Cheng Ying murmured that there was a way. It seemed her own grandmother might still have a chance to go into the city with her.

It was just that, for a moment, she couldn't fathom what her grandmother was hesitating about. The next morning, Cheng Ying, along with her birth mother and Chi Wu, headed up the mountain carrying their baskets.

Cheng Ying patted the stack of money tucked inside the lining of her cotton-padded jacket, feeling utterly vexed. Since the night before last, with people coming and going constantly in the house, Cheng Ying hadn't had a chance to enter her internal space.

When lying in bed at night, Cheng Ying would reach out to touch the money, intending to transfer it into her space, but no matter how she tried, it wouldn't go in. This was a first.

Cheng Ying had experimented; as long as she was touching an object, she could usually send it into her space. But this stack of money stubbornly remained an exception.

The old lady slept lightly at night, and besides, wasn't her own grandmother in a foul mood? Cheng Ying dared not enter the space herself along with her grandmother; she worried that making the old lady suddenly vanish and reappear might scare her to death.

So, the money stayed tucked away in the pocket of Cheng Ying's padded jacket. For Cheng Ying, it felt akin to carrying a live bomb—this was the money for her stepfather's medical treatment.

Her own mother, too, seeing such a large sum, hadn't asked for it yet. Of course, Cheng Ying didn't know that Yang Zhi also lacked the opportunity.

Her daughter was always under the watchful eyes of her mother-in-law, and with such a sum of money, things could easily become unclear. Chi Yong was already none too pleasing in the old lady's eyes, so Yang Zhi truly dared not stir up even the slightest ripple.

For Yang Zhi, the money was even hotter to handle. She was a simple, honest country woman who had never managed a household or handled significant sums of money before; suddenly possessing such an amount would be incredibly unsettling.

Otherwise, when her daughter suggested going up the mountain, Yang Zhi wouldn't have agreed without a second thought, bringing her daughter along—both intending to discuss the matter of the money up there. Regrettably, things did not go as planned; it wasn't just the mother and daughter making the trip, but Chi Wu tagging along.

Chi Wu carried a frame, stacking the firewood he picked up along the path by the roadside. He planned to load it into his frame and carry it back down the mountain later.

A calculating child, Cheng Ying didn't slack off either, following her mother's lead. She picked up firewood alongside Chi Wu.

Both were children raised in hardship; even though the old lady spoiled her granddaughter, Cheng Ying still had to work. In this part of the countryside, a child’s good health, capable of handling any chore, was the real capital for securing a good marriage.

Just for her granddaughter’s future prospects, the old lady had never eased up on Cheng Ying's labor. Even though Cheng Ying was only ten, for the old lady, girls of seventeen or eighteen who hadn't found a match were numerous, and those still unmarried at that age would generally become the subject of gossip in the village.

Even with the bold national policy posters promoting late marriage and late childbirth hanging outside, villagers still placed importance on betrothal arrangements, didn't they? They had even heard rumors of children being betrothed while still infants in this very village—nothing unusual.

Thus, Cheng Ying possessed a pair of working hands. However, recently, probably due to gathering wool and watering vegetables in her space, and washing her hands, Cheng Ying's hands had become noticeably softer and smoother.

Although she dared not drink the water from her space or use it for bathing, washing her hands, Cheng Ying felt safe doing that. Once they reached the mountain, Yang Zhi seemed much more spirited than when she was at home.

In Cheng Ying’s view, apart from pine and cypress trees, there were dry, withered pear trees, and higher up, only barren brushwood. The rest was a stretch of dead, silent forest.

What else could be expected, since it was winter? But it wasn't silent for Yang Zhi.

Yang Zhi’s eyes meticulously scanned the bare mountain, and Cheng Ying watched her own mother follow a withered branch to find medicinal herbs. Of course, she only collected the usable roots and rhizomes.

"Mom, who did you learn that from?" Yang Zhi replied, "Your maternal grandfather was a country doctor. I followed Mom [referring to her own mother, Cheng Ying's maternal grandmother] up the mountain to gather herbs since I was little." Cheng Ying felt a surge of excitement in her heart—her family could be considered traditional Chinese medicine practitioners!

"Mom, my grandfather must have been an capable man." Yang Zhi pursed her lips. Her own father truly wasn't what one would call highly capable; he was a traveling doctor who had even been denounced during the struggle sessions a few years back.

How could she explain that to her daughter? "Your maternal grandfather...

he was very good to Mom." This statement barely managed to contain Cheng Ying's rising excitement. "Mom, did you learn all of Grandpa's skills?" Yang Zhi said, "Mom only recognizes a few medicinal herbs.

For colds and fevers, I only know two main prescriptions; they are all folk remedies. Your grandfather wasn't a master, either, otherwise, why would he have been denounced during the 'Smash the Four Olds' campaign?" Cheng Ying carried the medicinal herbs for her mother, thinking that anyone who had been subjected to denouncement must indeed be capable.

Having this hidden heritage made her feel a bit giddy. Yang Zhi turned around and saw her daughter's eyes shining brightly, looking quite awkward.

"Yingzi, your grandfather really wasn't that skilled, and Mom couldn't really learn much. You shouldn't learn it either." Wealth should not be displayed openly.

Cheng Ying understood that—she'd never heard of a craft being deliberately concealed. She was truly conflicted.

Her own mother looked genuinely unwilling to show off. "Mom, tell me." Yang Zhi turned back.

Chi Wu was a bit further away, gathering pinecones. "Yingzi, don't tell anyone outside.

Your grandfather was just a traveling doctor, a peddler of salves. Well, only our family knows—your grandfather specialized in treating hemorrhoids." First impression: not a traveling charlatan selling miracle elixirs.

Second impression: her own grandfather specialized in proctology. Third impression: what an elegant profession, specializing in appreciating...

posteriors. Oops.

Her thoughts had wandered a bit. Cheng Ying quickly reined in her galloping mind.

This wasn't bad either. In modern times, you could find two small advertisements anywhere specializing in curing hemorrhoids, using ancestral secret formulas.

The subject sounded unpleasant, but "nine out of ten people have hemorrhoids"—it was truly a trade that brought in money. Why was her own mother so shy about it?

"Mom, that's still a skill! Ask Grandpa to teach me later, okay?" Yang Zhi said firmly, "No, you cannot learn that." Cheng Ying and Yang Zhi were truly from different eras; she completely failed to grasp her mother's reservations.

"Mom, if we had some skills, our lives could be a little better." If you’re unwilling to learn, I can learn it, can't I? Perhaps I could even become an unlicensed private doctor.

Yang Zhi pursed her lips. "This capability, women shouldn't learn it." Cheng Ying nearly collapsed.

Did this have anything to do with gender? Cheng Ying's face flushed deep red.

Could it be that her own mother had perceived something? Although she considered herself somewhat liberal, if she were to truly pursue that field, she certainly had professional ethics.

She would definitely obtain a medical license before practicing. Cheng Ying cautiously asked her mother, "Is it passed down to sons but not daughters?" That was the only explanation she could think of.

Yang Zhi looked conflicted. When had her girl become so inquisitive?

If she had known, she shouldn't have chattered on to her. "Your grandfather only had me, his only daughter, so who could he pass it to?

Mom already knew the skill back then. Your grandfather had said, if he had grandsons, he would pass it to them—it would keep the ancestor's skill from being lost.

Even though times have been hard, your grandfather never let Mom use it." Cheng Ying felt regretful. A profession specializing in appraising backends—it had potential for wealth and fame.

She genuinely couldn't understand why it had to die out with her. Yang Zhi looked at her daughter's expression.

"What will people say if a girl spends all day staring at people's behinds? How will she ever get married without becoming the subject of gossip?" Cheng Ying looked at her mother and finally understood.

Who caused this trouble? It was too feudalistic.

This skill could be known, but not used—what kind of situation was this? So that was the reason.

Cheng Ying felt unfairly treated. Society was changing; in just a few more years, the profession of a doctor would be highly sought after.

She said to her mother, "Isn't it Chinese medicine? Do you still need to look at someone's rear end for that?

This is still a branch of TCM, isn't it?" Yang Zhi searched for vines while speaking to her daughter. "That won't do either.

For a young lady, talking about one's backside, whether said nicely or not, is inappropriate. No one in the village knows I know this.

Furthermore, your grandfather said that for severe cases, you even have to examine people visually. How can a woman do that?" Cheng Ying thought that discussing healing the sick wouldn't work if she emphasized that point.

She dropped it then. Since her mother said she could teach her, but she couldn't use it, in a few years, as times developed, her mother probably wouldn't have so many reservations.

However, Cheng Ying felt reassured about her future life; at least she and her mother were both skilled practitioners. They possessed a special trade.

And it was a technique that Cheng Ying felt had great potential for development. "Mom, Grandpa..." She stopped herself halfway through the question.

She truly didn't know much about her grandfather's affairs. If she let something slip, it wouldn't be good.

Yang Zhi sighed. "Yingzi misses Grandpa, doesn't she?

When the New Year comes, Mom will take you to see Grandpa. Because of your uncle's situation, your grandmother angered your Grandpa, so it's inconvenient for him to visit our home right now." Cheng Ying was a little confused.

Grandma resented Grandpa because of her stepfather? What was the connection?

Seeing her daughter's eyes, Yang Zhi pursed her lips. "Well, Mom can't explain it clearly to you.

Just don't mention your Grandpa in front of your Grandma for a while, or she'll get angry." Cheng Ying replied, "Okay, I won't say anything." Then she turned to practical matters. Her own mother had prescribed her herbal medicine for several days using her skill for treating hemorrhoids—was that truly safe?

Cheng Ying felt increasingly nauseated just thinking about it. Her mouth felt so strange.

Yang Zhi looked at her daughter. "Are you hungry?" Then she called out to Chi Wu, "Wuzi, come over and eat some dry rations." The mother and daughter found a flat spot, each taking a frozen sweet potato and sitting down to gnaw on it as they were.

Cheng Ying truly couldn't eat. "Mom, how could you prescribe medicine for a fever?" Yang Zhi was genuinely surprised that her daughter doubted her skills.

"It's just a few herbs, some for reducing inflammation, some for breaking a fever. I've used them for years.

The children in the village with minor ailments all get better eating that." Cheng Ying felt she had narrowly escaped death. It was that concerning.

She pursed her lips, looking at her mother with such a mournful expression. If she had known, she would have preferred to drink the soup and sweat it out—she never would have eaten the medicine her own mother boiled.

What a close call. Yang Zhi pointed to a dry vine in the distance.

"See that? That's honeysuckle vine.

It's anti-inflammatory. We don't stand on ceremony; even the flowers and vines can be used.

It’s good for soaking feet or hands. If we talk about efficiency, the flowers are best.

The medicinal effect of the flowers is more potent than the leaves or the vine. In the spring, I'll collect some and dry them.

If your throat hurts, soak some in water and drink two cups, and you’ll be fine." Then she added one more line, "It’s also good for soaking sore bottoms."