More chapters will follow as I write them; if I can't write, there will be no updates, haha! While everyone still enjoys reading, I’ll write as much as I can! If interest wanes, I'll slow down!

Qi Yue was trembling, unable to speak.

How could she deserve this? How fortunate she was!

Qi Yue looked at Liu Pucheng, saying nothing, then bowed deeply.

“Teacher, thank you,” she said.

The address "Teacher" caught Liu Pucheng slightly off guard, but he said nothing. He perceived the complexity in Qi Yue’s expression and merely offered a gentle smile, dropping the topic.

He was a healer, and this woman before him, in his eyes, was also a healer. Healers abide by their own strict codes, and he understood the complicated feelings that arose when those rules were broken.

Liu Pucheng turned his gaze to A’ru, Hu San, and Zhang Tong.

“Did you all remember?” he asked.

“We remembered,” the three answered in unison.

“Good. Go do what needs to be done.” Liu Pucheng nodded at them, smiling.

The three acknowledged him and dispersed to their tasks.

“Master, this…” Zhang Tong murmured, holding up the severed spleen in the basin, seeking instruction.

Liu Pucheng glanced at it.

“Put it aside for now; we’ll take it all together,” he said softly.

Zhang Tong nodded.

Qi Yue stood watch for the latter half of the night. She left the room but had no sleepiness. The whole day—rushing about and performing surgery—left her mind buzzing even now. She wandered to the stone bench in the courtyard and sat down.

A soft cough came from nearby.

Qi Yue turned to look and saw Chang Yuncheng stepping out of a doorway.

“Why are you out here?” Qi Yue asked, slightly surprised.

“This is my home. Where else would I be?” Chang Yuncheng replied flatly.

Qi Yue laughed.

“You really have a way with words that doesn’t endear you to people,” she shook her head, then smiled again. “Or perhaps, you simply don't want to speak kindly to me.”

Chang Yuncheng remained silent, seemingly conceding the point.

A stretch of quiet settled between them.

“Aren't you resting?” They spoke at the same time, then paused, surprised.

Qi Yue laughed first.

“I’m not resting. I can’t sleep anyway, and I have to get up soon,” she said.

Chang Yuncheng frowned slightly.

“Didn’t the procedure go smoothly?” he asked.

Qi Yue shook her head and sighed, gazing up at the night sky.

“The journey of ten thousand li has only just begun,” she murmured. “The surgery itself was the smaller matter; the post-operative care is the real challenge.”

Chang Yuncheng didn't understand this and didn't press further.

Silence returned.

“Um, thank you for today,” Qi Yue said, rubbing her hands together as she looked at him.

“Thank me for trying to kill you?” Chang Yuncheng pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Qi Yue burst into laughter.

“We’ll settle that score later. For now, go get some rest. I still need you to stand guard here,” she said, reaching out to pat Chang Yuncheng’s shoulder before standing up.

Though she suggested rest, most people in the Dingxi Marquis’s manor were sleepless at this hour.

Mama Su helped Madam Xie up from the prayer cushion.

“Has Shumin rested?” she inquired.

“Yes, Madam Huang drank the calming soup and only settled down after much persuasion. She simply couldn’t stay awake any longer,” Mama Su replied, assisting Madam Xie to sit down and bringing over a bowl of soup broth.

Madam Xie took it and slowly began to eat.

“Shumin’s fate is also…” she started, but ultimately sighed.

Mama Su felt a strange sensation, suddenly unsure how to respond.

By usual custom, she should have offered an encouraging phrase—that she would surely recover, that the Prefect’s wife was blessed with a long life…

But now, the very person who could change the Prefect’s wife's bad fate into a good one was the one they despised utterly… If they called the Prefect’s wife fortunate now, it would implicitly praise the young mistress…

Madam Xie was clearly conflicted; her hand tightened involuntarily around the spoon.

How could it be that (that wretched maid)…?

This left her unsure how to even offer prayers before the Buddha. Madam Xie adored children and knew the agony of losing one; she empathized deeply with the Prefect’s wife’s current feelings. But if that woman truly cured her…

“Has the Heir been with that woman the whole time?” Madam Xie asked.

“Yes,” Mama Su replied quietly.

Madam Xie’s hand, holding the spoon, remained motionless for a long moment.

“Go tell Cheng-ge’er, tell him I sent you, to go rest,” she said slowly after a pause in her silence. “Our body, hair, and skin are gifts from our parents. If he wears himself out, his mother in the grave will not rest easy.”

Mama Su responded with a soft “Yes” and retreated quietly.

The lamplight in the room flickered, illuminating Madam Xie sitting bolt upright.

When Mama Su reached the courtyard in question, she was immediately stopped by the guards posted outside.

“It’s me,” Mama Su said quickly.

But the guards showed no inclination to let her pass.

“I was sent by the Heir’s wife,” Mama Su finally stated. If it were any other household staff stopping her, she certainly wouldn't have been so amiable. But these were the Heir’s men; if others showed him no respect, she absolutely could not afford to do so.

The guards hesitated for a moment, sent a runner in, and then the path was cleared. Mama Su saw, in the courtyard brightly lit by a large lantern, a man and a woman standing side-by-side. The woman was still smiling, and the Heir’s gaze was fixed entirely upon her face…

Upon hearing Mama Su’s words, Chang Yuncheng’s expression stiffened. The relaxation in his features slowly tightened, and a flash of sorrow crossed his eyes.

“It’s getting late. You should go rest now, and I should go inside and check on things,” Qi Yue said with a smile.

Chang Yuncheng turned and walked away, not sparing her a single glance, seemingly having completely forgotten her existence.

That child is having an episode again…

Qi Yue shook her head, unconcerned, and also turned toward the interior room.

Mama Su finally turned to leave. As she reached the doorway, she saw Chang Yuncheng stop abruptly ahead of her. Her heart lurched, and she stared intently at his retreating figure.

It seemed a long time, yet perhaps only a blink, before Chang Yuncheng started walking again. He soon disappeared into the distance.

Mama Su let out a breath, but her heart sank heavily.

Madam Xie heard Mama Su’s report but said nothing, merely waving her hand.

“It’s late. You should go get some sleep yourself; there will be much to do tomorrow.”

Mama Su arranged the curtains for Madam Xie, blew out the outer lamp, and withdrew.

After an unknown amount of time, the curtain was lifted. Madam Xie, dressed only in her underclothes, slowly walked to the prayer cushion and knelt down.

“Good is rewarded with good, and evil with evil. That wretched maid should not be so fortunate. Bodhisattva, please grant that she… cannot be saved…”

Qi Yue, Liu Pucheng, and the others had not slept all night. A’ru and Hu San were monitoring the blood pressure and pulse, while Zhang Tong brewed the medicinal decoctions. Everyone waited for the moment the patient would awaken.

Seeing A’ru stand up and approach the patient, Hu San quickly followed.

“Sister A’ru, has the quarter hour passed?” he whispered.

Qi Yue had required monitoring of the blood pressure and pulse every fifteen minutes—one ke.

A’ru nodded and carefully examined the sphygmomanometer.

Hu San busied himself checking the pulse.

“It’s fine,” he said, watching A’ru pick up a brush to write on a piece of paper. “Sister A’ru, teach me how to read this. I’ll watch it while you get a short rest…”

“What’s wrong with staying up for a day?” A’ru murmured, her head bowed as she wrote.

Hu San felt snubbed and somewhat awkward.

Meanwhile, Qi Yue and Liu Pucheng were speaking quietly in the outer room.

“The source of Qi and Blood generation—is it truly harmless to remove it?” Liu Pucheng asked softly.

“It’s not entirely harmless,” Qi Yue conceded. “But it won’t cause death. It will only lower the immune system. However, compared to the alternative of certain death if not removed, removal is the necessary path. It’s not just the spleen; many organs within the human body can be removed, transplanted, or repaired…”

Liu Pucheng’s expression shifted from shock to outright astonishment, mixed with excitement.

“Opening the chest to explore the heart, exchanging one for another…” he mumbled. “So the tales of divine physicians recorded in ancient texts are true—they were truly feasible…”

He trembled uncontrollably and looked at Qi Yue.

“Miss Qi, all of this… you know how to do all of this…” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I know how, yes, but…” Qi Yue felt at a loss for words.

Liu Pucheng already understood what she was about to say and interrupted her.

“Miss Qi, where did you come from…” he couldn't help but ask.

“I cannot tell you where I learned it, only that I have performed such procedures before—more than once,” Qi Yue sighed, knowing his question but unable to answer.

“And the results?” Liu Pucheng pressed eagerly.

“No problems at all,” Qi Yue replied with a wry smile.

Liu Pucheng was confused by her expression. ‘No problem’ meant everything was fine, right? Shouldn't she be happy?

“Back then, we had everything we needed. It’s nothing like now, where we lack for everything,” Qi Yue sighed. “I truly don’t know if we can pass this stage of post-operative infection and complications.”

Though he didn't understand many of the terms Qi Yue used, Liu Pucheng grasped her underlying meaning. From their first meeting, he had clearly sensed this young woman’s reliance on, and anxiety over, medicine. But it was understandable; the medicines she spoke of were miraculous, almost beyond the human realm…

“We will watch closely together for anything that needs attention. Whatever ailment arises, we will treat it. Don’t worry. Even the best medicine is man-made, so ultimately, humans are still superior,” he said with a smile.

Qi Yue appreciated his comfort and nodded with a smile, though the worry in her brow remained.

As dawn broke, the anxious Prefect and his wife returned to visit, accompanied by the Dingxi Marquis and his wife this time.

Qi Yue could no longer refuse family visitation; they had waited long enough already. She had A’ru lead them through the sterilization process before allowing them entry, though all others remained barred.

To prevent the Prefect’s couple from becoming more anxious by misunderstanding Qi Yue’s technical language, Liu Pucheng briefed them on the patient’s condition and the surgery. Meanwhile, Qi Yue was detained by the incessantly curious Dingxi Marquis.

“Yue-niang, you can truly slice a person open in the belly and they don’t die?” he asked.

Qi Yue smiled.

“Father, one doesn’t just cut open a belly arbitrarily,” she laughed. “We cut it open to treat illness and save a life, not to take one.”

“But how can they not die? Cutting open the belly! Some people die from a simple cut. The belly! Such a large…” the Dingxi Marquis exclaimed, bewildered.

“Father, it wasn’t that large—only this much,” Qi Yue smiled, showing him a length with her fingers. “Besides, this isn't rare. Many physicians in the past have done it.”

“Is that so? I doubt it. Only the divine physician Bian Que could do such things; ordinary doctors couldn’t manage it,” the Dingxi Marquis shook his head. “Yue-niang, you aren't a disciple of the Bian Que lineage, are you?”

Qi Yue laughed heartily.

“Indeed, Miss Yue learned such skills from whom?” Madam Xie asked coolly from the side.

Qi Yue glanced at her.

“I don't know. My grandmother never told me,” she answered simply and directly.

The Dingxi Marquis was uninterested in this; the fact that his new daughter-in-law possessed such skills was shocking enough for him.

“Even the Imperial Physicians in the capital wouldn't know this kind of skill,” he murmured, feeling a rush of heat throughout his body.

“That’s not necessarily true. The world is vast, and there are many masters. Many doctors might know how but simply choose not to employ it readily,” Qi Yue sighed.

For example, suturing techniques—Liu Pucheng’s teacher knew them. Suturing techniques naturally arose in connection with the need for incision, meaning there might be moments requiring cutting. But perhaps, like Liu Pucheng’s teacher, they encountered too many failures and were forced to abandon the practice.

She wondered what the outcome would be this time.