“Arriving at Chang Ling County Station — passengers disembarking, please take your luggage and move quickly.”

At the sound of the conductor’s voice over the loudspeaker, Ling’ai slowly drew her gaze in from the window.

She had not brought much — just a small leather case with some daily necessities and medicine inside.

Ling’ai followed the stream of passengers off the train. At a roadside stall, she bought a map — hand-drawn and printed, not entirely clear, but legible enough if you studied it carefully.

She searched the map intently. She didn’t know the exact location of the place she was looking for, only that she had heard him mention the name before, and that he had said the scenery there was beautiful. Right — there were wide stretches of peach trees; every spring, ten li of peach blossoms bloomed in full splendor, a sight truly lovely to behold.

It was not yet the season for peach blossoms, of course. What awaited her now would be nothing but bare and naked branches.

“Miss, where are you headed?” A cart driver came running up eagerly. He wasn’t dressed warmly enough, his face flushed red from the cold, but he approached every passenger who stepped off the train to ask.

“I’d like to go to Peach Blossom Village.” Ling’ai pointed to a spot on the map. “Can you take me?”

“Peach Blossom Village? That’s quite far.” The driver said. “By my cart, it’ll take four or five hours.”

“That’s all right. As long as we can get there.”

“Miss, my cart has no canopy. In this weather, sitting out in the open for four or five hours — are you sure a delicate young lady like yourself can manage?”

“No matter.” Ling’ai smiled. “I’m dressed in layers. It’ll be fine.”

The driver grinned back, simple and good-natured. “Peach Blossom Village is far, so the fare will be a bit more.”

“Name your price.”

The driver didn’t ask for an unreasonable amount; the two settled on a price and were ready to set off.

The driver helped Ling’ai load her case onto the cart, then propped up a screen to block the wind. It wouldn’t keep out the chill, but it would stop the cold air from blowing directly into her face.

On the cart lay a thick fur blanket — the driver said he’d bought it from a hunter, bearskin, very warm.

“Miss, what are you going to Peach Blossom Village for?” The driver flicked the reins. As the white horse began to trot, the bell on its neck rang without stopping.

“A friend once mentioned it. I had nothing else to do, so I thought I’d go and have a look.”

“Peach Blossom Village is a wonderful place. The peaches there are big and sweet — we locals call it Sweet Peach Village.”

“I’ve heard the scenery there is beautiful.”

“Beautiful mountains, beautiful water — a fine place indeed.” The driver laughed heartily. “I worked there for a few years myself, helping people pick peaches. But then I hurt my leg and couldn’t stand for long stretches anymore, so I left the village.”

“Driver, are there any families with the surname Zheng in Peach Blossom Village?”

“In Peach Blossom Village? Eight out of every ten families are surnamed Zheng. The village has another name — Zheng Family Ravine.”

“Zheng Family Ravine.” Ling’ai repeated the name quietly. That surname — Zheng — felt strangely close to her heart.

Because Peach Blossom Village produced peaches, and the quality was very good, the road connecting the village to the outside world had been repaired many times. Though still an earthen road, it was very smooth.

Ling’ai sat on the cart, buffeted by the wind. Though she was a little cold, she didn’t find it hard to bear.

Along both sides of the road stretched withered grass and bare branches, with little scenery worth looking at. But occasionally a small stream would come into view; the ice had melted and thin rivulets trickled along, a sight that brightened the eyes.

Every so often the driver had to halt the horse to let it rest and graze and drink.

Ling’ai had brought food with her, and she shared some with the driver. The driver was full of gratitude.

“Miss, which city did you come from?”

“Shun Cheng.”

“Shun Cheng — a big city.” The driver’s eyes were full of admiration and longing. “But I hear there’s going to be a war. Alas — nowhere is peaceful anymore.”

“Don’t worry. We will win for certain.”

“That’s right, that’s right. The Young Marshal is both civil and martial, and we in Bei Di have powerful forces. We will win this war. We must drive those bad people from Xi Nan away.”

By evening, the cart finally reached Peach Blossom Village. Ling’ai jumped down, paid the driver, who tried to return the money for the meal she had shared — but Ling’ai wouldn’t take it. She thought of the long night’s drive back ahead of him, which was hard enough work on its own.

“Miss, there’s no inn in this village — you’ll have to find a family to take you in for the night. Don’t worry though, the people here are all good folk, no bad elements.” The driver offered as a parting word. “There’s a barefoot doctor’s house in the village — you could try there.”

After the driver left, Ling’ai picked up her case and entered the village.

She wasn’t sure why, but the moment she saw this village, she felt an immediate sense of warmth and familiarity. Listening to the driver’s descriptions along the way, her impression of the place had only grown better.

“Miss.” An elderly man by the roadside called out to Ling’ai. “Coming from the city, are you? Visiting relatives?”

Ling’ai smiled. “I’ve heard the scenery here is lovely. I’ve come to have a look.”

“You’ve come at the wrong time for that. There’s no fine scenery right now — the peach trees are all bare and stripped. You should come in spring, that’s when it’s worth seeing. Peach blossoms across the whole mountain, as far as the eye can see and then some.”

The old man paused and then asked: “Do you have any relatives in the village?”

“No.” Ling’ai shook her head.

“Then go to the barefoot doctor’s house to stay the night. Just give him a bit of tobacco money. All the visitors from outside stay there.”

The old man kindly pointed out the way: “Walk straight ahead until you reach the place with the flagpole, then turn right — red-lacquered door.”

Ling’ai thanked the kind old man and followed the direction he had given until she found that red-lacquered door.

The barefoot doctor’s courtyard was large enough, with buildings on three sides, and the yard was kept clean and tidy.

The barefoot doctor appeared to be in his sixties, his hair all white, yet his voice when he spoke was resonant and full of vigor, and his manner was warm and enthusiastic.

“Just call me Doctor Sun.” He said. “Stay as many days as you like. The food is my own cooking — if you don’t mind the humble fare, you’re welcome to eat with me.”

Doctor Sun was quite a talker. When he learned that Ling’ai also knew medicine, the two immediately found common ground.

They talked for a long while. When Doctor Sun saw it was getting late, he sent Ling’ai off to rest.

Deep in the night, Ling’ai lay in this unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar place — and yet she felt utterly settled. She felt that she had never been so close to him as she was now.

The next morning, no sooner had the rooster crowed and the sky begun to lighten than Ling’ai was roused by sounds from outside.

She got out of bed and pushed open the door, to find figures moving about in the courtyard.

Several people were standing outside Doctor Sun’s room, all of them anxiously peering in.

Ling’ai walked quickly over. On Doctor Sun’s bed lay a small boy of six or seven, who was at that moment clutching his stomach and rolling in pain.

Doctor Sun was asking: “Did you eat something bad?”

Nearby stood a young couple — clearly the boy’s parents — both looking very young.

“Tonight we had rice porridge and potatoes. Little Xing ate the same food as us, so it shouldn’t be the food.”

Hearing the young man speak, Ling’ai felt an odd sense of familiarity. Looking at his profile, she also had a feeling she had seen him somewhere before.

Doctor Sun asked a few more questions, and the boy’s parents answered honestly.

“Let me try giving the child some hot water first,” Doctor Sun said. “It’s hard to diagnose anything definitive just yet.”

“But what are we to do? Doctor Sun, the child has had stomach pain the whole time — he’s even broken out in a cold sweat from the pain.” The boy’s mother was so anxious she was in tears. Her husband split his attention between worrying about the child and comforting her.

“Doctor Sun, let me take a look.” A clear, bright voice rang out, drawing everyone’s gaze.

Doctor Sun saw Ling’ai coming over and quickly waved her in: “This young woman has come from the city and knows medicine — she may know far more than this old fellow. Let her have a look. Perhaps she can find a solution.”

The young couple immediately thanked Ling’ai, which made her feel a little self-conscious.

“I only know the basics.” Ling’ai hastened to say. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find the answer.”

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Ling’ai began to examine Little Xing.

“When the child sleeps at night, does he have convulsions, grind his teeth, or wake up in sudden fright?”

The young man nodded at once: “Yes, yes he does.”

“He has a poor appetite and often feels nauseous. And the stomach pain — it hasn’t just started today, has it?”

The couple nodded repeatedly, looking at Ling’ai with growing expectation.

“It should be roundworm disease,” Ling’ai said. “The child plays in the dirt often and has become infected with roundworms. The worms grow inside the stomach, and over time, they cause all these symptoms.”

“Then — then what do we do?”

“First, we kill the worms. Once the worms are dead, the child’s illness will naturally resolve. For now, he can take some medication to ease the pain, and drink plenty of warm water.”

Doctor Sun said from the side: “Ah, roundworm disease. The children in our village get stomach pains all the time, and none of us knew what was wrong.”

“Yes, yes — my child gets stomachaches too.”

A relative standing nearby couldn’t help but chime in: “None of us knew what kind of illness it was. We’d just give them some medicine, but it only treated the symptoms, not the root cause.”

Doctor Sun stroked his short beard and asked humbly: “Miss Ling, what medicine is used to treat this?”

“In herbal medicine, Jun Zi Wan and Wu Mei Wan can be used, combined with enemas and acupuncture.”

“Jun Zi Wan? Wu Mei Wan?” Doctor Sun said. “But we don’t have those medicines here.”

“It’s all right — both are compound pills, and the ingredients needed for them are not difficult to obtain.” Ling’ai had read widely in medical texts but had little practical experience, so when she had examined Little Xing just now, she had honestly felt uncertain. Now, finding that her knowledge matched Little Xing’s situation, she felt her confidence return fully.

“I’ll write out a prescription. Doctor Sun, would you be able to gather the herbs? If there are silver needles available, that would be ideal — I can use acupuncture to relieve the pain first.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Doctor Sun jumped up and went to the inner room, returning quickly with a box. He blew the dust off it, looking a little sheepish. “This was passed down to me by my master. I’m afraid I never learned the craft well and gave it up long ago — but I kept it in good condition. It’s as good as new.”

Doctor Sun handed the box to Ling’ai. Everyone in the room looked at her with full and hopeful expectation.