As noon approached, the snow finally ceased. Qi Yue stepped out of the doorway, with A'Ru following closely, carrying the medicine chest.

“Why didn’t Jiang Hai come?” Hu San craned his neck towards the gate from the courtyard, sounding rather curious.

“Brother-in-law, were you looking for him for something?” A’Hao, still wearing an apron and with flour dusting her hands, asked, perplexed.

“Nothing, I’m just not used to it,” Hu San chuckled.

This remark caused the others to laugh.

“Alright, stop teasing him. If it weren’t for him, Hu San, perhaps we wouldn't even know each other now,” Qi Yue said with a smile.

Hu San blushed and laughed sheepishly.

“Don’t mention the past, don’t mention the past—look forward, always look forward,” he quickly said, a gesture of loyalty towards A’Ru. He still shuddered thinking about how close they had come to being mortal enemies back then; he owed his good fortune to some ancestral merit.

A’Ru pouted and paid him no mind.

“Let’s go. He must be busy too; he has two more wounded soldiers needing a secondary debridement today. Let’s hurry,” Qi Yue said, already taking the first step forward.

A’Ru and Xiao Qu followed.

However, unlike their previous unimpeded passage, this time they were stopped right outside the barracks gate.

“Why won’t you let us in?” Qi Yue inquired.

The guards at the gate couldn't even be bothered to look at her.

“If we say you can’t enter, you can’t enter. What’s there to ask why?” they replied indifferently.

“But they requested me to treat them,” Qi Yue said, gesturing towards the inside.

“The camp has its own military physicians. Unauthorized personnel are forbidden entry,” the guard stated flatly.

“But…” A’Ru started to speak, but Qi Yue quickly held her back.

Qi Yue shook her head at A’Ru.

A’Ru had no choice but to swallow her words.

Qi Yue gazed into the barracks. In stark contrast to the eager reception from the wounded soldiers on previous days, the interior was now quiet as if deserted.

At this moment, all the wounded men were inside their quarters, their eyes filled with fury as they stared at the line of fully armed and armored guards blocking the doorway.

“Are you only satisfied when you watch us suffer because we can’t receive treatment and eventually die?” one wounded soldier shouted hoarsely, clenching his fists. “You are soldiers too! You will fight on the battlefield! Can you guarantee that your day won’t come?”

This question caused a few of the guards at the gate to show a flicker of emotion.

Someone snorted coldly.

“And what if that day comes? Don’t forget the brothers who died,” he said calmly.

This was an officer, his face stern as he watched the wounded soldiers. Under his gaze, the spirited soldiers began to show some apprehension.

“From the day you enlisted, you knew this day might come. Afraid to die? If you’re scared, take off these clothes and get lost!” he bellowed. “You’re injured? Wallowing around as if you’re about to die? What about those who died? Did they not know they were rushing into death? Why did they still rush forward? Why didn’t they complain?”

He surveyed the men before him. The room fell silent.

“If you want to die, I won’t stop you. If you want to live, I won’t make it difficult, but the barracks have rules! Whoever dares to disrupt my rules—don’t blame me for showing no mercy! Whether dead or alive, I only see the rules!” the imposing man roared coldly again. “If I catch anyone bringing women into the camp again, whether it’s the person bringing them or the doctor, I will deal with them under military law—beaten to death with cudgels.”

When Da Chun finally got the news and rushed over, the wounded soldiers’ barracks had returned to a state of dead stillness.

“Military law is military law, but they can’t be this inhumane!” Da Chun fumed, turning to leave. “I’m going to reason with them! These masters of theirs—do they care one bit if we live or die?”

Da Chun bolted out but couldn't find those ‘masters.’ Given his standing, he only earned a beating and was thrown out. Dejected, Da Chun walked the streets, ashamed to face his comrades and unwilling to go home. He wandered aimlessly until he looked up and found himself standing before that Madam Qi’s house again.

Presumably, Madam Qi had also received a warning today. If the doctors weren’t allowed to treat them, so be it. After all, the world was never short of the sick.

Da Chun stood there for a long time, lost in thought. With a creak, the door opened, and a man and a woman emerged. The woman held a stack of flyers, and the man carried a vertical plaque.

“Hey, aren’t you that…” The woman’s eyes lit up when she saw Da Chun and called out.

The man also looked over.

“Da Chun, you’ve arrived at the perfect time,” Xiao Qu beckoned to him while hanging the plaque near the doorframe.

Da Chun hesitated before walking over. He looked at the writing on the plaque but couldn't read it; he was illiterate.

“Since it’s inconvenient for us to enter the barracks, the Madam has decided to open the clinic here, at home. So, if you need treatment, just come here,” Xiao Qu explained, reaching out to brush the characters on the plaque.

What?

Da Chun was stunned, looking at Xiao Qu in disbelief. This Madam hadn't backed down; instead, she was continuing to treat them?

“These are flyers. Take these back and hand them out to anyone who needs them,” A’Hao said, handing him the stack of papers.

Da Chun shuffled his hands and respectfully accepted them.

“I… I can’t read,” he stammered.

“Oh, we thought of that already, so we drew pictures,” A’Hao said with a knowing smile.

Da Chun looked down. The paper was illustrated with little figures showing limbs with various injuries—some lying down bleeding, others pierced by arrows. Center stage was a drawing of a woman with an inviting gesture, and beside her was a line of text.

The text was the same as that on the plaque. Da Chun counted silently in his head.

“What is this?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“This is…” A’Hao pointed and read aloud, “Yongqing Qianjin Hall, Gansu Garrison Branch.”

Yongqing Qianjin Hall, Gansu Garrison Branch?

Da Chun quietly repeated the name to himself.

“That’s the name of our Madam’s clinic,” A’Hao said with a hint of pride.

A troop of men passed down the street, drawing much attention. The men on horseback were all carrying plum tree branches on their shoulders, an image that looked particularly comical. Most of the men probably felt embarrassed, deliberately using the plum branches to shield their faces, but one man didn't seem to mind at all. Not only was he holding his head high, but his smile was even brighter than the plum blossoms.

“Xiao Jiang, Xiao Jiang…”

Several women waved and called from the roadside shops.

“Why are they carrying so many broken plum branches?”

“Is some important official hosting a plum blossom viewing party at home?”

Jiang Hai seemed not to hear them, galloping away in a flash, leaving a trail of gossiping and speculation in his wake.

Once they finally reached their quarters, the men breathed a sigh of relief.

“I say, Xiao Jiang, doing something this embarrassing once is enough,” one commented.

“Yeah! Why bring plum blossoms? You could have brought gold, silver jewelry, hairpins, or clothes—women love that stuff. What good are these useless flowers?”

“Exactly! Have you gone simple-minded from chasing too many women?”

The men teased him one after another. Jiang Hai ignored them, happily directing the soldiers to place the branches into a large urn. Then, he slowly and carefully began clipping off individual blossoms until he formed a bouquet.

“Go on, shoo,” Jiang Hai finally waved his hand at the men who were still chattering and laughing nearby. “What do you know, you bunch of bachelors? You probably only dream of hugging your quilts as wives. How would you know what women like!”

“As if you have a wife!” The others were annoyed, shouting back.

Jiang Hai turned around at their words and grinned at them.

“I’m going to marry a wife very soon,” he announced.

Jiang Hai waited patiently until it was nearly dark. For a frontier town with little nightlife, the streets were almost empty by then. Only then did he happily charge out with the plum blossoms, preparing to surprise Madam Qi. But as he reached the alley entrance, he heard a commotion. Looking up, he saw many people entering and exiting the doorway—all soldiers just like him.

Jiang Hai’s mind went blank. How could anyone just walk into Madam Qi’s house? It infuriated him—Madam Qi belonged to him!

As night fell, the crowd in the courtyard dispersed.

“Everyone, don’t worry. I open for consultations daily. It’s just that this was rushed, and we ran out of medicine. Please be patient and wait a little longer,” Qi Yue said.

They nodded, thanked her repeatedly, and then limped away. Qi Yue watched them go, letting out a soft sigh.

“Madam, you’ve been busy all day. Come wash up, and let’s eat,” A’Hao rushed out from the room.

Just as she finished speaking, a voice called out ‘Madam Qi’ from outside the door.

A’Hao’s face immediately fell. She thought the boy had changed his ways! But no, he still managed to show up precisely at dinnertime!

Qi Yue also looked toward the door, but the first thing that caught her eye wasn't Jiang Hai’s smiling face, but the vibrant red plum blossoms, shining brilliantly under the snow and the light of the lanterns in the courtyard.

“Wow,” Qi Yue couldn’t help but exclaim, her face breaking into a smile. Few women truly disliked flowers, and even A’Hao, who disliked this freeloader, had her eyes gleaming.

Jiang Hai peeked out from behind the plum branches, grinning widely, revealing his white teeth.

“Madam Qi, I invite you to admire the plum blossoms,” he said.

Since hanging the sign and after Da Chun informed the wounded soldiers, Qi Yue’s door became a lively place. Qi Yue and the others were constantly busy. Because the medicine they brought was used up quickly, they had to prepare new batches on the spot. Fortunately, these types of wounds were simple, primarily requiring anesthetics and anti-inflammatories. However, after just a couple of days, this bustling activity was interrupted again.

“Why am I forbidden from practicing medicine? This time I didn’t even enter the barracks! Am I not allowed to practice in my own home?” Qi Yue frowned as she looked at the official documents presented by several soldiers before her.

“There is no ‘why.’ The garrison maintains strict checks to prevent spies. People like you, whose origins are unknown, are not permitted contact with the soldiers,” the leading officer stated coolly.

“What do you mean, unknown origins? Didn't I already tell you? I am from Yongqing Prefecture,” Qi Yue insisted, frowning.

But her words were cut short.

“Stop the nonsense. If we see you practicing medicine again, you will be expelled from our Gansu Garrison,” the officer leader said coldly.

Qi Yue frowned at him.

“Hey, do you even know who we are?” Xiao Qu couldn't help but shout.

“I know,” the officer leader sneered dismissively. “Miracle doctors, right?”

Xiao Qu started to step forward, but Qi Yue stopped him. Her gaze swept over the surrounding onlookers and suddenly spotted a somewhat familiar figure. The man, carrying a wine jug, seemed to be passing by. He turned, looked their way with an indifferent expression, and then turned away, continuing on his path.

It was that military doctor! Could it be them?

“I’m not a child, so don’t use these grand, empty, fabricated titles on me. The truth is, you’re trying to drive me away because I cured wounds your military doctors couldn’t, making them lose face, right?” Qi Yue challenged.

This woman was certainly clever, but it was a false cleverness. Did she truly not know who she had offended? Face—in this Gansu Garrison, whose standing had she dared to challenge without realizing it?

The officers sneered, about to speak, when someone else spoke first.

“I’ve seen plenty of people like you.”

Qiao Minghua slowly walked over, pushing aside the crowd blocking the way. As he spoke, he stood at the forefront, looking at Qi Yue with the same indifferent expression.

“I’ve seen plenty of doctors like you,” he repeated. “You treat two or three illnesses others can’t, and the populace starts calling you a miracle doctor. You feign modesty, but in your heart, you already consider yourself divine. You mouth platitudes about saving the world and delivering all beings, but in reality, you are nothing but fame-seekers chasing profit. Face—what face can someone like you, who has no honor, possibly damage?”