"Master has gone out to meet friends," Zhang Tong informed her.

Qi Yue murmured an acknowledgement.

"And Hu San went too?" she inquired.

"Hu San is at the leather shop south of the city; the items you mentioned, Madam Qi, are almost finished," Zhang Tong replied with a smile.

"That was fast," Qi Yue said with pleased surprise, immediately bringing up questions she'd accumulated while reading. "Asking you will be enough."

Zhang Tong, humbled and anxious, proceeded to explain each point to her. As they were speaking, a disciple rushed in from outside, shouting loudly.

"Senior Brother, a critical trauma case."

Liu Pucheng managed his disciples well; each knew their role. The junior brothers at the front hall could handle common ailments, but severe injuries still required Liu Pucheng's personal intervention—often at the family's specific request, as most who came did so solely because of Liu Pucheng's reputation.

With Liu Pucheng absent, the eldest disciple, Zhang Tong, held the highest authority.

Qi Yue followed Zhang Tong out, only to find the front hall waiting area already in chaos.

Several men and women clustered around a heavily built man in his forties, lying on a door-slab, weeping and shouting. The man had bled profusely onto the wood, and a large gash in his thick winter trousers revealed a mangled mess of flesh and blood.

"Gored by a wild boar..."

Seeing Zhang Tong approach, the others quickly made way.

"Doctor Liu..." one man lunged forward, grabbing Zhang Tong's arm, about to kowtow. "Please, save my older brother."

Zhang Tong supported him.

"Calm down, let me see. My master is out," he responded.

The group paused, then realizing from the surroundings that they were addressing a senior apprentice, they knew they had mistaken his identity.

"You. You aren't Doctor Liu?" they asked.

"My master is away," Zhang Tong answered.

A handyman brought basins of salted water and strong liquor, which Zhang Tong washed his hands in sequentially before examining the injured man's wound.

The concept of antisepsis had been adopted by Qianjin Hall, and Qi Yue, observing, nodded slightly. Yet, it wasn't enough. She frowned, wishing she had gloves.

Could gloves be fashioned?

While she was lost in thought, the crying and commotion escalated.

What a deep and terrible wound...

"Madam Qi... this needs suturing," Zhang Tong looked up and told Qi Yue.

Before Qi Yue could speak, the injured man's family turned to look, their expressions astonished. They had come specifically for Liu Pucheng; his absence already unnerved them, and now they saw this self-proclaimed apprentice examine the wound at length without treating it, instead looking up to ask a woman...

"I'll do it. You all watch closely," Qi Yue announced. Suturing wasn't something one could simply know; it required practice. Since Qianjin Hall specialized in treating sprains and trauma, she felt she best teach them.

As she spoke, she ordered more salted water and liquor to be prepared.

"I'll start with debridement first. A'Ru, hurry back and fetch my things," she instructed.

A'Ru acknowledged the command and ran out.

"Only the thread..." she paused, realizing something. "We ran out last time..."

"My master has some here," Zhang Tong quickly offered.

Qi Yue remembered seeing thread that Liu Pucheng had brought last time; though she didn't know what it was made of, it was certainly for stitching.

"Boil it in salt water," she directed.

Zhang Tong immediately went himself.

Meanwhile, Qi Yue rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands. Before she could approach the patient, she was stopped.

"You—what are you doing?" Two men blocked her way, eyeing her warily.

"I'm treating him," Qi Yue replied.

Her hands, accustomed to the routine of sterilization, instinctively held slightly in front of her, drawing even more curious scrutiny from the onlookers.

"When has a woman ever been a doctor?"

"Only a midwife, perhaps..."

"Look how peculiar this woman is..."

The family members muttered among themselves, their gazes toward Qi Yue growing more guarded.

"Oh, don't worry, I am a physician too," Qi Yue quickly explained, realizing they mistrusted this unfamiliar face. It was understandable; even in modern hospitals, many patients explicitly demanded treatment from a specific doctor.

"If you don't believe me, ask them," Qi Yue pointed toward the hall staff.

The clerks and disciples of Qianjin Hall immediately began nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, this is Madam Qi..."

"...a very capable Madam Qi..."

The family’s expressions remained skeptical.

"Madam Qi... she can perform abdominal surgery..." one disciple squeezed forward and shouted excitedly.

This statement, meant to instill confidence, instead startled the family.

"Sister-in-law, I think everyone here has gone mad," one man whispered to the woman sitting next to the patient.

The woman nodded, wiping her tears, and glanced at Qi Yue.

"How can such a young lady be a doctor? It's completely unreliable," she muttered, then called out to the others, "Since Doctor Liu isn't here anyway, let's go to another place..."

Following her words, the family immediately lifted the injured man and began moving toward the exit.

"Hey, hey, I really can cure him," Qi Yue was momentarily stunned, chasing after them to persuade them. "Don't judge the person, judge the skill! Just give it a try!"

"Pah," a younger woman turned back, her eyes red, and spat. "Give it a try? This is a life, not a trifle! 'Give it a try,' you say so lightly..."

Qi Yue quickly apologized, but the group quickened their pace and hurried out.

Qi Yue sighed, her face etched with disappointment.

"I'm here, I'm here! It's boiled!" Zhang Tong ran out, clutching a box of thread still emitting steam, shouting excitedly.

Before he finished speaking, he froze, staring at the empty waiting area.

"Where did they go?" he asked.

"They... they refused Madam Qi's treatment..." one disciple mumbled sheepishly.

Zhang Tong was instantly furious.

"This... this is truly..." he stammered, at a loss for words.

Qi Yue turned around, spreading her hands.

"It's alright. Whether they accept it or not, the patient must choose. Whoever treats him, as long as he gets better, that's what matters," she said with a smile, then looked at the disciples inside the hall. A thought flashed through her mind: "I... I will teach you the technique of suturing!"

These people frequently interacted with patients; they were familiar faces to those seeking treatment. An extra layer of trust and an additional chance could reduce suffering for the injured.

Hearing Qi Yue say this, everyone in the hall froze, even the laborers fetching herbs. The vast space of Qianjin Hall fell utterly silent.

"What is it?" Qi Yue was startled and looked at them, confused.

"Madam Qi, you mean you will teach us suturing?" one disciple dared to ask.

"Yes, what's wrong?" she asked, then smiled. "Don't be afraid. It’s actually quite simple; it just requires practice. It's much easier than learning traditional Chinese medicine..."

As her words registered, everyone became certain they hadn't misheard, and the hall erupted in a joyous clamor.

"Thank you, Madam Qi..."

"No, we must call you Master..."

Hu San entered Qianjin Hall carrying a box just as he heard everyone hailing someone as "Master," and then he saw the woman standing where everyone was bowing in deference.

"Stop calling her that!" Hu San jumped in shock, rushed over in a few strides, and thrust his hand in front of Qi Yue, glaring like a protective cub hoarding food. "She is my Master! Don't shout that haphazardly!"

Qi Yue laughed heartily, feeling a warmth spread through her chest.

"You all prepare some leather," Qi Yue instructed the group, listing the materials needed. "And everyone needs to prepare some needles... Needles... Hu San..."

Hu San, sulking with a slightly puffed-out belly, snapped to attention when his name was called. He stood up, his face still stern.

"Take these needles of mine." Qi Yue retrieved several specialized surgical needles from the medical kit A'Ru had brought. "Find a place, have them forged, and then prepare a set for each person."

These implements... Hu San felt a nervous, intense rush that stole his breath. He reached out with a trembling hand to accept them.

"Master..." he murmured, unable to speak further.

"Oh, here is the money," Qi Yue added, taking the money pouch from A'Ru and pressing it into Hu San's hand.

"Master, Master, I dare not..."

"Master, we will pay for it ourselves..."

The disciples cried out in a jumble, some pulling money from their own persons and offering it forward.

"Keep your money for your families," Qi Yue laughed. "Besides, this isn't my money; if I don't spend it, what's the point?"

She lowered her voice on that last sentence so only A'Ru heard. A'Ru blinked briefly, realizing this must be why Qi Yue always seemed so carefree and detached; perhaps everything related to the Marquis's residence truly meant nothing to her.

"Master." Some of the younger disciples were choked up. "The skills you teach us—those are what feed us for a lifetime."

After Qi Yue left, the disciples of Qianjin Hall immediately surrounded Hu San.

"Back! Everyone back! Stay far away!" Hu San fiercely clutched the needles to his chest, unconcerned about being pricked, holding up a hand to stop the crowd. "If these are damaged, you can't afford to compensate me with your lives..."

They reluctantly backed away a little.

"Hu San, we just want to look..." someone said with a smile.

"No looking either," Hu San declared, drawing out his words and glaring. He quickly tucked the sutures inside his robes, then paused, looking over the group. "I have one thing to say first..."

Everyone watched him with a degree of excitement, wondering what important announcement the boy had.

"Even though you all call her Master, I am the Eldest Senior Brother, and you must all call me Senior Brother," Hu San announced loudly, straightening up.

The crowd froze for a moment. The boy cared about this status...

"Do I have to call you Senior Brother too?" Zhang Tong huffed, hands behind his back, watching him.

Hu San immediately grinned at him.

"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare! You are my Senior Brother..." he laughed.

"What about me?"

"Hu San, you dare ask me to call you Senior Brother..."

"Exactly, what right do you have..."

"Re-rank! Re-rank..."

Laughter and playful chaos broke out in Qianjin Hall, but the normally order-obsessed Eldest Senior Brother, Zhang Tong, did not stop his junior brothers; instead, he watched from the side with a slight smile.

When Chang Yancheng stepped inside, he noticed the lamps were lit, casting a woman's silhouette onto the lattice windows. However, he no longer assumed this woman was staying up waiting for her husband.

"Your Highness."

The maids all curtsied in unison. As the curtain was lifted, Qiu Xiang followed, taking his cloak. The room was immediately filled with warmth, but otherwise, it was unchanged from before—there was none of the cloying fragrance typically found where a woman resided.

Chang Yancheng walked directly into his bedchamber.

"You're back," Qi Yue's voice sounded from behind him.

Chang Yancheng paused, said nothing, waved Qiu Xiang away, and closed the bedchamber door.