An extra update—the end of the month is here, requesting subscriptions, not votes… Qi Yue received the news just as she was rising and tidying up in her room. In truth, she had finished dressing, but deliberately feigned lingering in her quarters to avoid crossing paths with Chang Yunchang during mealtimes.
The message arrived via Hu San. Through a mix of cajoling and outright deceit, coupled with the entire household being aware that the Young Mistress was a divine physician, Hu San dared not tamper with the delivery when he heard it concerned a doctor. He swiftly conveyed the message inside.
When A'Ru heard that Liu Pucheng had been beaten, she nearly lost her senses and rushed in to inform Qi Yue.
Qi Yue froze on the spot.
“...Young Mistress, don't worry too much. Hu San tends to exaggerate; perhaps it’s not that serious…” A’Ru, seeing Qi Yue’s expression, tried to backtrack, fearing she had frightened her. Before she could finish, she watched Qi Yue bolt out of the room.
Chang Yunchang emerged from the dining hall and saw the receding figure of that woman vanishing in a streak.
This woman... there were times she behaved so unlike a woman...
Such swift legs, too...
A slight upturn touched the corner of his mouth, but it immediately fell, his gaze forcibly averted.
“Quezhi, fetch clothes, bring the heavy cloak...” A’Ru, clutching the medical kit, rushed out in a flurry, shouting loudly as she went.
Quezhi and the other maids, having first watched the Young Mistress sprint out as if her hair were on fire, and then seeing A’Ru follow in panicked haste, also grew alarmed.
“A’Hao, A’Hao, bring me money—whatever we have, bring it all!” A’Ru took the cloak Quezhi was frantically warming and shouted again.
A’Hao dashed into the room, rummaged wildly, and produced a money pouch.
Chang Yunchang’s expression tightened slightly.
What had happened? He couldn't help but take a few steps forward.
“What is it?” Seeing A’Ru about to flee through the door, he finally called out loudly.
“Doctor Liu is in trouble,” A’Ru stopped, turned, and said, looking at Chang Yunchang. Her lips parted, but thinking of Qi Yue, she swallowed the words she was about to utter: My Lord, please accompany the Young Mistress.
That woman appeared indifferent, yet possessed a stubborn, unyielding spirit.
This soul was all she had to offer. Let her have her way. He shouldn’t impose unnecessary constraints on her; that wouldn't be kindness. True kindness was letting her follow her own path.
A’Ru turned and ran out.
Chang Yunchang understood A’Ru’s meaning perfectly.
Even her maid was drawing a line between them now?
She wouldn't bother with him anymore, would she...
Chang Yunchang clenched his fist tightly, as if grasping his own throat, unable to breathe...
“Isn't this the Marquis’s estate? Aren't everything we eat and use the finest? Isn’t your horse a steed that can cover a thousand li? How can it be running slower than a person walking?” Qi Yue said from inside the carriage.
A man can be killed but not insulted! The coachman cracked his whip, unleashing his full equestrian skill.
The horse shot out of the Dingxi Marquis’s gate as if the reins had snapped, frightening the gatekeepers into thinking the animal had bolted.
Hu San saw the unbridled horse pulling the swaying carriage and instantly knew it was Qi Yue. He stood up and waved.
The coachman’s skill was fully displayed today; he brought the carriage to an immediate stop.
“Who did it?” Qi Yue asked bluntly.
“Patients seeking treatment, hunters. Seven or eight men,” Hu San replied succinctly, hitting the crucial points.
A medical dispute?
The skinny, weak disciples at the apothecary probably weren't enough for them to even warm up on.
“Gatekeeper, I’m going out. Call me seventeen or eighteen guards,” Qi Yue commanded.
The gatekeeper paused, momentarily stunned. Of course, the master’s family going out required guards, but the Young Mistress had never done so before...
They quickly complied and started shouting for men.
“Bring weapons,” Qi Yue added.
The gatekeepers nearly stumbled. In past idle chats, they had spoken of how such-and-such young master in another household was notoriously overbearing, always calling for guards with weapons to start a brawl. But that was ancient history. Most of the dukes and marquises founded during the current dynasty had won their titles on the battlefield alongside the High Ancestor Emperor. Their fathers had attained wealth and status, but couldn't shake off old habits. Their sons, raised among grassroots soldiers, often lacked sharp tongues when trouble arose, preferring to settle things with fists and force.
At that time, officials in the capital were reportedly exasperated by these noble scions fighting. However, as the older generation passed and the new generation was steeped in courtly etiquette, coupled with censors keenly looking for faults among these grand houses, the practice of summoning companions for fights had virtually vanished. In the case of the Dingxi Marquis’s estate, it had never been seen at all.
Their current Marquis was a refined man nurtured in sweetened water, devoted only to elegance; speaking of fighting seemed a vulgar insult to refinement. The Heir, though rough-tempered, was a solitary hero who relied only on himself and disdained gathering allies. The other young masters, naturally, were educated to emulate the Marquis. Thus, the gatekeepers and guards of Dingxi Marquis’s estate could only pass the time by recounting the misdeeds of other families’ ancestors.
They never imagined living long enough to hear such a command, let alone participate in such an affair...
Even more unbelievably, the words came from the Young Mistress of their own household.
The gatekeepers rushed out, tears welling up, to relay this glorious news...
Qianjin Hall was already chaos.
The inside was blockaded; seven or eight burly men alongside four or five women had sealed off the hall. None of the disciples or clerks who had been shouting about reporting them to the authorities could get out. If Hu San hadn't been intimately familiar with such siege situations due to his family background and slipped out immediately, Qi Yue wouldn't have known so quickly.
The area outside was also packed, the entire street jammed tight like an audience watching a grand opera.
“...This Qianjin Hall killed someone...”
“...A perfectly healthy person was kept here overnight, and now they’re gone...”
“...They claim it was treatment, but who knows what they did inside? They wouldn't even let the family see him...”
“...They cut off a good portion of his flesh...”
In the crowd, Wu Shan was providing commentary. Sickness meant hardship, and such hardship led to this treatment—the public sympathized deeply. Everyone consumes grains and eats meat; no one is guaranteed never to fall ill. Thus, people love doctors profoundly, and they hate them just as deeply.
“Doctors like this quack deserve to be beaten...”
“...If they aren't taught a lesson, they’ll keep harming people...”
“A black-hearted doctor who only cares for money deserves to be beaten to death...”
However, quite a few voices in the crowd expressed doubt.
“Doctor Liu isn't like that...”
“Right, Doctor Liu is a good doctor...”
“Doctor Liu is a divine physician. I heard the Prefect’s son was ill recently. No one else could cure him, but Doctor Liu did...”
“Yes, yes, I heard that too. A relative of mine works at another apothecary; he heard the doctor there say it himself...”
The situation was suddenly shifting, and Wu Shan grew anxious.
“What do you people know? Even if Doctor Liu cured the Prefect’s son, do you know how he cured him?”
This sparked even greater interest, and everyone clamored to inquire.
“He had to slice open his abdomen,” Wu Shan declared.
The crowd gasped. This challenged their understanding. A small cut could cause agonizing pain; wouldn't slicing open the belly guarantee death?
“You don’t understand; this isn't impossible,” Wu Shan said with an air of mystery.
“So, Doctor Liu really can perform abdominal surgery?” The crowd was now even more astonished, bombarding him with questions.
Seeing their sudden looks of surprise and reverence, Wu Shan inwardly sneered.
I’m not here to boost Qianjin Hall’s reputation!
“Abdominal surgery—can that be done casually?” he huffed. “That requires practice.”
The crowd grew even more curious.
“How... how does one practice that?”
Wu Shan gave a cold laugh.
“To practice cutting open a belly, naturally, you practice on living people...” he stated.
The crowd erupted in shock.
“Th-then the injured person wasn't simply cut up by Qianjin Hall and locked away?” someone loudly inquired.
Wu Shan almost applauded the wisdom of that question.
As this new piece of information spread, the onlookers outside decisively sided against the hall.
“Beat him! Beat this quack doctor!”
Listening to the commotion outside, the disciples inside Qianjin Hall felt their hearts grow cold.
While it wasn't uncommon for apothecaries or doctors to be harassed by people seeking treatment, Qianjin Hall had enjoyed smooth sailing since its opening, thanks to Liu Pucheng's skill and character, building a good name among the townsfolk. They hadn't expected this day would ever come.
As the saying goes, one who often stands by the riverbank will eventually get his shoes wet. They weren't immortals; no doctor could guarantee a cure for every illness. Dealing with unreasonable family members of patients was unavoidable—they simply had to accept their fate.
Which doctor or apothecary hadn't been beaten, cursed, or had their place smashed? This was normal.
The disciples covered their heads, waiting for the moment to arrive.
“Make way!”
The sound of hurried hooves and a loud, steady shout rang out from the entrance.
The crowd surrounding Qianjin Hall fell into immediate confusion. When they clearly saw the insignia of the Marquis’s estate displayed on the approaching party, the chaos intensified.
However, the road quickly cleared.
Seeing the group arrive, Wu Shan’s heart sank. He had heard that the treatment of the Prefect’s son took place at the Dingxi Marquis’s estate, and that the Young Mistress of the estate had played a significant role.
A quack doctor was due to be condemned. Moreover, Qianjin Hall couldn't escape blame this time. Even if the Dingxi Marquis’s estate intervened, it wouldn't change the public’s perception. Regardless of whether the verdict was suppressed or passed, the populace had already decided Qianjin Hall housed a quack—and that was enough.
Wu Shan snorted and retreated to the side with the crowd, watching coldly.
But Liu Pucheng was something else; to actually manage to forge a connection with the Young Mistress of the Dingxi Marquis’s estate...
He thought this as he saw over a dozen guards armed with clubs halt, followed by a carriage pulled by a horse that seemed startled. From it jumped down a young woman, immediately followed by another young woman...
Then, the first young woman, appearing frail and unsteady, stumbled a step after dismounting, eliciting a burst of low laughter from the onlookers.
“Young Mistress,” A’Ru supported Qi Yue, looking at her with concern.
That carriage ride was nearly fatal... Qi Yue suppressed the churning inside her, steadied her gaze, and rushed directly toward the entrance of Qianjin Hall.
Four men blocked the four doors, loudly hurling curses inward.
“...It wouldn't be unjust to beat this quack doctor to death...”
“...One less black-hearted quack doctor is a blessing...”
Hearing those words, Qi Yue felt a burning sensation in her nose and throat. She glanced around quickly, snatched a club from the nearest guard’s hand.
The short, stout man, growing increasingly dissatisfied with his own curses, simply rolled up his sleeves, preparing to give these quacks a proper lesson. Just as he raised his hand, he heard a rush of wind from behind, followed by a dull thud of impact on his shoulder.
The short, stout man cried out an ‘Ay!’ and turned around.
“Which bastard...” he cursed, but before he could see who struck him, another blow swung close to his face. Luckily, being a former hunter, he instinctively dodged backward. The club only struck his shoulder.
He tumbled inside, and the doorway was cleared.
The commotion here silenced the noisy chaos inside the hall; everyone turned to look.
They saw a beautiful woman stepping in, dressed in a fine, embroidered silk jacket and skirt, clutching a wooden club that hardly matched her attire.
Seeking medical help? Or... robbing the place?