With the hospitalized patients gone, the estate settled into a profound quiet, leaving the disciples unsure of what to do next.

"We still have plenty of tasks ahead of us," Qi Yue stated. "First, a contingent must verify the data on acute abdominal conditions and recent deaths. This time, our scope extends to the villages surrounding the city."

The disciples assigned to verification responded affirmatively and made preparations to depart.

"The remaining disciples will either continue the penicillin extraction with me, or they will prepare supplies—lime for disinfection, bootleg liquor, isolation suits, gloves, hats, and so forth. We must have an abundance of everything," Qi Yue directed.

Hu... nodded.

"Master, it’s just that the lime is becoming difficult to procure," he said with a troubled expression. "We lack manpower, and transporting it from outside will take a long time."

"The Marquis's residence has some," Chang Yuncheng interjected.

Qi Yue nodded.

"Then we will borrow the assistance of the Heir Apparent's household for now," she said.

Hu San acknowledged the instruction.

After these arrangements were finalized, the people in the courtyard dispersed to their respective duties.

Qi Yue proceeded to the rear courtyard, where Liu Pucheng and Doctor Zhu were carefully deliberating over a prescription.

"For the disinfectant drink, perhaps adding a dose of Ban Zhi Lian would be wise..." Doctor Zhu suggested.

Liu Pucheng paused for a moment in thought, nodded, and picked up his brush to write.

"Doctor Zhu, why haven't you returned home?" Qi Yue inquired.

Doctor Zhu smiled faintly.

"Well, I still feel safer here," he admitted.

Qi Yue returned the smile.

"In that case, I thank you, Doctor Zhu. We are currently short-handed, especially needing internists," she said, bowing slightly.

Anyone who claimed this woman was disdainful or arrogant toward her peers clearly misunderstood; Doctor Zhu chuckled inwardly. If you were polite to her, she treated you with such earnest kindness, you’d think you were family.

"I'm afraid I can't be of much help; I don't know much beyond basic medicine," he replied with a slight bow.

"Doctor Zhu, please don't be so modest," Liu Pucheng laughed, then turned back to Qi Yue. "We received a reply from Old Man An; so far, he hasn't discovered any cases of this acute abdominal illness. He also sent over a few prescriptions, which Doctor Zhu and I are currently examining."

Qi Yue nodded.

"Then I leave this here to you, Master," she said. "I'm going to the laboratory on the other side."

As she emerged, Chang Yuncheng was sitting on a stone in the courtyard, idly plucking weeds that had sprouted between the cracks. He stood up when he saw her approach.

"I'm fine now; you should head back quickly," Qi Yue urged.

"I'm fine too," Chang Yuncheng countered. "I think I'll wait a few more days."

"Are you truly fine?" Qi Yue asked, her brow furrowing with a touch of worry. "Won't people talk about you being absent from your duties like this?"

Chang Yuncheng smiled faintly, twisting the grass in his hand.

"Loyalty to family and duty to the sovereign are rarely compatible. My household has had many issues recently; it couldn't be helped. As for whether they talk or not—what does it matter?" he said, offering Qi Yue another slight smile. "You don't care what others say, do you?"

"How can you be like me?" Qi Yue raised her foot and moved forward, murmuring softly.

You belong here; this is your world, and everything about you is inextricably bound to it. As for me, I am merely a transient visitor. Whether good or ill, what does it matter? In the end, I will only be a solitary wandering soul.

Chang Yuncheng followed behind her, sensing the sudden dip in the woman’s mood.

"Here, for you," he said, instinctively extending the grass he held.

Qi Yue turned back and saw that Chang Yuncheng had woven the blades of grass into a small rabbit—the fluffy timothy grass rendered into a remarkably lifelike form.

"Oh my, you know how to do this?" A surprised smile touched her lips. She reached out, took the creation, glancing from the rabbit to Chang Yuncheng. "For hands as rough as yours, to weave something like this?"

Chang Yuncheng smiled sheepishly and averted his gaze.

"There was nothing to do in the military; it was something I picked up to pass the time, learned from Jiang Hai. It's the only thing I know," he explained.

Speaking of Jiang Hai, he recalled the pile of miscellaneous items the young man had asked him to deliver to this woman, still stuffed under the bed in his quarters. That stash probably contained quite a few trinkets designed to charm women...

He couldn't help but glance at Qi Yue, watching for any reaction to the name.

Qi Yue showed no response, gazing at the little grass rabbit in her hand and smiling. Her eyes shone brightly, instantly sweeping away the recent gloom.

"Hey, hey, weave me two more," she urged, playfully tapping Chang Yuncheng’s arm.

Chang Yuncheng grunted an affirmation, bent down to pluck another handful from the ground, and began weaving as they walked. Qi Yue stayed close beside him, watching intently.

A’ru observed the two figures walking side by side, slowing her pace until she finally turned around.

Behind her, a group of disciples were exchanging knowing glances.

"What are you doing?" A’ru demanded, raising an eyebrow. "Every one of you has been issued a syringe. How is your injection practice going? I'll be checking later. Anyone who hasn't mastered it yet, practice on yourselves!"

The disciples stuck out their tongues.

"Sister A'ru is getting fiercer," they muttered, quickly scattering.

After a night of continuous labor, Qi Yue stretched languidly as she stepped out of the laboratory.

The early summer morning was still quite cool, prompting her to stroll toward the lake. A sound body was essential for good work, and she intended to get in some exercise.

"Hey." Wang Qiao'er's voice drifted over.

Why was this child here again? Qi Yue started in surprise. Following the sound, she saw a small girl sitting by the lake, where the morning mist hung faintly, her two legs dangling toward the water.

"Hey, little one, stay away from the water!" Qi Yue called out immediately, hurrying over and grasping the girl's shoulder, pulling her back roughly.

Wang Qiao'er yelped at the sharp tug.

"Ugh, you woman are terribly rough!" she cried out.

"And how much better are you?" Qi Yue laughed, but she managed to pull the girl onto the path away from the lake. Then, she fired off a string of questions: Where are the people accompanying you? Why are you always running off by yourself? Are you staying here this early? How can you stay here? It’s dangerous now! Don't your family care?

Wang Qiao'er rolled her eyes at the barrage of nagging.

"Enough, you talk too much," she pouted, waving her hand impatiently before pointing. "My father built a small courtyard for me over there; it belongs only to me."

Qi Yue followed the direction of the finger. Naturally, she couldn't see anything beyond the courtyard wall.

"You have your own estate at such a young age?" she laughed, reaching out to pat Wang Qiao'er’s head. "Truly a rich person."

"But I don't have a mother," Wang Qiao'er looked up and said coldly.

Qi Yue’s hand didn't stop, and she patted the girl's head again.

"There are plenty of people in this world without mothers," she stated calmly. "Nothing to be mournful about."

Wang Qiao'er glared. Wasn't what she said a tragic event? Wouldn't other people usually burst into tears and try to comfort her? Why was this woman so utterly unfazed?

But then again, it didn't matter much. Thinking about how this woman dared to curse everyone in the city who didn't believe her to death, she certainly wouldn't be overly polite to her.

"Even if you don't have a mother, you have a father, grandparents, great-grandparents, wealth, status, and... you're so beautiful..." Qi Yue continued, reaching out to stroke Wang Qiao'er's cheek. The little girl’s face was smooth and soft, prompting Qi Yue to pinch it a couple more times.

Wang Qiao'er recoiled with a look of distaste.

"Some people," Qi Yue went on, "have no mothers, no fathers, no other relatives. They starve, they freeze, they have nothing at all, and they only have the struggle to survive—no time left even for grief. But what of it? That is destiny. It happened because it happened, and it is mercilessly rolling forward. It will not care about our sadness or complaints."

Wang Qiao'er listened, understanding only in fragments, and remained silent.

Qi Yue sighed and began doing some stretches.

"Hey, you don't look very ladylike doing that," Wang Qiao'er commented, frowning.

"That’s why you shouldn't learn from me," Qi Yue joked, executing a dramatic side bend.

Wang Qiao'er’s eyes lit up.

"Wow," she exclaimed in admiration. Just as she was about to offer praise, she saw Qi Yue’s expression twist in pain.

"Stop the 'wow,' I'm getting a cramp! Quick, give me a hand," Qi Yue called out.

Wang Qiao'er stared, momentarily stunned, then burst into giggles.

The crisp sound of a child’s laughter scattered across the lakeside in the morning air.

"Don't worry. My great-grandfather has already written a document to the authorities on your behalf, putting in a good word for you."

Having settled back down by the lake, Wang Qiao'er suddenly mentioned this.

Qi Yue, who was rubbing her lower back, simply acknowledged the information with an "Oh."

"Then I must truly thank your great-grandfather," she replied.

"Weren't you scared at the time? The way you cursed people?" Wang Qiao'er asked, looking at her with genuine curiosity.

"Not scared. What was there to fear?" Qi Yue responded.

"Why not?" Wang Qiao'er pressed, even more curious.

"Because I knew what I was doing was right. My conscience is clear," Qi Yue explained.

Wang Qiao'er tilted her head slightly, pondering.

"As long as you believe what you’re doing is right?" she murmured.

"Hey, hey," Qi Yue nudged her with her elbow. "This kind of 'right' isn't the kind that only suits your selfish perspective. Take, for instance, when you broke my thermometer—that wasn't the 'right' thing to do. It has to be about what is best for the greater good."

Wang Qiao'er pouted at her, huffed, and turned her head. Facing the morning sunlight, she noticed a tall figure approaching along the path and her eyes brightened.

"Can I call you Auntie?" she quickly turned back and asked Qi Yue.

The question caught Qi Yue completely off guard—Auntie?

"Can you be my Auntie?" Wang Qiao'er repeated, her expression soft, imbued with the innocent sorrow only a child possesses. "I don't have an Auntie..."

"Yes," Qi Yue nodded quickly.

Wang Qiao'er broke into a radiant smile and stood up.

"Uncle," she called sweetly toward Chang Yuncheng, who was striding toward them.

Qi Yue was momentarily shocked, then understood everything, and broke into a hearty laugh.

Chang Yuncheng, startled, had initially thought Yan'er had returned and turned around to scan the area. Only when he heard Wang Qiao'er call out did he realize it was the child addressing him. Seeing Qi Yue covering her mouth and laughing, he found himself unable to stop smiling as well.

It truly was a beautiful morning.

In the city, a certain pharmacy opened its doors at dawn, greeting its first patient: a man suffering from diarrhea.

"Doctor, have I caught the acute abdominal illness?" the middle-aged man asked, his face etched with panic.

"What nonsense, you just caught a chill last night," the woman accompanying him complained. "You’ve only had one bout of it, and you’re already this terrified. Didn't the doctor outside look at you? He said a bowl of ginger soup would fix it."

The pharmacist chuckled, about to attend to him, when another person rushed in from outside.

"Doctor, Doctor, quickly look at this sore that grew on my neck!" It was a burly man, wearing a greasy apron. "I didn't pay attention, but it appeared two days ago, and today it seems to be oozing pus..."

The Doctor first examined the man, confirming the presence of a boil on his neck—black in the depression, surrounded by grayish-green pus.

"This is a Ding!" he declared. "Sit down, I'll lance it for you, and then we'll apply a poultice. It will heal in two or three days."

The big man sighed in relief, though his fear remained palpable.

"You have to use a knife... that will hurt," he mumbled.

The shop assistant nearby laughed.

"Boss Wang, you spend all day slaughtering pigs and playing with knives; you're afraid of a little pain?" they teased.

The man with diarrhea joined in the laughter.

"Lance Boss Wang the Butcher first! Lance Boss Wang the Butcher first!" he urged, showing no sign of distress from an acute abdominal condition.

The Doctor laughed, approaching with a scalpel.

"Too much pig slaughter must be retribution," he joked. With practiced efficiency, he lanced the boil, suctioned out the necrotic tissue, cleaned the area, and applied the plaster. He patted the man's shoulder, who was hunched over, half-fainting from the pain and fear. "There, it’s done."

The man finally relaxed.

"I have business to attend to; I’m leaving," he said, tossing down some silver and departing quickly.

The Doctor and others watched him go, smiling.

"First time seeing Boss Wang the Butcher look so scared," the man with diarrhea remarked.

The Doctor washed his hands simply and turned to the remaining patient.

"Come, let me see what's going on with you," he said. He checked the man’s pulse, listened to his breathing, inquired about his symptoms, and examined his eyes, tongue, and mouth. After a thorough check, he retrieved a dark, round pill from the back and presented it in his hand. "If you’re still worried, take one of these pills."

"Is this the miraculous pill that cures acute abdominal illness?" the patient asked, his eyes shining brightly.

The Doctor nodded.

"However, it's quite expensive. Perhaps you should wait a bit longer. If it's not severe and gets better on its own, you won't have to waste money..." he added cautiously.

The patient snatched the pill, stuffing it into his mouth without even chewing, and swallowed.

"I feel safer having it inside me," he said cheerfully, throwing the payment to the Doctor as he left.

Earning more money was certainly welcome, and the Doctor saw him out with a genial smile. Before the first patient had even left the doorway, two or three more patrons arrived—one with a sprain, one with a cut foot, and another with a twisted neck. The Doctor was kept busy with knives and acupuncture until darkness fell.

"Without Qian Jin Tang here, life is certainly tiring," the Doctor sighed, reaching back to rub his sore waist.

The assistants burst into laughter.

"But we are tired and happy," they chorused.

Similar scenes unfolded in several pharmacies across the city. In short, a joyful atmosphere enveloped Yongqing Prefecture, lasting until the dawn of the third day.

As the morning mist lifted, the first early riser out to empty the night soil noticed something abnormal.

Right at the street corner, a person lay motionless.

A drunkard? The early riser approached curiously, and upon drawing near, saw the face of the person lying upturned was black, with blood streaming from all five orifices.

"D-dead! A corpse!" A shriek shattered the quiet street.

Simultaneously, a succession of screams erupted in different parts of the city, as if trumpets were sounding the arrival of Yama, who had entered Yongqing Prefecture, brandishing his soul-reaping brush.

Oh, by the way, I have a special broadcast on Qidian Xiū on July 26th, between 9:00 and 9:30 PM! I suffer from social anxiety; please support me by participating. Won't I sound stupid talking alone into a microphone?!! What should I say during that time? Please spare half an hour of your time to show some moral support!!... RS