rule of our Lu family.”

Pei Yunying looked at her thoughtfully.

The woman sat reading medical books under the lamp, the yellow light hazy. Her long hair was loose from its bun, flowing like silk over her shoulders, the water-blue dress making her look like a flower blooming in the mountain night, cold and serene.

His hand paused in playing with the medicine bottle. After thinking, he asked: “Why don’t you ask about my family?”

Lu Tong started, unable to help to look up at him.

The young man propped his chin in his hand, smiling faintly as he watched her, his tone casual but his eyes still as deep water, hiding ripples she couldn’t understand.

A very faint orchid musk fragrance drifted through the air, or perhaps it was the newly bloomed pear blossoms outside being too fragrant, making it impossible to ignore.

Lu Tong withdrew her gaze, saying coolly: “I’m not interested in others’ family affairs.”

Hearing this, Pei Yunying started, looking at her with a somewhat complex expression.

The dense small characters in the medical text before her appeared blurry in the lamplight. Lu Tong suddenly lost interest in continuing to read. After a moment of silence, she asked: “Why doesn’t Lord Pei ask why Jin Xianrong spoke that way?”

Jin Xianrong’s words had been utterly insulting to the Pei family. Given how Pei Yunying had dealt with Prince Wen of Wen earlier, this Commander was ruthless and vengeful, not the type to let things go. Moreover, since he had planted people in Jin Xianrong’s household, that was quite daring. Lu Tong had thought he would take revenge, but he seemed unexpectedly unconcerned.

As if he didn’t care about the Zhaoning Duke’s manor or the Duke’s reputation at all.

Pei Yunying blinked, sighing very softly, “Who in Sheng Jing doesn’t know about my family’s affairs?”

“The Marshal isn’t angry?”

He shrugged: “What he said was true.”

Lu Tong fell silent then, unable to understand Pei Yunying.

A gust of wind came in, making the camel lamp on the table flicker. Pei Yunying reached out to adjust the wick, brightening the light. He said: “Baozhu is almost out of medicine. Sister asked me to ask when you’ll change her prescription?”

Previously when Lu Tong was at Renxin Clinic, she would go to Pei Yunxu’s residence every few days to examine the mother and daughter and change Baozhu’s prescription as needed. Since coming to the Imperial Medical Academy, she’d been so busy she barely touched the ground and had forgotten that the time to change the prescription was approaching.

“The Medical Academy has two days of rest every month,” Lu Tong said. “I didn’t leave last month, but this month I’ll visit the clinic. I’ll examine Baozhu then and change her medicine.”

Pei Yunying nodded: “That’s fine.”

Another silence fell.

He picked up the medicine bottle from the table and stood, stopping at the door: “Medical Officer Lu.”

Lu Tong: “Yes?”

The young man stood with his back to her, and after a while, smiled and said: “Thank you.”

Without saying more, he left.

The room returned to silence. Lu Tong put down her medical text and looked ahead.

The moon broke through light clouds, flower shadows grew dim, and cool moonlight flowed across the ground, reflecting frost-white.

His shadow was gone from outside the door.

“We must return even the kindness of a single meal, and must repay even the smallest grudge.” — Records of the Grand Historian