“Little Yue, you said it yourself.” Shu Song’s eyes lit up as she pulled Zhao Linwei toward the inn’s inner room. “Brother Linwei, let’s go find Master Li for a drink.” “What does this have to do with me?” Zhao Linwei realized what she meant and tried to walk back, but Shu Song pulled him back again.
Nie Qingyue squinted and sighed, thankfully she had insisted on collecting rent from those two old men for the sake of Murong's business. Shu Song had arrived in a hurry without much money and wasn't used to owing money to others, which gave her a perfectly legitimate reason to exploit him.
"You, keep singing." Nie Qingyue instructed the dazed, handsome young opera singer, stretching lazily. "I'm not as rich as Young Master Zhao, but I can add extra dishes for your opera troupe."
Xiao Ling nodded, her beautiful words flowing smoothly as she continued singing that tender love song. Nie Qingyue listened and unconsciously fell asleep. When Xiao He woke her up, a middle-aged man, panting and sweating profusely, was standing in front of her.
"Shopkeeper, this guest says he has an urgent matter."
"Hmm," Nie Qingyue rubbed her eyes, "What?"
The man took out a list from his pocket and handed it to her, along with a small, exquisitely carved wooden tag: "Young Master Yan instructed that these must be delivered to the manager of the Sifang Inn."
Nie Qingyue accepted the gift with some confusion. Yan Shu, of course, didn't know she was the shopkeeper; it was meant for Murong. "Thank you for your trouble."
"No, that's not true." The man seemed to be in a hurry, and immediately mounted his horse and rode away.
Nie Qingyue toyed with the small wooden plaque engraved with "Sanritang" in her hand, but her eyes never left the prescription. It was Yan Shu's handwriting, somewhat messy, and Nie Qingyue had to carefully decipher many of the medicine names to recognize them; the paper was also extremely rough. She held the thin piece of paper back and forth, looking at it several times, without even noticing that Shu Song had somehow managed to get rid of the constantly complaining scholar and come to sit down next to her.
"Tsk tsk, you're practically burning with envy over that piece of paper. If you're so eager to know, why don't you ask that person, Ashu, where he is?"
"That uncle seems to be in a hurry." Nie Qingyue felt a little embarrassed that her thoughts had been exposed, and she folded the prescription and weighed it down with the wooden plaque.
“Sanrito? Never heard of it.” Shu Song leaned closer.
"This is a newly opened clinic in Wuhuang, where they provide free porridge and medicine every three days," a merchant from Wuhuang at the next table remarked. "The number in the shopkeeper's hand is for appointments."
License plate? Nie Qingyue turned it over and saw the word "zero" clearly engraved in capital letters in the lower right corner.
...Zero? Nie Qingyue remained silent, pondering for a long time without finding an answer. Never mind, it's not something for her anyway. She beckoned to Xiao He to send the prescription and other ingredients to Murong in the city.
Two days later, the messenger returned and handed the package to her intact: "Boss Murong said the package is for you. Please go to Sanri Hall in person."
Prolonged neglect leads to stagnation of skills, and prolonged separation leads to estrangement of feelings.
Three Days Hall.
It was less of a medical clinic and more of a small pharmacy at the street corner.
Nie Qingyue, clutching the prescription and the wooden plaque, arrived at the entrance with the small signboard. The two long lines of people before her froze. A service every three days—she had indeed happened to be there.
Nie Qingyue had only taken a few steps forward when she was glared at by people in both lines and pulled back. Not wanting to offend the crowd, she took her number zero token, randomly joined a line, and stood miserably at the very end. The line moved forward at a snail's pace, and Nie Qingyue was practically asleep when it was finally her turn. Before she could even speak, the doctor at the door, who was seeing patients at a table, grabbed her wrist without a word, turned it over, and placed it on her wrist. His long brows furrowed in a deep frown.
"Young lady, your illness..."
"Is there no cure?" Nie Qingyue noticed the doctor's serious expression, which resembled that of a modern doctor giving a patient a critical condition notice, and followed up on the conversation.
“It’s not entirely without hope,” the doctor pondered for a moment, “but…”
After waiting for a long time without any response, Nie Qingyue looked at the familiar scene and was speechless: "Hmm, I understand."
"Huh?" The doctor, who had been hesitating for a long time, was a little confused.
"Is it necessary to use the Tianshan snow lotus, which blooms only once every fifty years, as a medicinal ingredient? And that flower only finished blooming forty-nine years ago. If we want to get it this year, we have to climb snow-capped mountains and cross grasslands and so on." That's how it's described in martial arts stories. Nie Qingyue nodded to herself with certainty.
"...No." The doctor took a long time to process this before calmly shaking his head.
"So that means there's only one reclusive master in the world who can cure my illness, and this master happens to be living in seclusion in some valley or some island, and his whereabouts are hard to find. I'd better set off tomorrow or something like that." Nie Qingyue was probably getting dizzy from waiting, and he wanted to test what could be more absurd than time travel.
The doctor was stunned and bewildered when he suddenly heard a light, cheerful laugh. Only then did Nie Qingyue notice a child of about eight or nine years old standing behind the doctor. Half of his hair was tied up high, and he stood quietly dressed in a blue robe.
She has bright, round almond-shaped eyes and fair skin with a rosy tint.
Nie Qingyue stared blankly at the exquisitely beautiful child before her, who also looked at her with bright, round eyes. She wanted to pinch him, but she restrained her restless right hand with a mixture of pain and composure.
The doctor snapped out of his reverie and coughed lightly to bring Nie Qingyue back to her attention: "Has the young lady been physically weak since childhood?"
"Yes." Nie Qingyue replied seriously, "It's only gotten better in recent years."
The doctor's expression suddenly turned serious, and he shook his head disapprovingly: "How can this be considered a recovery? It's just a case of being outwardly strong but inwardly weak. You'll easily feel tired and often lack energy."
Nie Qingyue nodded vigorously, "I almost fell asleep while we were lining up."
"The young lady needs to take good care of her health and avoid overexertion, especially when it's cold, she should not go out."
"Ah," Nie Qingyue murmured with some regret, "I still want to go see the snow in the northern border region next year."
"Nonsense! A young lady's body certainly cannot withstand the icy and snowy weather of the northern frontier." The doctor's tone suddenly became stern, and Nie Qingyue was slightly startled. She let go of the wooden plaque she was holding and jumped onto the small wooden table.
The boy picked up the wooden plaque with his round little hands and turned it over. His eyes lit up when he saw the words carved on it. Nie Qingyue didn't pay much attention and just nodded respectfully like a scolded schoolchild: "No, I won't go."
"Sir, this lady is a guest we had an appointment with." A child's clear voice rang out, interrupting the doctor's lecture. The doctor glanced at the wooden sign, then frowned and exploded again: "Why didn't you say so earlier, young lady? She's been standing outside in this chilly spring weather for most of the day..."
Nie Qingyue responded with "uh-huh" and "yeah," inwardly both amused and exasperated. This seemingly scolding nagging actually reflected a doctor's most direct concern for his patient. The boy, seeing Nie Qingyue's timid demeanor, suddenly smiled mischievously, walked to her side, grabbed her sleeve, and pulled her away: "Sister, do you still have a prescription on you?"
"Yes, yes." Confused, Nie Qingyue followed the boy into the Sanri Hall.
The doctor, who was muttering to himself, looked surprised when the little girl took his hand and led him inside. He didn't say anything, but just sighed softly, "They've finally arrived."
The interior of Sanrito was larger than I had imagined; the medicine cabinet alone occupied three walls.
The boy in blue, holding the prescription written by Yan Shu, deftly used a small bamboo ladder to open cabinets from all sides to retrieve the medicine. Finally, he walked to a small, locked cabinet and took out a black wooden box. He skillfully and deftly used a white cloth to pack the black wooden box and a large bundle of medicine into a bundle, which he then carried on his back. He tugged at Nie Qingyue's sleeve again: "Let's go."
Where to?
"My sister's house." He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"What?"
...Nie Qingyue watched the boy in blue intently reading a medical book from inside the smoothly moving carriage, speechless for a long time. Could it be considered "forced" child trafficking by her to take this young boy from the medical clinic back in such a muddled way? Yet the child seemed quite at ease, while she herself, sometimes doubting and sometimes regretting, seemed more like the one who had been trafficked.
"Are you... are you sure you're here to help me cure my illness?" Nie Qingyue asked for the third time, still somewhat doubtful.
The young medical apprentice put down his medical book and looked at her with a mature air, a far cry from his usual boyish demeanor: "I am Yan Yuche, the last disciple of Brother Yan."
"Pfft~~~!" Nie Qingyue couldn't help but laugh, and her body swayed and she fell to the side of the carriage.
Little Yan Yuche was not having it. She pouted slightly, her bright black eyes showing seven parts resentment and three parts grievance: "I really am."
"Yes, I believe you. Really." Nie Qingyue nodded earnestly, emphasizing her words. Divine healers often emerge from among the young; her husband had cured the plague in Mojing at the age of thirteen, so it was no surprise that the intelligent young boy before her could administer acupuncture and prepare medicine. However, it always had a touch of childish amusement when a child acted as serious as an adult.
"Did Yan Shu send you?" This young disciple knows very little about the people around Yan Shu.
"They just told me to come to the newly opened Sanritang in Wuhuang and wait for a guest who was carrying a prescription and a wooden plaque with the prescription and acupuncture needles, and then to prepare the medicine and administer acupuncture for her on time." The serious tone was completely ruined by the childish voice and the tilted head.
Nie Qingyue covered her slightly smiling mouth with her hand to avoid stepping on the child's tail again, but then she realized what she meant and couldn't help but wonder: "But they didn't ask you to come with me."
The young healer, Yu Che, looked at her pitifully and asked, "Sister, don't you like me?"
Nie Qingyue hesitated before speaking, "...I really don't like children." Little Yu Che was probably hearing this answer for the first time. After a long pause, his little mouth opened blankly, but he couldn't utter a single word.
Sighing with guilt, Nie Qingyue turned her head away, secretly laughing as her shoulders trembled slightly. Suddenly, a chubby, white hand tugged at her sleeve, and a trembling voice came from beside her ear: "Sister, can the carriage... can it go back?"
As soon as Yan Yuche arrived at the inn, he completely ignored her.
Well, she knows it's wrong to lie to children, but does that mean he has to treat her like a bad guy who would abuse him and keep his distance? Nie Qingyue regretted her actions and pounded the table.
Shu Song's enthusiastic voice soon rang out from above: "Little Yue, where did you bring such a boy back?"
"They say he was Yan Shu's 'closed-door disciple'."
"How could I not know?!" Shu Song's surprised look made Nie Qingyue feel a little better, but after thinking for a moment, he pondered and said, "I think... there is only one reasonable reason."
"ah?"
"This boy is Ashu's illegitimate son."
"... = = Young Master Shu, how extraordinary and unconventional is your normality?"
"It's all because I heard from a merchant from a border town today that he saw Ashu marry the daughter of a local gentry. It's made me think about this all day long." Shu Song said, scratching his head in distress.
"Oh, I see." Nie Qingyue expressed her full understanding, patted her belly and called out, "Xiao He, tell the kitchen to cook a few dishes and boil some water for me. I'm exhausted from sitting in the carriage for so long."
"Little Yue, are you even listening?"
"Hmm, listen, Young Master Shu, please continue."
...
The spring chill lingers, with continuous drizzle; the bright summer brings lush greenery.
Half a year has passed in the blink of an eye, but the people and things surrounding Nie Qingyue have not changed.
When she occasionally quieted down, she would feel more and more that the connection between people was an incredibly wonderful yet contradictory thing, as it has always been throughout history. For example, after letting go of her prejudices, she unexpectedly became drinking buddies with Zhao Linwei; for example, a chance encounter led to her being separated from Yan Shu for more than half a year. These reflections were just fleeting thoughts; right now, she was leisurely fishing by a small pond in the woods on the outskirts of the city.
Since the Wuhuang Teahouse business stabilized after spring, Murong returned to the inn to resume management, allowing Nie Qingyue's intermittent leisurely life to continue steadily for a long time. In the era before the development of tourism, there were never many tourists at the natural scenic spots in the suburbs. Nie Qingyue would occasionally see two or three scholars and literati with refined tastes reciting poems and composing verses about spring flowers and summer rain, but there were many more leisurely people who came regularly every day and truly loved tranquility. For example, there was the middle-aged monk in the small temple at the foot of the mountain who came to meditate or fetch spring water every day, and there was the elderly couple who were nearly seventy years old and came to relax every three days, supporting each other.
Nie Qingyue couldn't remember how she discovered this place, only that she fell in love with the environment almost at first sight. Surrounded by shady trees on all sides, the winding stream slowly converged in the center to form a clear, cool pool, which, reflected in the tinkling water, appeared even more serene.
But even in this time that should have been peaceful and quiet, Nie Qingyue couldn't resist the temptation to swim a few laps. The summer temperature was dry and hot, and even hiding in this shady place to escape the heat was not as refreshing and pleasant as being in cool, cold water.
Should she go down? Nie Qingyue pondered for a moment, looking around the small pool. A man had appeared by the pool, fishing comfortably against a smooth boulder. He still loosely gripped his bamboo fishing rod, yet he seemed to be asleep. His open, dark blue brocade book covered most of his face, revealing only his thin jawline and slightly pursed lips. His loose white robe was stained with the dust of the pool's edge, but he seemed unconcerned, half-sitting on the ground and half-leaning against the rock, sleeping soundly and peacefully.
Nie Qingyue hesitated for a moment, then took off her shoes and socks and immersed her legs in the clear stream water, gazing impatiently at the shimmering, golden surface of the water in the distance.
In the midst of the prolonged tranquility, a sudden "plop" sound of someone falling into the water was particularly noticeable. Nie Qingyue looked in the direction of the sound and saw the remaining water splashing on the surface of the pool. The boulder where the fisherman was leaning against was empty except for a book that was open at an angle.
He fell while turning over? Nie Qingyue was stunned and didn't react for a moment.
The reflective water remained still for a long time. Nie Qingyue anxiously leaned out to look, but couldn't see a single person. Should she...should she swim down and take a look?
As she was struggling to make a decision, she suddenly felt a tight, downward force around her ankle. All she knew was that she panicked, lost her grip on anything, and was about to fall into the pool.
Chapter 25
As the cold water was poured over her, Nie Qingyue instantly felt a wind rise around her.
There was no one at the bottom of the pool. She choked on several mouthfuls of water before surfacing. Looking around the water, she realized that she was the only one who had fallen in.
Looking again at the large rock by the pool, the man who had pulled her into the water had already reached the shore. His wet black hair was still dripping with clear stream water, and he was leaning against the rock, leisurely twisting his wide white sleeves, completely unaware of his disheveled state.
Nie Qingyue felt helpless, delighted, and at a loss for words. After a while, she forcefully waved her hand underwater, sending a large spray of water towards the man, but unfortunately, only a few drops reached the shore.
The man sat there without flinching or dodging, smiling faintly as he gently squeezed out water from his sleeve, creating a stark contrast to the pitiful little splashes she flicked away.
This person did it on purpose.
Nie Qingyue ground her small white teeth together, let out a soft hum, and finally let go, swimming away as nimbly and smoothly as a fish, though the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up slightly. "Oh well, since I've already fallen in," she told herself. The cool water, mixed with a dubious sense of joy, enveloped her entire body, making her feel instantly refreshed.
I can't remember how many laps I swam, but I know I haven't felt this good in a long time. However, stamina is still an issue. When she dragged her slightly tired body ashore, the rock was empty again, and the blue thread-bound book was still lying there all alone.
Nie Qingyue slowly squinted, only managing to catch a glimpse of the white sleeve of the person disappearing into the woods. Very well, she stood there for a while, then sneezed, jolting her whole body. Without the slightest hesitation, she bent down and picked up the "Treatise on Febrile Diseases," which had been abandoned by its owner twice, and quickly followed the trail of water into the woods.