Night had deepened, and white dew had formed in the garden.

The white dew added a touch of clear desolation to the late summer’s sultry night. In a few more days, autumn would arrive.

The residence was quiet. Someone carrying a lantern walked through the long corridor, the faint light flickering in the night like dancing fireflies, stopping before a room door.

Cui Min pushed open the door and entered his study.

The lights in the room came on.

The surroundings gradually brightened, revealing several medical texts on the long table. Daily cleaning kept everything spotless, and the ink stones were of the highest quality. A green jade bamboo potted plant sat at the table’s corner, its color fresh and bright, very elegant.

The study was large and appeared simple, but all the furnishings and decorations were quite particular.

He sat down before the table.

In the bronze-seated candlestick with its green jade plate, the flickering flame illuminated his face, lighting up the gradually forming lines at his eyes and the few white hairs at his temples, adding a weathered quality he hadn’t possessed before.

Cui Min quietly looked around.

This study had been built under his personal supervision.

In his youth, when he worked as an assistant at a medicine shop, he didn’t even have a place to live, let alone a study. After the shop closed, he would spread a mat in the firewood storage room—sleeping, eating, reading, and learning to write all took place there.

The firewood room was his study.

It wasn’t a good place—stifling in summer, freezing in winter. The mat was often infested with fleas that made his whole body itch, and when the weather warmed, mice would sometimes crawl over him at night.

Back then, he had dreamed that if he ever had his own house, if he could have his own study in a place where every inch of land in the capital was worth its weight in gold, it didn’t need to be large—just big enough to hold his medical books and accommodate a desk and chair.

Later, when he became Academy Director and gradually saved up silver, the first thing he did after buying a residence in the capital was to have craftsmen build this study.

Spacious, bright, filled with medical books, with a fine view from the window.

A hundred times better than what he had dreamed of in his youth.

Wind swayed the tree shadows in the courtyard.

Cui Min pulled his outer robe tighter.

Strangely, when he slept in the firewood room in his youth, eating coarse food and living poorly, he had slept quite well. Even if the roof leaked at night, he would sleep until dawn, only regretting that there weren’t enough hours to sleep and rest.

But now, with a grand mansion, soft silk bedding, incense, cool ice in summer and warm charcoal in winter, he often suffered from insomnia. Even lying on his bed, he would often have no desire to sleep in the middle of the night.

Like tonight—he couldn’t sleep again.

Cui Min rubbed his temples.

Perhaps he was truly getting old.

The study door made a soft sound as a servant entered from outside, carrying a bowl of medicinal soup.

Cui Min glanced at the brown medicinal soup in the bowl and said: “Don’t wake the lady and young master.”

“Don’t worry, master,” the servant replied. “The lady and young master are both asleep.”

Cui Min nodded and reached out to take the medicinal soup from the servant’s hands.

This was a prescription he had written for himself.

When Qi Yutai suddenly fell ill with epilepsy, for over a month he had exhausted himself at the Grand Tutor’s residence, working through the night at the Imperial Medical Academy until dawn.

He hadn’t been so overworked in many years. Though he had managed to endure it before, after Qi Yutai recovered, he gradually showed symptoms of fatigue and weakness.

Cui Min knew he had damaged his heart and spleen, resulting in insufficient qi and blood and poor nourishment of his spirit. Therefore, he had servants daily brew heart-nourishing and spirit-calming Baoyuan Yangxin soup for recovery.

Though the effects weren’t very good.

He raised his hand and drank the bowl of medicinal soup in one gulp, took out a silk handkerchief to wipe the medicine from his lips, and suddenly thought of something. “Has Lu Tong made any moves recently?”

Lu Tong had been away from the Imperial Medical Academy for some time now.

During this period, nothing else had happened at the Imperial Medical Academy. Ji Xun and Lin Danqing had come to inquire several times, all returning empty-handed.

On the surface, Lu Tong had only received the punishment of suspension—this was already him being lenient.

The servant replied: “After Imperial Physician Lu returned to West Street, she has been practicing at Renxin Medical Hall. Today marked the medical hall’s fiftieth anniversary, and Commander Pei, Imperial Physician Ji, and Imperial Physician Lin all went to West Street to offer congratulations.”

“Renxin Medical Hall?”

Cui Min frowned slightly.

He knew this medical hall.

When he had placed Lu Tong first on the spring examination honor roll, he had already had people investigate Lu Tong’s background.

Lu Tong was from Jiangnan, came to the capital to seek relatives from outside the region, somehow ended up on West Street, and because she had some medical skills, began practicing there.

Renxin Medical Hall was a run-down medical hall. The proprietor Du Changqing was a wastrel, and because of Lu Tong’s arrival, the small medical hall had come back to life. Besides Du Changqing, the medical hall also had an assistant and Lu Tong’s maid. After Lu Tong entered the Hanlin Medical Academy, the medical hall hired an old common doctor to practice there.

A bunch of weeds, a motley crew.

Yet they received special regard from Pei Yunying and Ji Xun.

Cui Min laughed coldly.

For commoners to survive in the imperial city, they always needed to find a patron. For women, nothing was easier than climbing high branches.

Lu Tong was very clever, so she maneuvered between Ji Xun and Pei Yunying, playing both proud sons of heaven like fools.

But she was also very stupid, otherwise she wouldn’t have accused him of stealing prescriptions before all the imperial physicians, not knowing when to stop.

The empty medicine bowl in his hand showed shallow traces of medicinal soup dried and adhered to the white porcelain like indelible stains.

Cui Min looked down at it, a trace of contempt flashing in his eyes.

He was indeed wary of Pei Yunying and Ji Xun, but now Qi Yutai’s epilepsy had actually become his lifeline. Even for Qi Yutai’s sake, Grand Tutor Qi wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

Even when beating a dog, one must consider its master. Lu Tong had people behind her, but didn’t he as well?

Each relied on their own backing.

He and Lu Tong were both playthings of the powerful, mere dogs.

As he was thinking, his right eyelid suddenly twitched.

Cui Min reached up to press his eyelid.

These past few days, every few days his eyelid would twitch several times. Cui Min always felt uneasy, as if some great event was about to occur.

He shook his head, about to dismiss this inexplicably absurd feeling, when suddenly, in the night, hurried footsteps sounded.

The gatekeeper’s page ran to the study door carrying a lantern and knelt on the ground: “Master, someone has come from the Grand Tutor’s residence!”

Cui Min was startled.

The ominous feeling in his heart grew stronger. He stood up, staring intently at the person before him: “What has happened?”

The page looked up and spoke anxiously.

“They say Young Master Qi took his medicinal soup and woke up at night, then began having episodes again this evening!”

Cui Min was stunned and involuntarily loosened his grip.

“Crash—”

The shattering sound was particularly harsh in the night.

The white porcelain medicine bowl fell to the ground, remaining soup mixing with white porcelain shards, indistinct under the lamplight.

His face was whiter than the broken porcelain.

He murmured: “What did you say?”

…

Late at night, the Grand Tutor’s residence was more chaotic than during the day.

Hurried footsteps occasionally echoed in the courtyard. Under the dim wind lanterns in the courtyard, suppressed roars and the sound of objects breaking could faintly be heard drifting from window cracks, mixed with thin crying and fierce howling, appearing somewhat terrifying in the dark night.

Inside the room, Qi Qing’s face was grave as water.

Qi Yutai was being held down by two servants, his hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, struggling desperately trying to break free from the restraints of those beside him, hands and feet clawing wildly, claiming someone was persecuting him.

“…He was fine during the day. At dusk he took his medicine and went to bed, but by evening something was wrong.” A maid kept her head lowered, explaining to the hastily summoned Cui Min.

Cui Min looked at Qi Yutai’s condition, his heart sinking like ice.

This appearance clearly showed he was having episodes again, and worse than the last time.

Several suppressed coughs came from within the room.

Qi Qing lowered his silk handkerchief and looked toward Cui Min. His pair of turbid old eyes appeared even grayer under the lamplight, like dead fish eyes that had been dead for a long time, emanating a strange, deathly stillness that chilled the heart.

“Academy Director Cui,” he coughed several times before slowly speaking, “didn’t you say my son’s illness had already been cured?”

Cui Min felt his heart being tightened again by a thin thread, and facing the old man’s pressing gaze, he could barely breathe.

He hunched his back and lowered his head: “My lord, the young master has a slight fever. Previously it was caused by fire-induced fright and pathogenic wind entering the yang channels, wind pathogen entering the blood…”

“Though medication has gradually improved his condition, the young master originally had insufficient heart blood. The fire added blood deficiency, and now with renewed shock and abnormal behavior, it’s still due to organ weakness causing soul damage.”

He wiped sweat from his forehead: “Please give this humble official a little more time. I will do everything possible to treat the young master!”

Qi Qing said nothing.

The gaze from above felt like a heavy stone pressing down on Cui Min’s shoulders. Though the room’s bronze brazier clearly held ice and was refreshingly cool, he felt as if he’d been thrown into a blazing furnace, slowly, slowly breaking out in cold sweat all over.

After a long while, Qi Qing sighed lightly.

The old man’s eyelids lifted slightly, his dim eyes always seeming covered with white cataracts, making his emotions unreadable.

“Thank you for your trouble, Academy Director.”

His tone was calm, as if the person in trouble wasn’t his own son.

“Illness punishes and shortens life; pride in strength leads to violent death. This old man has only one son and daughter. Yutai has been physically weak since childhood, which is why we’ve carefully tended to him year-round to prevent any mistakes.”

“To ensure his safe growth, the Qi family has built bridges, paved roads, and performed good deeds to accumulate virtue and seek blessings. Yet unexpectedly, Heaven is unbalanced, always placing my son in unwarranted disasters.”

He looked toward Qi Yutai being restrained on the bed, his gaze seeming pitying yet tinged with hidden disgust.

“In all of the capital, the Qi family only respects the Academy Director’s outstanding medical skills and medical virtue. Therefore, when Yutai has problems, we must always trouble the Academy Director.”

“This is within this humble official’s duties; I dare not claim credit.”

Qi Qing shook his head: “Since the Fengle Tower fire case, rumors have spread throughout the capital. Only when Yutai returned to the Bureau of Ceremonies did the rumors cease.”

Cui Min’s heart tightened.

He had heard those rumors too—they all said Qi Yutai had gone mad.

“Now that they’ve only recently stopped, if Yutai has problems again…”

Qi Qing looked at Cui Min: “I’m afraid it would be inappropriate.”

“This humble official will definitely cure the young master quickly…”

“Before long, there will be the Tianzhang Platform sacrifice ceremony, a grand palace ritual, with all capital officials attending.”

Qi Qing spoke slowly: “My son must appear before others.”

Cui Min’s heart sank.

From now until the Tianzhang Platform sacrifice, there were less than two months.

In such a short time, could Qi Yutai really recover his clarity?

He looked toward the bed.

Qi Yutai had been held down for a long time and finally exhausted, no longer struggling wildly, but his bloodshot eyes still looked at the people in the room with alarm, sometimes lucid, sometimes frantic.

Cui Min curled his fingers.

He had no confidence whatsoever.

“I know this matter is difficult.”

Qi Qing spoke sadly: “Exhausting one’s heart and strength all for one’s child—how pitiful are parents’ hearts in the world.”

“Academy Director Cui also has children and should be able to empathize with this old man even more.”

Like a basin of cold water poured over his head, Cui Min could no longer speak.

Such kind and gentle words.

Yet such terrifying coercion.

If he couldn’t cure Qi Yutai… if he couldn’t cure Qi Yutai by the August 15th sacrifice ceremony, his children might end up more miserable than the current Qi Yutai.

Qi Qing held his silk handkerchief, lowering his head to cough several times. The snow-white handkerchief was stained with faint red traces.

He raised his hand, and the steward beside him quickly helped him stand.

“Academy Director Cui, Yutai is entrusted to you.”

He patted Cui Min’s shoulder and slowly departed, his back withered and aged, like a strange piece of walking dead wood.

Cui Min hunched slightly, watching his retreating figure, as if something within him was also flowing away with that withered back, leaving only a light, empty shell.

Behind him came the sound of Qi Yutai clapping, accompanied by angry, frightened shouts.

“There’s a dog! Such a big dog! A dog that bites! Help! Help!”

Cui Min closed his eyes.

For a moment, he felt chilled to the bone.

…

The night grew darker and darker, so dark that not a single star could be seen. Heaven and earth seemed to become a giant cave, ready to swallow everything.

But after this ultimate darkness, the distant horizon gradually brightened. A streak of gray-white appeared in the long sky, dispelling some of the darkness.

When Cui Min emerged, it was almost the hour of mao.

Qi Yutai’s maid escorted him to the door. Cui Min gave her a few instructions before walking toward the carriage at the entrance.

Half an hour ago, Qi Yutai had finally fallen asleep.

When people have epileptic episodes, even originally weak people would suddenly gain great strength. Though Qi Yutai wasn’t particularly strong, he was young, and when he went mad he was reckless. Because of his status as the Grand Tutor’s son, the servants in the room didn’t dare use force to restrain him, inevitably getting injured.

Cui Min’s face also bore a scratch from his claws.

He carried his medical box and boarded the waiting carriage at the entrance. His confidant saw the bloody mark on his face and was greatly alarmed, asking: “Academy Director, has Young Master Qi indeed fallen ill?”

Cui Min remained silent.

Not only had he fallen ill, but this time Qi Yutai’s symptoms were clearly much more severe than the last time. He had tried every method but couldn’t calm Qi Yutai. If not for Qi Yutai finally becoming exhausted and falling asleep, who knows how much longer it would have continued.

Cui Min’s expression was extremely ugly. His confidant said: “Young Master Qi’s symptoms had clearly improved before. The sudden episode—could it be he was stimulated again, causing the imbalance?”

“No.”

He had asked Qi Qing about this. Regarding Qi Yutai’s illness, Qi Qing couldn’t possibly conceal anything. During this period, Qi Yutai’s outings were all accompanied, and no abnormalities had occurred.

“That’s strange. Could it be he wasn’t completely cured?”

Cui Min lowered his head, his expression dark.

He had examined Qi Yutai’s pulse, and it was indeed different from before. Previously, though Qi Yutai had epilepsy, except for a slightly weak pulse, everything else was normal.

Now Qi Yutai seemed more like he suffered from brain vessel nourishment loss and insufficient marrow sea. Therefore, no matter what medicine he used or what acupuncture he performed, Qi Yutai had no response.

What could be done about this?

Cui Min was extremely anxious and couldn’t help licking his dry, cracked lips. After working all night, he hadn’t even sat down for a drink of water.

The Qi family had given him a final deadline—during the grand sacrifice ceremony, Qi Yutai must appear clearly before everyone. But now he couldn’t even find a direction. His previous prescriptions had no effect on the current Qi Yutai, but how to create a new prescription…

New prescription…

A figure suddenly flashed through his mind, and Cui Min’s eyes lit up.

Lu Tong—

He wasn’t without options. When he had originally cured Qi Yutai, to prepare an escape route for himself, when Lu Tong accused him of plagiarizing medical prescriptions, he had only suspended her. This was so that if Qi Yutai fell ill again someday, at least there would be one person he could use.

His words had become prophecy.

He suddenly lifted the carriage curtain and said to the driver: “Go to West Street, Renxin Medical Hall.”

His confidant was surprised: “The Academy Director intends to…”

Cui Min let go, and the curtain fell.

The wheels rolled, passing through the boundary between darkness and daylight in the capital. His confidant hesitated: “But Lu Tong was suspended and must resent the Academy Director. Will she really agree to treat Young Master Qi?”

No one spoke.

After a long while, Cui Min spoke: “I will convince her.”

Lu Tong was a genius.

But still just a commoner.

So while the genius Ji Xun could act without restraint at the Imperial Medical Academy, Lu Tong had to endure oppression everywhere. As long as others wanted, they could easily banish her to the South Pharmacy, let lecherous ministers take advantage of her, make her kneel to vicious dogs that bit her.

One’s birth status determined entirely different futures.

He could give Lu Tong what she wanted—what ambitious commoners with talent who considered themselves extraordinary most yearned for. He understood this all too well. If Lu Tong wanted, he could even help her attain the position of Deputy Academy Director.

Moreover, there was the Grand Tutor’s residence.

The hand resting on his knee gradually clenched. Cui Min murmured.

“…I can convince her.”

…

“Swish, swish—”

When dawn was just breaking, the sound of sweeping echoed on West Street.

Early-rising merchants who loved cleanliness had already opened their doors, using bamboo brooms to sweep the dust from their doorways clean, then splashing basins of clear water. The ground was washed spotless, waiting for the sun to rise when this place would become clean and refreshing.

In front of Renxin Medical Hall, the wooden door had long been open. On the wall directly facing the entrance hung a gleaming banner, and a wind lantern sat before the wooden cabinet, making the dim morning even more peaceful.

A carriage stopped under the plum tree.

It was still early, most shops on West Street had their doors tightly closed, and there wasn’t a single pedestrian on the street. Two people jumped down from the carriage, one wearing a brown robe. After getting off the carriage, he looked around, saw the flowing calligraphy reading “Renxin Medical Hall” on the shop sign, paused, then walked toward the shop.

The entrance had been splashed with clear water, leaving it moist. Cui Min lifted his robe to prevent the hem from getting soiled by dirt, stepped over the stone threshold, and entered the medical hall.

The medical hall was empty. The two side rooms had been connected, making the medicine cabinet large, arranged neatly against all four walls. Several medical texts were piled on the table, and a wind lantern burned quietly, its hazy yellow light making the medicine shop extraordinarily dim in the morning.

“Excuse me—”

Cui Min raised his voice: “Is anyone here?”

No one answered.

He frowned and called out twice more.

Suddenly, from deeper within the shop, came a voice saying “Ah” in response, followed by what sounded like something heavy being poked on the ground, making muffled “thump thump” sounds. As this sound approached, the felt curtain was lifted, and someone emerged from inside.

This person wore coarse hemp clothing, had graying hair bound with a cloth headband, leaned on a walking stick, and walked with a limp, like an awkward field mouse. Even his steps carried a stumbling cheerfulness as he said: “I was just organizing medicinal materials in the courtyard. This gentleman—”

He approached, gradually becoming clear in the lamplight—familiar eyes, nose, and mouth, but features assembled into a strange face. He seemed about to say something, but upon seeing Cui Min’s face, instantly fell silent.

This was…

Cui Min’s mind went blank, and for a moment, he cried out involuntarily.

“Miao Liangfang!”

Miao Liangfang froze in place.

Dawn had not yet fully arrived, the boundary between night and day was still chaotic and unclear. That thick white mist seemed ready to envelop everything. In the wind lantern, the dark yellow light seemed to illuminate everything, cold and piercing, revealing every trace of shock and panic on both their faces with nowhere to hide.

In the frozen silence, another voice sounded.

“Master Miao.”

The felt curtain was lifted as Lu Tong walked out from the back courtyard.

Seeing Cui Min, the woman’s eyes showed a moment of shock, as if she too was surprised by his sudden appearance here.

But quickly, she calmed down, placing the dustpan of medicinal herbs in her hands on the table.

“Academy Director Cui.”

Lu Tong walked around the small table in the inner shop and approached him with measured steps, stopping before him with a gentle voice.

“You’ve finally come.”