Why would Chen Baoxiang have thought of that?
He had always assumed she was foolish and kept his guard low — but that question made Zhang Zhixu abruptly aware that Chen Baoxiang was a person, and moreover a person who clung to life and would be extremely capable of unraveling his plans.
He rapidly reviewed every moment of their time together, and then asked, brow deeply furrowed: Why did you think I would add poison?
If you didn’t, isn’t his illness too easy to cure?
Chen Baoxiang gave him an exasperated look. This is exactly what I mean when I say you’re too removed from the world. Any self-respecting physician in the real world mixes a little something extra into the medicine — nothing lethal, just enough to drag the illness out. That way the family grows desperate, and when you finally cure him, the reward they give you is all the more generous.
Zhang Zhixu had listened with a grave expression at first, but by the end of it, he wiped a hand over his face and laughed despite himself.
You wanted me to add poison just to collect a bigger reward?
What other reason would there be? We’ve suffered through a shoulder wound doing all this work — if we don’t make something extra out of it, wasn’t it all a terrible loss?
Zhang Zhixu: …
The heaviness he’d been carrying dissolved entirely. He closed his eyes for a moment, then said with resignation: What you’re describing isn’t called a physician — it’s called a fraud.
Oh, is that right.
She laughed dryly. Fair enough — we’re an honorable disciple of the Physician God and junior niece to the great Physician Wang. We can’t be going around doing things like that. Best to cure the man properly and honestly —
Before the words were even finished, Zhang Zhixu’s hand moved — the needle came down — and Cheng Huaili’s eyes snapped open.
Chen Baoxiang startled and immediately threw her sleeve up over her face.
“Quickly — the General is awake! Give him the medicine first.” Physician Wang stepped in to take her place, calling out instructions. “Once this bowl is down, we can remove the arrowhead tonight.”
“Physician Wang — are you certain?” Cheng’an hesitated. “The General was put through considerable strain yesterday. His vital energy has already been damaged.”
“We can’t afford to wait any longer. If the wound festers, not even a god could save that leg.”
The imperial physicians all nodded in unison and began their respective preparations. Sun Sihuai, with his extensive knowledge of medicinal herbs, was invited by Physician Wang to oversee the medicine room.
Chen Baoxiang returned to her guest room, opened the window, and looked out at the busy courtyard next door.
“How wonderful it must be to have money,” she said, resting her chin in her hand. “To preserve one leg, a hundred-odd people are running all over Shangjing on his behalf — the finest medicines, a roomful of imperial physicians and renowned healers.”
Zhang Zhixu listened, and found himself asking: “And if this were a poor family — what would happen, injured like this?”
Chen Baoxiang smiled. “That would be a sorry state indeed. Never mind the leg — they’d be lucky to keep their life.”
“Shangjing has many fine medical halls, doesn’t it? Even common people can go.”
“You said it yourself — the good ones are only in Shangjing.” Her eyes grew distant. “Back in my home village of Yuexian in Sanxiang — a village of over two hundred households — there was only one wandering folk physician. Old Neighbor Liu had his leg broken by a powerful man’s people, and he lay there wailing in agony for three days and three nights with no one to treat him. It was quite pitiful.”
Zhang Zhixu felt a jolt run through him.
Something struck him in the chest — hard. Anger and indignation surged up like boiling water, only to be forcibly pressed back down, leaving a scorched, aching weight over his heart.
At a loss, he pressed a hand over his chest and frowned. “Were you close with old Neighbor Liu?”
“Not at all. He was the most cantankerous man you ever met. Every time I walked past his door, he’d find something to curse at me for.”
“Then why are you feeling this way right now?” Zhang Zhixu was genuinely puzzled.
Chen Baoxiang’s smile stayed breezy, and she didn’t answer the question. She only said, “Look — what’s all that commotion below?”
Zhang Zhixu followed her gaze and indeed found the courtyard next door in a flurry — heads moving everywhere, occasional shouts of urgency cutting through the noise.
He smiled faintly. “Who can say — perhaps something went unexpectedly wrong.”
Chen Baoxiang smiled too. “What a run of bad luck for General Cheng.”
With quiet, mutual understanding, neither of them brought it up again. They sat in the room and ate their evening meal with considerable contentment.
“The cook seems to have found his touch again. This meal is quite good.”
“Haven’t you heard what the elders say, Great Immortal? A good mood sharpens the appetite.”
“My mood is fine — but what exactly are you so pleased about?”
Chen Baoxiang grinned. “I can see Young Master Pei heading this way with Shoumo.”
Zhang Zhixu turned — and indeed, Pei Ruheng stepped through the doorway. Shoumo followed behind him, carrying two fresh dishes.
“I couldn’t eat alone.” Pei Ruheng’s complexion was quite pale. He sat down across from her and said quietly, “Better to eat together.”
Chen Baoxiang looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “You seemed perfectly fine before — what’s happened, Young Master?”
Pei Ruheng pressed his lips together, and after a long pause, said: “My uncle’s leg — it looks like it cannot be saved.”
“How can that be?” Chen Baoxiang set down her chopsticks, her face creased with alarm. “Hasn’t he already received the needling and taken the medicine?”
Zhang Zhixu couldn’t help but feel a quiet admiration — Chen Baoxiang was mediocre at most things, but when it came to putting on an act, she was an expert. Had he not spoken with her just moments ago, he’d have believed she was genuinely surprised.
“The Blood-Replenishing Herb was indeed used, and the physician truly gave everything he had.” Pei Ruheng lowered his eyes. “But my uncle’s wound was too deep. It festered all the same. To preserve his life, the entire right leg had to be taken.”
The Blood-Replenishing Herb and the Blood-Corrupting Herb looked nearly identical — the only difference lay in the faint serration pattern along the leaf’s edge. The former healed festering and stanched blood; the latter rotted wounds and poisoned the blood.
Zhang Zhixu lowered his eyes and asked, in a tone carefully shaped to sound regretful: “It has already been done?”
“Yes.” Pei Ruheng was deeply distressed. “My uncle is such a proud man — I don’t know if he’ll be able to bear it when he wakes.”
Hearing this, Zhang Zhixu felt satisfaction — though not as much as he might have expected, because Cheng Huaili had ultimately kept his life.
Yet somewhere inside, a wildly jubilant surge of emotion rose up unbidden — like a smudge on white paper wiped perfectly clean, like a book shelved crookedly finally set flush with all the others. It was deeply, wholly satisfying. Immensely gratifying.
He had to dig his fingers into Chen Baoxiang’s thigh to keep himself from laughing out loud.
Chen Baoxiang winced and bared her teeth — which happened to look exactly like an expression of grief: “What a loss. General Cheng, a hero of his generation — and now he can never return to the battlefield.”
Pei Ruheng sighed. After two bites of food, he looked up at her again. “You’ve been exhausted lately, and you still have the shoulder wound on top of it. Rest here a few more days before you leave.”
Chen Baoxiang’s eyes went wide. Great Immortal — is he trying to show me the door the moment the General’s leg couldn’t be saved? All that usefulness spent, and now he’s disposing of me?
Zhang Zhixu pressed his fingers to his temple. The point of what he said was clearly that he wants you to stay longer.
But the implication is still that I’ll be leaving.
Obviously — what respectable unmarried young woman takes up permanent residence in someone else’s household?
Zhang Zhixu thought it over. Use these few days well — build on the connection between you two. Perhaps by the time you leave, he’ll feel reluctant to let you go and will promptly go to your home to propose.
What a wonderful picture that painted. Chen Baoxiang couldn’t help grinning.
But feelings were strange things — she’d been working at this for so long with so little to show for it. What would suddenly make Pei Ruheng want to marry her?
She was still puzzling over it when Pei Ruheng himself extended an invitation: “After dinner — would you like to come up to the high tower in our estate and take in the view?”
“Yes, yes, absolutely.” She accepted at once.
From the courtyard next door came several cries. The medicinal fragrance in the air had been overtaken by the thick, metallic scent of blood.
Chen Baoxiang cast a sideways glance toward the window.
The moon was clear and bright. The lanterns burned steady and warm. Perhaps retribution did exist in this world after all.
She turned her gaze away with quiet indifference, turned her head, and went back to smiling at Pei Ruheng — shy and trembling and every bit as luminous as a flower in the breeze.