The sky had just turned pale when Yun Ye got up. It wasn’t that he was particularly diligent, but rather that he had been fumbled by the carbon fumes in the room and couldn’t sleep. The damned charcoal brazier had burned for half the night, bringing little warmth but producing plenty of carbon monoxide. His head felt heavy and dizzy—if he kept sleeping, someone might actually die.
He made a special trip to check on the old lady’s room, then went to the little girls’ rooms to open the doors and windows for ventilation. Fortunately, no poisoning incidents had occurred. The little girls slept soundly, covered warmly by thick fur blankets. After tucking in the corners of their quilts, he quietly walked out of the room. An old servant woman stood outside the window watching, her eyes somewhat moist. This had originally been her daily task, but now their elder brother cared for them. Who knew what virtue these little girls had accumulated in their past lives to have such a considerate and caring brother in this lifetime.
He ran several laps around the garden, then did a complete set of radio calisthenics. Having finished his warm-up, he picked up a spear from the weapon rack and practiced the spear techniques Cheng Chumo had taught him several times. Whether due to his mood or actual improvement in his spear skills, today’s practice had no awkwardness whatsoever—it flowed naturally, perfectly integrated. In high spirits, he let out a wild howl, the spear following his legs as it transformed into a long dragon thrusting toward the target in the courtyard. With a snap, it penetrated the target, the spear’s tail still shaking up and down. Not bad, not bad—hitting the third ring dead center. Just as he was smugly evaluating his own work, he saw Old Zhuang emerge from behind a tree, his face showing lingering fear.
“My lord, this set of Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix spear techniques inherited from Zhao Zilong is becoming increasingly masterful. Hitting the target dead center within five paces—this humble one is truly in admiration.”
“Are you praising me or mocking me? What do you mean ‘hitting the target within five paces,’ what ‘Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix spear techniques’? This is clearly the grand, sweeping battle formation techniques from the military.”
“Then this humble one must have remembered incorrectly. To have served in the military for twenty years yet not recognize military spear techniques—truly deserving of death.”
“Get lost!”
Zhuang Santing rolled away halfway, then came back. “My lord, in the future when you practice with the spear, please don’t practice when there are many people around. This humble one is truly worried about the eight young ladies in the residence—it would be terrible if they were injured by my lord’s domineering aura.” Having said this, he shut his mouth, looking like the picture of loyal devotion.
So be it. Yun Ye sighed. This old man simply wasn’t cut out for martial arts practice. After practicing a set of spear techniques for nearly half a year, people still mistook it for something else, insisting it was taught by Zhao Zilong. He seemed to see the white horse and silver spear of Zhao Zilong gazing at him with grief and indignation.
Transforming grief and indignation into appetite, after swallowing two bowls of millet porridge and planning to swallow another, Cheng Chumo arrived.
This lad brought a cartload of gifts. In the reception hall, he respectfully paid his respects to the old lady, then dragged Yun Ye to the side hall, saying he had come in a hurry this morning and hadn’t eaten breakfast. He asked Yun Ye to make him several pig trotters, plus a large bowl of red-braised pork, sweet and sour spare ribs too, and preferably also a large bowl of that something-or-other head. Last night there had been too little—he’d only eaten a few bites before Old Cheng drove him away. He had deliberately kept his stomach empty to come early in the morning for a big feast.
What kind of person eats such things first thing in the morning? Wasn’t he afraid of getting sick from all that grease? Seeing Cheng Chumo’s hopeful expression, he couldn’t say much more. After all, there was nothing the Cheng family couldn’t digest. He gave instructions to bring up some of the braised pig trotters and braised pig liver from last night, heat up a bowl of steamed pork, and make another bowl of red-braised lion’s head meatballs. Forget it, he’d better do it himself—the kitchen still couldn’t produce the right flavor.
Cheng Chumo leaned against the kitchen doorframe gnawing on a large piece of pig liver, watching Yun Ye cook for him. The two brothers had long since stopped standing on ceremony with each other. What other household would have a guest waiting for food by the door while the male master of the house bustled about in the kitchen—especially a minor duke and a marquis? If word got out, it would absolutely cause a sensation. It might even draw impeachment from the censors.
But the two of them didn’t care. One felt it was perfectly natural to ask his brother for food, the other felt it was perfectly reasonable to cook for his brother. The cook trembled and ran far away, feeling that his inability to satisfy the master’s requirements was a major blemish on his professional career. But this marquis was really too difficult to serve! Last night after tasting the dishes the marquis made, he had wept—this wasn’t food for humans, even immortals probably ate at about this level.
Right there at the small table in the kitchen, Cheng Chumo demolished the table full of dishes like a whirlwind, wiped his greasy mouth, picked up the teapot and poured half of it straight down his gullet from the spout, then finally let out a long breath: “Father wants you. He says to bring your medical equipment and go to Duke Yiguo’s residence.”
“I’m not a physician—if you need medical treatment, find a physician!”
“Father thinks your medical skills are much better than physicians. Besides, what can those quacks do about Uncle Qin’s illness? Huaiyu has been begging me for several days. If it weren’t for the fact that you just returned home and haven’t gotten your family affairs sorted out, he would have come looking for you the very first day. Uncle Qin and Father are sworn brothers—do you think he’ll let you off?” Cheng Chumo said casually while picking his teeth.
Qin Qiong must have anemia. Years of massive blood loss had caused decreased blood production function. His blood had low vitality and insufficient oxygen molecules, resulting in weakness and frequent illness. The slightest headache or fever would leave him bedridden. He wondered if a blood transfusion would help? Following the medical principle of treating people like livestock, he’d just go take a look—if it didn’t work, they’d figure something else out. No matter what, he was at least somewhat better than Tang Dynasty doctors who used lime as wound medicine.
He instructed Liu Jinbao to go to the military camp to bring back his coal stove and get some coal blocks. He told the old lady to find a blacksmith to forge several identical stoves, plus several dozen sections of iron pipe for backup. If they could forge iron kettles, even better. The old lady didn’t want to scold her grandson in front of outsiders, so she simply had the steward aunt go to Ci’en Temple to find some familiar craftsmen. She remembered there were several blacksmiths there. If the items they forged were useful, she would keep them at home. She had made up her mind not to let her grandson’s secret recipes be passed to unrelated people.
Yun Ye took his first aid kit and packed a small bottle of strong liquor, instructing servants to lead out his blue horse, ready to depart. But he saw Cheng Chumo dawdling without moving. “What else do you need to do? I’ve already prepared everything. Let’s go quickly. After examining the patient, I still need to come back and install stoves. Last night I was fumigated by carbon fumes and didn’t sleep well all night.”
“Still missing a few things.” Cheng Chumo looked profoundly mysterious.
Yun Ye checked again—nothing was missing, everything was there. Even the simple stethoscope he had made at the military camp was there. Nothing was lacking.
Cheng Chumo pointed toward the kitchen. He knew Yun Ye’s cooking utensils were all custom-made—Duke Yiguo’s kitchen wouldn’t have them.
“Are you asking me to examine a patient or cook a meal? The house is a complete mess—can’t eat properly, can’t sleep properly. I nearly fell into the cesspit when using the latrine. Just for wiping my butt with a few extra sheets of good paper, Grandmother pointed at my nose and scolded me for a whole day. I can’t live like this! Taking a few extra baths means several of my sisters have to bustle about for half the day. The bed is as hard as a stone slab, the blankets as heavy as being covered with rocks—how am I supposed to survive? I don’t have time to cook, let alone the fact that I can’t even get a bite of green vegetables. Look, I’ve even got hangnails on my fingers.” Speaking of these miserable days in Chang’an City, Yun Ye was truly in tears and snot.
Cheng Chumo looked at him like he was looking at a monster. The meal he’d just eaten might not even be as good as what the imperial family ate, and yet he found it hard to swallow? Who didn’t light braziers in their rooms during the dead of winter? Poor people didn’t even have braziers. Covering oneself with fur was a luxury only nobles enjoyed. When squatting at the latrine, which household didn’t use bamboo scrapers? Only the Emperor used silk, and given His Majesty’s current temperament, he probably also used bamboo scrapers to wipe his bottom. Eating green vegetables? Eating green vegetables in the dead of winter? Wenqiang Jian’s daily production was only about a hundred catties, and supplying the Grand Emperor, the Emperor, and the Empress wasn’t even enough—how could there be extra for others? Even if there was, important court ministers only occasionally received a gift of three or five catties when they were unwell. Who else had ever seen any?
“Brother, living with the old immortal, naturally you wouldn’t lack these things. But you’ve entered the mortal world now, haven’t you? This is how people in the mortal world live. Don’t dwell on it—don’t you still have to live through these hard days?”
After saying this, Cheng Chumo felt he deserved a beating and quickly added: “Duke E has already lost his temper, saying last night’s delicious food didn’t include his portion—that you’re not showing respect to your elders. He wanted to come beat you up, and Father talked him down with great difficulty. Right now he’s waiting for you at the Qin residence with Duke Wei and Duke Ying. Let’s hurry. Once they lose their tempers, won’t it be us brothers who suffer?”
Can’t afford to offend them! These old fellows who came out of bandit nests! With no choice, he could only have servants bring the complete set of kitchen equipment to follow along, seasonings and all.
Too infuriating, truly too infuriating! Why did Old Qin’s, Old Cheng’s, and Old Niu’s families get to live in Taiping Ward while his family had to live in Yong’an Ward? Taiping Ward was separated from the palace gates by just one street, while his home was thousands of miles away! The difference between Tiananmen Square and beyond the Eighth Ring Road in later generations Beijing. Dukes were valuable—did that mean his marquisate was just a dog bone? Even more infuriating was that in front of Old Qin’s house stood two stone lions over a man’s height, fierce-looking and imposing in manner, while his family’s two lions looked like toy poodles? Two iron halberds were even planted beside the gate, supposedly ceremonial implements bestowed by His Majesty Li Er—it made one feel inferior.
Fortunately, one side door of the vermilion main gate studded with copper nails opened. A young man dressed entirely in fur stood before the entrance. Seeing Yun Ye and Cheng Chumo riding fast, he came forward to greet them. “Brother Yun, this younger brother Qin Huaiyu was late in welcoming you. Please forgive me.”
His respectful etiquette and solemn expression made one want to hit him. Yun Ye only thought about it, but Cheng Chumo had already taken action—no, taken foot action. Truly worthy of a martial arts family—kicked in the body, his upper body only swayed slightly while his feet didn’t move an inch.
“Little Ye is my brother. If you dare put on airs again, I’ll kick you to death.” Young Cheng cursed and casually tossed his horse’s reins to a servant, dragging Yun Ye inside. He gave Qin Huaiyu a wry smile and grabbed his sleeve, indicating they should go in together.
“Brother Huaiyu is being too formal. Uncle Qin is unwell—as a junior, I should have come to visit long ago. Coming only today is this younger brother’s fault. Please don’t take offense, Brother Huaiyu.”
“Brother Yun is the disciple of a sage. Hearing Ugly Ox speak of your various exploits, this younger brother has long admired you. A few days ago I planned to visit your residence to pay respects, but Ugly Ox said Brother Yun’s family affairs were complicated, so it didn’t come to pass. Today asking Brother Yun to diagnose my father’s illness—I’m truly ashamed.”
“Are you two finished yet? Uncle Qin is still waiting. If he starts beating people, no one will dare stop him.”
Passing through the flower hall and arriving at the front courtyard, before even entering the moon gate, they heard an angry roar: “You brat! Did you bring the person or not?”