"Master, Master, we've reached the Capital!" he shouted.

That reaction immediately marked him as a country bumpkin; passersby on the roadside sneered.

"Still a ways to go," someone reminded him.

The disciple managed an awkward smile, but couldn't resist asking the passerby how much further it was and what the Capital was like.

Qiao Minghua gazed ahead, his habitually impassive expression finally showing a slight softening.

We’re here.

We’ll be seeing it soon…

"Master, Master, let's hurry up," the disciple called out happily after finishing his chat with the local.

Qiao Minghua snapped back to attention and murmured an assent. The thin mule had been swapped for a sturdy, robust little donkey.

The master and disciple mounted and moved forward at a steady clip. The sound of hooves came from behind them; they yielded the way, watching a horse gallop past.

The rider pulled up the horse and looked at them.

It was the same man they had met at the post station!

The disciple spotted the black box strapped behind him immediately.

It was good to ride a horse; he could catch up so quickly even while assisting an official investigation in the Capital.

"Lord Yuan," Qiao Minghua greeted him with a slight bow.

Yuan Ziqing nodded.

"Are you heading into the Capital?" he asked, after a slight hesitation.

What an obvious question...

The disciple felt a bit speechless.

"Yes," Qiao Minghua replied.

Yuan Ziqing looked at him. Is it Qianjin Hall?

He started to speak.

"We are going to the Ministry of War," Qiao Minghua finished.

The Ministry of War...

Yuan Ziqing said, "Oh," and swallowed the words gathering on his tongue. There are so many doctors in the world; how could meeting one make me think of her...

Yuan Ziqing lowered his head and smiled softly.

"Lord Yuan, are you headed to the Ministry of Justice?" Qiao Minghua inquired, recalling fragmented whispers from the night before.

"No, the Dali Temple," Yuan Ziqing stated.

Having said that, he nodded a farewell, turned his horse, and trotted off.

"Honestly, I thought he was going to invite us to a meal, but he didn't even offer any polite pleasantries," the disciple grumbled.

"You have no relatives here; if he invited you, would you dare go?" Qiao Minghua remarked.

The disciple stuck out his tongue.

"Master, let's go too," he said, the youth alight with eagerness for the bustling Capital.

Qiao Minghua nodded and urged the donkey onward.

"Master, should we enter the city first, or go to..." the disciple asked.

Qiao Minghua looked at the road ahead.

Though this was his first time here, the path, which he had silently recited countless times, now clearly emerged before him.

North of the Capital, beyond Xiling, below Wuli Village, beside an old locust and willow, stood a grave, and near it, a temple.

He did not speak, but urged the donkey forward.

The disciple also fell silent, walking along quietly.

After covering some distance, the disciple suddenly exclaimed.

They had encountered the man on the horse again up ahead.

Yuan Ziqing had dismounted to water his horse; he turned back upon hearing the noise, clearly surprised as well.

But both smiled, and neither spoke.

Qiao Minghua and the disciple passed without stopping.

Yuan Ziqing mounted his horse shortly after.

They rode on, one ahead of the other, along the road.

"Master, that man is following us," the disciple couldn't help but remark, looking back.

"The main road is wide open; is it only for you to use?" Qiao Minghua said dryly.

The disciple stuck out his tongue; Master's words were always sharp, and he dared not speak again.

They rode on in silence for a while, until Yuan Ziqing broke the quiet.

"The Ministry of War isn't this way, is it?" he called out.

"We're going to see someone first," Qiao Minghua replied, then looked back at him, "Is the Dali Temple this way?"

Yuan Ziqing shook his head.

"I'm going to see someone too," he said.

Qiao Minghua hummed an acknowledgment.

No one spoke further, riding one behind the other, yet always remaining on the same stretch of road.

"Who are you two going to see?" Yuan Ziqing asked.

Qiao Minghua stopped walking, looking at the scene not far ahead. The first things that caught his eye were indeed two ancient trees. They matched the description given by people from the Capital, and they matched what he had envisioned.

"Her," he said, pointing a finger.

Yuan Ziqing followed the gesture.

It is her after all... So his guess was right; whenever he encountered a doctor, there was a connection to her. This woman certainly has wide-ranging friendships...

Yuan Ziqing smiled, but it was a strained expression.

Qi Yueriang, I have come to see you. I have stepped into the Capital, relying on my own efforts, step by painful step.

A cry broke the silence.

Yuan Ziqing instinctively raised a hand to cover his mouth, only to realize the sound was not his own outburst.

The sound came from before the grave. A man was weeping uncontrollably, supported by two younger men. Behind them stood seven or eight others, all bowing their heads in tears.

The disciple beside Qiao Minghua let out an "Ah," tinged with surprise.

"It's Lord Zhang!" he exclaimed, tugging Qiao Minghua's sleeve. "It's the Superintendent of the Military Hospital! He’s returned to the Capital too? He’s actually one of Madam Qi’s disciples?"

"Lord Zhang came from Qianjin Hall," Qiao Minghua explained.

The disciple murmured an "Oh," looking at the man—who currently cut far from an imposing figure—with a renewed sense of reverence. The Military Hospital established in Zhangjiakou, a major border fortress, was famous in the frontier regions. Many soldiers, crippled and rendered useless by injury, were selected to enter, where they learned battlefield first aid techniques. This gave them not only a chance to support their families again but also allowed them to remain connected to the military life they knew. So, this Superintendent was also a disciple of Madam Qi.

Lord Zhang, who had served on the border for seven years, tirelessly training successive batches of military doctors, saving countless wounded soldiers—a man who rose from commoner to court official, granted imperial mandate to fully oversee military medicine, a legendary figure in the Nine Border Fortresses—was now crying like a child, devoid of any mysterious bearing.

"Master, how could you break your promise!" he cried, beating his chest as tears streamed down. "Master, I did what you told me to do, I achieved what you wanted—how could you go back on your word! You promised to protect us, to be our backing, how did you fail to do that!"

The disciples offered sympathetic tears until the intensity subsided.

"Master, look, these are the records of the wounded soldiers we treated over the years," Zhang Tong said, kneeling on the ground.

A nearby disciple brought forward a large bundle and opened it, revealing piles of notebooks.

"Master, I'll burn them for you to see," Zhang Tong said.

Disciples had already set up a large brazier. Zhang Tong, weeping, tossed the books in one by one. Smoke billowed from the offerings before the grave.

When Zhang Tong was helped away from the gravesite, Qiao Minghua had already stepped aside.

"Lord Qiao?" Zhang Tong saw him, stopped, and spoke with a hoarse voice.

His Master knows Lord Zhang? The disciple was surprised and excited.

Qiao Minghua offered a respectful salute.

"You've come to the Capital too?" Zhang Tong asked, his nose twitching with emotion again upon seeing him.

"Yes, an official order came down to deliver some documents," Qiao Minghua replied.

"You've gone to a lot of trouble," Zhang Tong commented. What document requires a trip here instead of using the postal system? He must have wanted to see it with his own eyes.

Qiao Minghua lowered his head, saying nothing.

"Come sit at Qianjin Hall," Zhang Tong invited.

Qiao Minghua agreed. Zhang Tong, surrounded by his disciples, started to walk away, then suddenly paused.

Qiao Minghua looked up and saw Zhang Tong staring at the man behind him.

"Xiao... Xiao Guan?" Zhang Tong cried out in astonishment.

Xiao Guan?

Qiao Minghua turned back and saw Lord Yuan nod his head.

"You... there has been no word from you all these years. You... what are you now...?" Zhang Tong said, agitated.

"I went quite far away," Yuan Ziqing replied.

"Oh, good, good. And what are you now?" Zhang Tong hesitated, wanting to ask more, but feeling it inappropriate.

"I am nothing yet," Yuan Ziqing said. "But I can casually enter shops to eat and buy things now."

Zhang Tong couldn't help but smile, recalling the 'Coffin Boy' who was shunned and feared back in Yongqing Prefecture.

Qiao Minghua paused slightly, looking at Yuan Ziqing. Nothing? That can't be right... he was assigned to the Dali Temple and brought to the Capital...

"You go attend to your business," Yuan Ziqing said, preemptively ending the exchange.

"That temperament hasn't changed," Zhang Tong observed, smiling, then nodded. "If you feel like it, come visit Qianjin Hall."

Yuan Ziqing just nodded, neither promising to come nor refusing.

Zhang Tong bowed and departed.

As the large entourage disappeared, the gravesite fell quiet again.

Qiao Minghua looked at Yuan Ziqing, who returned his gaze.

"You speak first," Yuan Ziqing said, gesturing an invitation.

Qiao Minghua looked at the headstone. There must be hope... I will show you what hope looks like...

Qiao Minghua lowered his head and smiled.

In truth, there was nothing he needed to see or say.

He let out a breath, turned, and walked away.

The disciple was stunned, glancing at Yuan Ziqing, then at the tombstone. He's leaving just like that? After traveling thousands of miles, just a glance and gone? Without even approaching...?

"Master, Master..." he called, chasing after him.

Qiao Minghua was already on the donkey, setting off at a steady pace without looking back. The disciple had no choice but to follow.

The master and disciple soon vanished down the main road.

Yuan Ziqing walked up to the grave. The large brazier where offerings were burned was still smoking faintly. He sat cross-legged on the ground, opened the bundle he carried, and took out two bottles of wine.

"Come, let's drink," he said, then tilted back one bottle, gulping down the entire contents. He then poured the remaining bottle onto the ashes in the brazier. The liquid hissed, and smoke erupted, swirling around him.

"I'm in the Capital now. You wait. Soon you can tell others that I, Yuan Ziqing, served under you," he said, smiling at the tombstone.

His smile faded, and he looked down again.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly. "In the end, you didn't get to wait..."

The smoke cleared, the sizzling stopped, and the scent of wine dissipated on the wind. Yuan Ziqing finally looked up at the stone.

"Actually, I couldn't bear to leave you either," he said, then laughed softly, pushed himself up with a hand on the ground, clapped his hands together, and announced, "Qi Yueriang, I'm leaving now."

He too rode off on his horse without looking back.

Entering the city gates, the clamor and splendor rushed towards him. Yuan Ziqing felt momentarily dizzy.

"Excuse me, where is the medical hall, Qianjin Hall?" he asked a passerby.

The person glanced at him.

"Seeking a doctor, are you?" he asked, pointing the way and giving directions.

Yuan Ziqing thanked him and was about to leave when the man grabbed his arm again.

"Hey, don't go there now; something happened at Qianjin Hall," the man warned.

Something happened? Yuan Ziqing looked astonished.

"Yeah, it seems there was a problem with the medicine, someone died. They filed a complaint, and things are chaotic there now," the local informed him enthusiastically.

Before he finished speaking, the other person had walked away, much to the annoyance of the man who wanted to give more details. Country folk have no manners!

When Yuan Ziqing arrived before Qianjin Hall, he felt transported back to the days in Yongqing Prefecture, the only difference being the far greater crowd in the Capital; he could barely push through.

"...Dong Lin! Has your old habit flared up again?" Hu San cursed at the man dressed in the robes of an Imperial Physician standing before him. "Why must the medicine from our Qianjin Hall be faulty? Sealing the hall? Who do you think you are?"

"The fact is, someone took the medicine and died. Chief Steward Hu, you still need to accept the inspection," Dong Lin said, slowly stroking his beard.

Hu San shot him a cold laugh.

"Fine, Dong. You actually managed to climb into the Imperial Academy, leveraging my Master's reputation to gain so much favor?" he sneered.

Dong Lin returned the cold laugh.

"Chief Steward Hu, I dare not accept such words. How would I dare use your Master's name? People are merely giving me an opportunity out of respect for my lineage," he said, straightening his face. "Since that is the case, I must perform my duties faithfully so as not to disgrace the sect..."

Before he finished speaking, the crowd stirred with noise, several voices shouting in unison.

"Make way! Make way!"

The shouts startled the onlookers, who parted to create a path. Yuan Ziqing was nearly knocked over by the crowd surge. When he looked up again, he saw an old man striding purposefully into Qianjin Hall.

"Master!" Hu San shouted, overjoyed.

"Senior Brother..." Dong Lin also called out, though his expression was one of surprise.

Liu Pucheng swept his gaze over the constables present.

"Since this involves medicinal matters, the Imperial Academy will take charge," he decreed.

The constables eyed him skeptically, frowning.

"Why should that be? Who are you to make the final call?" the lead constable scoffed.

"Yes, Senior Brother, this matter really..." Dong Lin rushed over to interject.

"Shut up!" Liu Pucheng snapped, turning to yell at him.

This was the first time Dong Lin had heard Liu Pucheng speak so loudly, and he flinched in shock.

"Of course, I have the final say," Liu Pucheng stated, pulling a document from his sleeve. "This is my writ of appointment as the Superintendent of the Imperial Academy."

Hearing this, Hu San let out a great shout of joy.

"Master, you've finally agreed to take the post," he cried, nearly overcome with emotion.

Since Zhou Maochun had abandoned the Imperial Academy to wander the lands, the court had held new selections for the vacant post. Given Liu Pucheng's status as Chief Physician Meng and his connection to Madam Qi, many recommended him, but Liu Pucheng had remained in Yongqing Prefecture, refusing the appointment.

"Senior Brother, this is wonderful," Dong Lin managed, forcing a smile.

"Indeed. As the Eldest Senior Brother, I will take on the task of bringing glory to our sect," Liu Pucheng told him. "You, go back."

Dong Lin gasped, then suddenly remembered something as he turned to leave.

"Senior Brother, where do you want me to go back to?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Go back to your hometown," Liu Pucheng replied.

Dong Lin was aghast.

"Senior Brother, you can't do this! Senior Brother, I was just trying to help you," he pleaded, grabbing Liu Pucheng's arm, his expression sorrowful. "Senior Brother, I only did this to uphold the sect and protect your reputation... Please, have mercy on me, I don't want to be stuck in that place forever..."

Liu Pucheng looked at him, shaking his head.

"Junior Brother, I pitied you before and indulged you, but I cannot do so now," he said, shaking off the grip and waving a hand. "Leave."

Dong Lin tried to protest further, but Liu Pucheng’s disciples stepped forward, took hold of him without ceremony, and led him out.

"Master..." Hu San called out, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"You're a grown man, why are you crying?" Liu Pucheng chuckled.

"Master, you are finally here," Hu San said, his face full of grievance.

"Yes, I am here. You focus on your work; leave everything else to me," Liu Pucheng assured him, then turned to the constables and extended his hand. "Please ask your official to come to the Imperial Academy to discuss this; I will await him there."

Yuan Ziqing turned from the crowd and began walking out. He glanced back once more, seeing the commotion outside Qianjin Hall begin to dissipate.

"It's time," he clenched his fist, a faint smile appearing, and then he turned and strode away.