"Honestly, I don't know much about this; it's not what I studied, so I don't usually have much exposure to it. If it weren't for one of my patients..." Qi Yue stopped herself, realizing she was about to say too much, "...I once encountered a patient who used it, and that’s when I started paying some attention."

As she spoke, she spread a sheet of paper across the table and began jotting down everything she required.

"If Madam Qi has experience with this before, that is excellent news," Liu Pucheng remarked with a degree of relief.

Qi Yue offered a wry smile.

"Before..." she paused her writing, "I used to engage with this precisely to prove it was ineffective."

It was quite laughable, really...

Liu Pucheng and the others were momentarily stunned.

"In any case, I believed it to be useless—it was simply... absurd. Yet, some people still use it... and it’s becoming increasingly favored," Qi Yue frowned. "To refute this, I tested it myself, and then..."

Increasingly favored? Why did Madam Qi's words suggest everyone knew about and used this medicine, yet they had never heard of it? Could it be circulating elsewhere?

It was strange, but now was hardly the time to dwell on it.

"And then what happened?" Liu Pucheng asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

"Then I succeeded," Qi Yue stated, managing a smile that looked decidedly strained.

"You succeeded? Does that mean the medicine is ineffective?" Zhang Tong couldn't help but interject.

Those who had just rekindled their hope were instantly confused again.

"Although I don't fully trust or endorse this medicine, I know it is being used, which means it has existing instances of successful efficacy," Qi Yue took a deep breath. "In any case, let's try it."

Everyone nodded. As long as there was proof of success, that was better than their worst assumptions.

"I don't know how to do anything else. Back then, I only prepared two things: Zihua Diding and Qianliguang." Qi Yue announced.

This was the second time she had mentioned Zihua Diding.

"Qianliguang we have, but we've never used Zihua Diding," Liu Pucheng replied.

Zihua Diding was harvested in autumn; finding it now in the dead of winter would be even harder.

"Then let's use Qianliguang," Qi Yue said, writing on the paper. "I need to boil the Qianliguang *** and isolate an effective concentrated solution. That means I'll need to dilute the medicinal liquid in test tubes, which in turn requires bacterial cultivation...."

She stopped writing, frowning.

"Nutrient broth culture medium... what do we do?" she murmured to herself for a moment, then picked up her pen again.

After writing a few more strokes, she stopped again.

"And high-pressure sterilization? Distilled water..." she continued her soliloquy, "No microscope..."

Liu Pucheng and the others couldn't grasp a word of what she was saying. Realizing they couldn't offer any practical help, they could only watch her anxiously and helplessly, witnessing the woman repeatedly run her hands through her neatly coiffed hair until it became a tangled mess.

Accompanied by Qi Yue's rapid writing and sketching, the disciples began searching the manor late into the night for all sorts of strange and unusual items.

"Slowly, slowly," disciples carrying two pots and steamers from the kitchen shouted slogans as they stepped out.

"Here is the finest pork belly and beef..." Another disciple took large chunks of meat from the cook.

"The basin and brush you requested..."

"This is white cloth..."

"...Is a wooden barrel of this size sufficient?"

"Are these plates enough?"

The clamor, along with the light from torches and lanterns, illuminated nearly half of the Dingxi Marquis Estate. Both those asleep and those awake watched the busy activity with curiosity.

At this moment, Qi Yue felt a measure of relief that she had stayed at the Dingxi Marquis Estate. She had originally been pulled in by Chang Yuncheng but had planned to leave. However, discussing this matter would inevitably lead to drawn-out arguments, and time was life—she couldn't afford to waste it. Now, it seemed fortuitous. Otherwise, sourcing these materials would likely have consumed much more time.

But...

After this incident passed, she resolved to prepare all these things herself—possessions that belonged to her.

"What is the Young Madam doing?"

"Are they setting up a new hearth in that courtyard?"

"What is it? I heard they are trying to create some kind of medicine..."

"Aren't medicines all boiled? Why would they need meat?"

"To make a starter, perhaps?"

All the necessary equipment was ready, and it was already past midnight, yet no one in the courtyard felt sleepy.

"Since time is critical, we will rest in shifts. We must refine a usable injection within three days, so the patient is entirely in your hands, Teacher," she said, accepting a fine ginseng root handed to her by A'ru. "This is the superior ginseng the Old Marquis Lady left me; use it for the patient if necessary."

Liu Pucheng reached out and took it. Zhang Tong and the others behind him widened their eyes.

Such ginseng was worth a fortune, wasn't it? Heavens, the lives of ten hunters couldn't equal the value of this single root.

"We are no longer doing this just for this one patient. This is for us, for the acceptance of this new therapy by more people, and to have a remedy available when this condition arises again. In that regard, even ten or a hundred such ginseng roots are incomparable," Qi Yue smiled.

Liu Pucheng nodded.

"Very well, the patient is my responsibility," he affirmed. "Madam Qi, we are relying entirely on you this time."

Qi Yue nodded, putting on her mask and gloves sequentially. She ushered Hu San and four or five other assisting disciples into the room specially cleared out to serve as their laboratory.

A'ru watched Qi Yue and the others enter, taking a deep breath.

"Doctor, I will go check the patient's temperature," she announced.

Liu Pucheng nodded.

"You go boil the salt-sugar water Madam Qi mentioned," he then instructed Zhang Tong.

Zhang Tong immediately complied. Everyone set to their respective tasks.

This challenge concerning life and death had officially begun.

By this moment, almost everyone in Yongqing Prefecture knew of this gamble, and chatter about the beggar Young Madam of the Marquis Estate flared up again.

"Truly... the Marquis of Dingxi is in big trouble this time..."

Most people began their conversations with this exact phrase, so much so that newcomers to Yongqing Prefecture mistook it for a common local greeting.

"The Marquis of Dingxi is in big trouble this time."

The moment she heard this news, behind the Prefectural Magistrate's office, the Prefectural Magistrate's wife said to her husband.

The Magistrate sighed.

"This Young Madam... she seemed quite sensible, how could she be so reckless?" he shook his head.

"What sense could she have?" the Magistrate's wife retorted. "Given her background..."

Then she recalled the behavior displayed when treating her own son. At the time, worried only for her son, she hadn't paid much mind. Now, looking back, she felt thoroughly insulted.

"Sister Xie must be furious by now; her life is truly bitter," she sighed.

The Magistrate frowned.

"Perhaps we should pay a visit to the Marquis Estate, just to express our..." he began to say quietly.

He was interrupted by his wife before he finished.

"Stop looking for trouble! Express what? Everyone is avoiding the Dingxi Marquis Estate right now; why would we rush toward them!" she said hastily.

The Magistrate found a subtle inconsistency in her words.

"After all, she saved Ziqiao..." he reasoned.

"We are grateful for saving a life, but that doesn't mean she won't cause harm again," the Magistrate's wife insisted. "A favor is a favor, but justice must still be served."

The Magistrate remained silent.

"I'm telling you, be careful. The Marquis of Dingxi is facing severe trouble this time. As the Prefect, you shouldn't act rashly. If the public unrest spills over to our doorstep, you won't be able to handle the consequences," the Magistrate's wife cautioned again.

The Magistrate felt that listening to his wife made him look weak, so he cleared his throat.

"What does a woman know? I have my own judgment," he stated solemnly.

The Magistrate's wife knew he had taken her words to heart, so she smiled, unconcerned with his minor pride.

"How is the Young Master? Keep an eye on him. Don't let him run around; now that he’s better, I’ve invited a renowned doctor from the capital to examine him," she called to a servant woman.

The woman quickly sent a young maid. Before long, the maid returned in a panicked rush.

"The Young Master has gone out," she replied.

"He can finally move around. The sky is about to darken—where did he go? Who is with him?" The Magistrate's wife was startled and demanded.

"He said he was bored at home and wanted a walk. He went with the young masters from the Chen, Zhou, and Sun families. He promised not to go far, just to the Yanxun Pavilion for snacks," the maid knelt and explained. "Several nannies are with him; they brought hand warmers, foot warmers, and heavy coats for everyone."

Only then did the Magistrate's wife relax.

"Yanxun Pavilion is a fine place, quiet. It's good for him to get out after being cooped up for so long," she conceded.

However, the location where Huang Ziqiao was presently was far from quiet.

The light was dim, and noise filled the air.

Deqing Manor was the largest gambling house in Yongqing Prefecture, featuring three tiers—high, middle, and low—to cater to the different strata of society.

But the atmosphere in the highest-tier gambling room was strangely tense.

"Bet! I told you all to place your bets here!" A youth sitting at a gambling table sharply struck a specific spot with his riding whip.

The spot was marked with the character 'Qi' (), yet only a handful of chips were scattered there sparsely.

The owner of the gambling house, Huang Siya, wiped sweat from his brow as he entered.

"My Young Master, what pleasure brings you here? Quickly, I hear your health has just recovered. Please, leave this place, come to a private room, and I will personally attend to your every need." He approached with an obsequious smile, ready to offer support.

Huang Ziqiao swept his whip aside.

"Don't bother. I'm just here to have some fun," he said, tossing a heavy bag of chips squarely onto the 'Qi' marker.

"Place your bets," he roared again.

The gamblers shivered, snapping back to attention.

"But... but we don't want to bet on that side..." someone dared to say.

Before the words finished, Huang Ziqiao's whip pointed directly at that person.

"Then who?" he demanded.

The person instantly ducked behind someone else.

"Sir, he is the son of the Registrar from the Yongqing County Yamen..." the servant next to Huang Ziqiao quickly supplied.

"Good. You, boy, bet whatever you like. After you bet, your father will remember it," Huang Ziqiao shouted.

While a County Registrar might not fear the County Magistrate, the Prefectural Magistrate was their superior.

The man looked near tears.

"This is a gambling hall! How can you force people to bet here!" he cried out.

"Yes, yes," others mumbled in agreement, nodding with aggrieved dissatisfaction. They certainly didn't want to bet on the side of the Qi Young Madam—that was clearly a recipe for losing money. Who would be so foolish as to willingly lose when they could win? This was lunacy!

At that moment, the 'lunatic' slammed his whip onto the table again.

"I am kindly pointing you toward a path to riches! Don't refuse good intentions! Bet on her! Everyone must bet that Madam Qi will win!" he shouted.

Meanwhile, in the lowest tier gambling room, amidst sweat and noise, seventeen or eighteen men of varying ages were crowded around a large table. Following the cries, they threw chips of different amounts onto the table, where two sides showed a stark contrast.

"Why is no one betting on this side?" a newcomer squeezed in to ask. "If it wins, won't the payout be huge?"

The surrounding men turned to look. Seeing a young man with his arms crossed, curiously peering at the table, they called out.

"Little Coffin (Xiao Guan), why don't you place a bet then?" someone familiar shouted.

"If I must, I will," the young man replied, throwing his entire bag of chips onto that side without hesitation.

Accompanied by this distinct pile of chips, everyone laughed happily.

"Perfect. Now that Coffin Boy, who loses every bet he makes, has placed a wager, we are guaranteed to win."