Night had deepened, and southern Jiangsu’s winter was very cold.

Unlike the north, the southern cold carried a dampness—like fine needles piercing bone marrow, the chill drilling straight into one’s heart.

People in the pestilence house always hugged damp bedding, sleeping on cold earth, numbly listening to the wind outside. Night after night, when the next day passed, many would never wake again.

Soon, gray smoke would rise from the execution ground.

Death shrouded this place—a place destined to be covered by death, not worth much thought.

But today was different.

All the bedding had been replaced, and the original floor mats were changed to wooden bed frames. Though narrow, with one bed pressed against another, it was much better than the damp ground.

Burned atractylodes were piled in corners throughout, and the clear, bitter fragrance of medicine gradually spread. Medical officials in gray-blue cotton robes moved about the pestilence house from time to time—their busyness was also reassuring.

“Hope” was a magical thing. Even without doing anything, it seemed like a life-saving remedy. Tonight the moaning in the pestilence house had diminished considerably.

The wind outside whispered softly. The medical officials had all retired to rest. On a narrow wooden bed, a figure gradually sat up.

The little girl first lifted the bedding covering her, leaning over to check on her father sleeping beside her. Seeing her father hadn’t awakened, she tiptoed out of bed and walked to the clay statue in the temple.

The offering table was empty, and the clay statue silently gazed down upon all living beings. Even during the pestilence house’s most crowded times, this statue of gods and Buddha had not been torn down.

No one had lifted a hand, and the county office people hadn’t spoken of it either.

For people in desperate straits, gods and Buddha were their only lifeline.

They could only pray.

Everyone who first entered the pestilence house would kneel on the cushion and pray, as if this could bring a little more peace of mind. But as more and more bodies were carried out, fewer and fewer people came to worship.

Cuicui knelt down on the worn cushion, devoutly looking up at the silent clay statue above.

“Immortal, please bless Cuicui and Father to survive.”

She silently recited this in her heart.

Cuicui was seven years old this year.

Her mother and father served as slaves in a wealthy household. She was the young master’s playmate, and their family of three lived quite smoothly.

When the plague came, everyone was at a loss.

Cuicui also fell ill.

The wealthy merchant threw her out, but remembering past friendship, told her parents to send Cuicui to the pestilence house while the couple could remain in the manor.

Cuicui’s mother refused no matter what.

Sending her to the pestilence house meant waiting to die. Cuicui was still so small and needed care.

Her parents left the wealthy household with Cuicui to care for her alone. But the plague was fierce—no matter how they guarded against it, living together daily, her parents also contracted it.

Later, they couldn’t even get medicine. Many people died in southern Jiangsu, her mother died from illness, and Cuicui and her father returned to the pestilence house.

Father always said: “Don’t be afraid, Cuicui. Father is with you.”

But every morning when she woke up, she could see people beside her who had been fine the day before wrapped in reed mats and dragged out, never to return. Her heart grew increasingly panicked.

She didn’t want to die, and she didn’t want Father to die either.

“Bodhisattva,” she silently recited, kowtowing repeatedly in the lamplight, “save us.”

“Please save us.”

The night was silent. The moaning in the pestilence house had somehow stopped. The north wind howled, beating against the temple door, making the lamplight in the temple sway as if about to extinguish.

A pair of shoes stopped before her.

Cuicui’s body stiffened.

They were cotton shoes covered in mud. Looking up, the gray-blue skirt hem had faint bloodstains and medicinal stains. Cuicui raised her head. In the candlelight, the woman had delicate features, a pair of dark eyes quietly staring at her.

Cuicui shrank back, speaking hesitantly.

“…Medical Official Lu.”

This was a medical official from the Hanlin Medical Academy.

Cuicui remembered this female medical official.

Among the medical officials from the capital, most were around her father’s age. Only three were young medical officials.

The female medical official surnamed Lin was cheerful and loved to laugh, quite beloved by patients. This medical official surnamed Lu had a cold temperament and didn’t like to talk. Cuicui was somewhat afraid of her.

“What are you doing?” Lu Tong asked.

“I’m, I’m praying for divine protection.”

The female medical official looked at her without speaking.

Cuicui inexplicably felt somewhat guilty. With a physician present while worshipping gods, perhaps it was somewhat offensive. She raised her head to steal a glance at Lu Tong, but saw the other showed no signs of anger.

Emboldened, she asked: “Medical Official, will the immortals come save us?”

“No.”

She answered so calmly and ruthlessly, instantly extinguishing all of Cuicui’s hopes. Cuicui’s eyes reddened.

“Then will we die?”

The female medical official looked at her: “No.”

Cuicui was stunned.

“The immortals won’t save you, but I will save you. All the medical officials will save you.” The female medical official’s voice remained flat, but that flatness inexplicably brought some reassurance.

“Doctors exist to save people,” she said.

Cuicui looked at her as tears gradually accumulated in her eyes.

“But I’m afraid.”

She said: “The red spots on Father’s elbow are getting deeper and deeper. Before Mother died, she was like this too.”

The little girl spoke timidly, holding back tears: “Recently, I’ve started getting them too.”

She reached out to roll up her sleeve. On her tender white arm, large patches of red spots bloomed like rippling peach blossoms.

Lu Tong was startled.

Cuicui lowered her head as tears dropped one by one.

She still remembered the last few days before Mother’s death, lying on the ground every night tossing and turning unable to sleep, struggling to suppress painful moans. In southern Jiangsu city’s medicine shops, herbs had long been hoarded by the wealthy. The thin medicinal soup in the pestilence house couldn’t save anyone. She would stare wide-eyed at night, watching Mother’s every movement. But one day she couldn’t resist dozing off, and when she woke, Mother had already been covered with a reed mat, only a dangling arm visible, the red spots deep and bright as purple.

Cuicui began to cry, not daring to cry loudly, sobbing quietly.

“Mother died in the pestilence house. I’m afraid to die, and I don’t want Father to die either…”

The pestilence house was quiet, with occasional rustling sounds of patients turning over. Whether they heard or heard but didn’t interrupt, the crowded temple maintained a oppressive silence.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Suddenly, Cuicui felt someone take her hand.

The female medical official’s hand was cold and soft as she pulled her up from the cushion, saying: “Look.”

Cuicui followed the medical official’s gaze. On the offering table, the offering fruits had long been seized and eaten by hungry people. Only one candle flame sat on the platform.

The candlelight was dim, its yellow glow the only warmth in the cold night. The burning wick sparkled and formed a small lamp flower.

“In ancient times, Lu Jia said, ‘When lamp flowers bloom, all things rejoice.’ There was an ancient method of reading lamp flowers—when lamp flowers continuously burst forth, it foretells great joy.”

Still in that flat tone, Cuicui looked up. The female doctor’s somewhat indifferent eyes shone like jewels in the lamplight.

“No need to worry. This is an omen of great joy,” she said.

Like suddenly gaining a pillar of support, Cuicui’s confused heart instantly found a foundation. She nodded vigorously, looking at the candle flame on the offering table as tears and lamp flowers fell together.

Father would surely be fine. Everyone would be fine.

She looked up at the female medical official before her.

The female medical official stood under the clay statue, deep flames illuminating her face covering. Those slightly cold eyes seemed touched by a trace of shallow compassion.

Like in fairy tales, a female Bodhisattva who suddenly appeared to save people from suffering.

…

The atractylodes in the pestilence house burned and scattered, scattered and burned again. After six or seven consecutive days, mountains of corpses no longer accumulated at the execution ground.

Lu Tong rose early to deliver medicine to people in the pestilence house. Cuicui was very happy to see her, giving her a small grasshopper woven from dry grass.

“Father made it for me.” The little girl sat on the bed, accepting the medicine bowl from Lu Tong’s hands, looking at her: “I’m giving it to you, Medical Official Lu. These past days, Father and I feel much better. Father says we’ll be able to leave the pestilence house before long. When spring comes next year, he can take me to catch crabs by the small river.”

Lu Tong accepted the grasshopper. With no fresh grass in winter, the grasshopper woven from dry grass was soft and limp.

“Medical Official Lu.”

Lu Tong looked up. Cuicui’s father—a dark-skinned man—looked at her, awkwardly rubbing his hands.

Cuicui’s father had previously been a sedan chair bearer for a wealthy merchant’s family. People around called him “Ding Yong.”

Ding Yong patted Cuicui’s head: “This child has troubled Medical Official Lu greatly these past days.”

“It’s my duty,” Lu Tong handed him the medicinal soup.

Perhaps because of being seen praying that night, people with secrets always draw closer. Since then, Cuicui had grown very fond of Lu Tong. Every time Lu Tong came to the pestilence house, she would follow her around, sometimes helping Lu Tong move herbs. If not for her weakness and chills when the illness flared, she looked no different from any ordinary healthy child.

Ding Yong tilted his head back to finish the medicinal soup, still somewhat embarrassed: “The medical officials are busy every day. We’ll never forget this great kindness in our lifetime.”

Though people initially felt hopeful about the medical officials from the capital, they still harbored some doubt—how long could officials from the capital persist here? But as days passed, the medical officials didn’t call for a halt.

The medical officials who came were mostly older. New patients arrived at the pestilence house daily, and people died daily too. The medical officials busied themselves caring for patients, often keeping lamps lit until deep into the night. Sometimes they were so tired they fell asleep sitting up.

Human hearts are made of flesh. The patients in the pestilence house were very grateful.

“I also feel much better than before,” Ding Yong smiled. “Previously I always felt alternately hot and cold with pain throughout my body. Recently the painful periods are much shorter. Cuicui too.”

He extended his elbow: “The red spots have also faded. Doctor, are we almost recovered?”

Lu Tong lowered her eyes.

On that rough, thin arm, the red spots maintained their original appearance, no longer continuing to deepen.

She lowered her head and hummed in acknowledgment.

“Wonderful!” Cuicui cheered, hugging her father’s neck. “When we’re completely better and leave the pestilence house, I want to eat the pancakes Father makes for me!”

“Agreed!” Ding Yong answered with a laugh. Thinking of white flour pancakes, he couldn’t help swallowing.

Lu Tong stood up, collected the empty bowls from patients who had finished their medicinal soup, and left.

She returned to the residence closest to the ruined temple.

The residence was temporarily cleared by Cai Fang for the medical officials to live in. When pestilence house patients rested, a few medical officials stood watch while the remaining medical officials returned to the residence to continue other plague work, making medicine sachets and such.

Lu Tong entered the house. In the main hall, Cui Min was discussing future plague treatment strategies with a group of medical officials.

Southern Jiangsu’s plague was fierce. After arriving here for many days, they first separated all the city’s plague patients from those not yet infected. They regularly burned atractylodes in the pestilence house and made plague-dispelling medicine sachets and plague-avoiding incense for the city’s remaining people.

With these plague measures, at least in recent days, the corpses piled behind the execution ground no longer emitted foul odors—far fewer people died daily from illness.

But the plague remained unresolved. People who fell ill in the pestilence house could only be said to have delayed death’s footsteps, with not a single case of complete recovery.

Still difficult to manage.

Chang Jin said: “Plague cannot be conquered overnight. The urgent matter is reducing the number of newly infected people. However, in southern Jiangsu city, quite a few infected people still refuse to go to the pestilence house.”

Li Wenhu, standing at the back of the crowd, immediately spoke: “What’s difficult about that? I’ll take people door to door. Anyone who seems wrong gets dragged directly to the pestilence house, whether they’re willing or not.”

Ji Xun shook his head: “But plague’s early stages aren’t obvious. The county sheriff can’t be certain about misdiagnosing others.”

Cai Fang looked troubled: “The pestilence house is harsh after all. Among southern Jiangsu’s citizens, some feel that even if they must die, they’d rather die in their own homes…”

Going to the pestilence house meant waiting to die; staying home also meant waiting to die. The pestilence house was crowded and crude—how could it compare to the peace of home?

Human nature.

“Why not put medicine in wells?” Lu Tong spoke.

Everyone turned around. Lu Tong walked forward from the back of the crowd, looking at Chang Jin: “Past plague treatment books have mentioned putting medicinal soup into wells. Why not try it?”

Even if those citizens refused to go to the pestilence house, they still needed to drink water. Drinking water mixed with plague-avoiding medicines might have some effect.

Lin Danqing’s eyes lit up: “That’s also a method. Making plague-avoiding incense and medicine sachets takes time after all. Putting medicine in wells would be much faster.”

Chang Jin frowned slightly: “But how many wells are there in southern Jiangsu city? Our medicinal materials are limited. Which wells would be better for medicine?”

Hearing this, Cai Fang and Li Wenhu lowered their heads in thought. Before they could speak, they suddenly heard Lu Tong say: “Bridge West Temple entrance, East Gate streets and alleys, upstream riverside Qingsi Temple, and in front of Jinbao Food Store by the city’s banyan tree all have wells. These four places adjoin residential gates on all sides with many households drawing water from these wells. If we’re to add medicine, these four places would be best first.”

Cai Fang paused, considering: “East, south, west, north—four places do encompass everything and would maximize medicinal effectiveness to the greatest degree… However,” he looked at Lu Tong, somewhat surprised, “you’re very familiar with southern Jiangsu city?”

He was southern Jiangsu city’s county deputy yet couldn’t immediately state well locations, but this female medical official could speak them fluently and so accurately.

“Medical Official Lu was originally from southern Jiangsu, so naturally she’s familiar with southern Jiangsu,” Lin Danqing explained.

“I see.” Cai Fang took another look at Lu Tong. He had learned from Chang Jin that the three young medical officials who came to southern Jiangsu were all outstanding talents with exceptional medical skills from the Hanlin Medical Academy. This Medical Official Lu didn’t like to talk and usually didn’t like gathering with other medical officials. Most of the time she kept her head down reading medical books or changing medicines in the pestilence house, appearing somewhat aloof.

He hadn’t expected her to be a fellow townsperson.

A sudden sense of kinship arose in his heart. Chang Jin said: “In that case, we’ll trouble County Deputy Cai to lead people to show us these four wells first. If suitable, we’ll start preparing prescriptions today and begin adding medicine to wells tomorrow.” He turned to other medical officials: “Don’t stop making medicine sachets and plague-avoiding incense either. We must constantly tend to pestilence house patients and cannot abandon a single patient.”

The medical officials nodded in agreement. As they were speaking, someone suddenly ran into the courtyard from outside, shouting from afar: “Disaster! Disaster! The medicine and grain have been stolen!”

Everyone was shocked. Li Wenhu shot up: “What?”

The bailiff’s face was full of anxiety, nearly crying: “This morning when the brothers went to get medicinal materials and porridge rice, they suddenly noticed something wrong. The two brothers guarding the storehouse were nowhere to be seen today. Later we found their bodies in the back courtyard… Everything that could be moved from the rice and grain in the room was taken, all during last night!”

Cai Fang listened to the report in a daze, then suddenly pushed open the door and strode out. The medical officials hurried to follow. When they reached the storehouse, Lu Tong, walking at the back of the crowd, looked up to see two corpses covered with white cloth lying in the courtyard. The main gate’s lock was broken beyond recognition, with scattered scraps of medicinal materials inside—clearly ransacked completely.

“We’re finished…”

Cai Fang muttered in despair.

Ji Xun walked forward two steps, his gaze sweeping over the empty storehouse, his expression growing serious: “County Deputy Cai, what exactly happened here?”

This was the county office’s storehouse. With southern Jiangsu’s great plague, citizens didn’t dare leave their homes. How could there be bandits?

“It must be those bastards,” Li Wenhu spat. “Those scoundrels even steal medicine and grain. I’ll dig three feet underground to find them!”

“Who is the county sheriff referring to?” Chang Jin didn’t understand.

“They’re southern Jiangsu’s local snakes.”

Cai Fang stepped back two paces, speaking weakly: “After the county magistrate left, southern Jiangsu fell into chaos. Sheriff Li and I barely gathered the county office people together, but with people panicked, we simply couldn’t manage everything.”

“Medicine shops raised prices, food was scarce, and famine quickly broke out. People in the city gathered local ruffians and hooligans to rob grain door to door. The county office had limited manpower. Those people were desperately vicious and irrational, killing many people.”

“Our people fought with them, with casualties on both sides. Later they were quiet for a while. Now with fewer county office people, they must have been watching when you brought medicine and grain, waiting for their chance to strike.”

The guards who escorted the medical officials usually helped process corpses at the execution ground. If not for this, last night wouldn’t have been so quietly cleaned out of rice and grain.

Li Wenhu stamped his foot: “I’ll go chase them!”

“Chase where?” Cai Fang grabbed him. “We barely have any men left. And chase where? A whole night has passed—the medicine and grain were probably transferred long ago…”

“Are we just letting this go?” Li Wenhu was unwilling. “Without medicine and grain, what do we do next? What do we eat? What do southern Jiangsu’s citizens use? Are we all just going to wait here to die?”

Cold wind blew, scraping faces painfully. The two corpses covered with white cloth in the courtyard appeared increasingly desolate. The medical officials looked at each other, discussing in low voices.

Chang Jin was also anxious.

Suddenly, a bailiff ran from outside the courtyard, saying: “County Deputy, County Sheriff, the medicine and grain have been found!”

“Found?” Cai Fang was shocked, suddenly excited. “Where?”

“Please come see quickly—”

The bailiff led the group running forward. They had just run to about a hundred paces from the city gate when they suddenly heard a series of horse hoofbeats.

Lu Tong looked toward the sound and couldn’t help being stunned.

Below the city gate, a column of cavalry approached from the distance—about a hundred men, all wearing black scale armor with gold embroidery and swords at their waists, their bearing formidable.

The handsome young man at the front wore a great cloak, sitting high on his fine horse, coldly gazing toward the crowd. Not far away, horses dragged several people bound tightly.

Cai Fang was startled: “This is…”

The bailiff who had just run up whispered: “This is the Commander from the capital who was previously quelling rebellion in neighboring counties. Today he passed through southern Jiangsu and casually captured a few people.”

Young Master Pei (strong version) makes a limited return