Chapter 50: An Old Friend from Afar

Once a person's health fails, they tire easily and want nothing more than to lie down and recuperate. But once a person's health fails, no position is comfortable for lying.

They say no one who's been ill a long time keeps a good temper. If you can't even sleep properly, how could your temper be any good?

Zhu Shi'an was a physician herself. She knew what was wrong with her body, and she knew that as long as she nursed herself properly, she would slowly recover.

Unable to sleep, Zhu Shi'an didn't force herself. She closed her eyes to rest them, silently reciting the Scripture for Dispelling Calamities: The revolutions of heaven and earth also meet their ends. The sun, moon, and stars also wax and wane. All things change, all have their birth and completion. Man's fortune and misfortune follow likewise.

The soft sunlight of late spring spilled in through the open wooden window. Zhu Shi'an lay on the low bed beneath the window, reciting and reciting until she fell asleep.

Zhu Fengqin tiptoed in through the door, took a thin quilt from the bed and draped it over her, then turned and pulled the door shut.

Little White sprawled on the windowsill, airing itself in the sun—its back first, then its belly—until its whole body was toasty warm and it felt overheated and wanted a cold bath. So it slipped down off the windowsill and slithered toward the back garden.

At this season, last winter's withered lotus had already been pulled out, and the newly sprouted lotus leaves were only palm-sized. Wang Erzhu was hiding under the tender leaves, drifting about for fun, when a white tail suddenly splashed into the water jar. He dove at once into the lotus root joints at the bottom.

Hiding in the roots didn't save him. The damned snake demon's tail probed down to the jar's bottom and snapped off the two thickest sections of the lotus root he had been hiding in, curling them away.

Wang Erzhu hid in the jar, its sediment churned into chaos, silently weeping. Horrible thing—all it knows is how to bully him. If it really pushed him too far, he'd go down to the underworld tonight and file a complaint.

Little White carried the two lotus root sections to the kitchen with its tail. Seeing it, Zhu Fengqin laughed: "Weren't you sunning yourself on the windowsill? Why did you go digging up lotus root?"

Little White said nothing, only tossed the roots toward the pot. Zhu Fengqin hurriedly stopped it: "There's fish soup simmering in that pot—lotus root can't go in."

Zhu Fengqin set the snatched lotus roots in a basin and said, "Lotus root is sweet in flavor; once cooked, its cold nature turns warm. It nourishes and restores—perfect for An'an. These two sections you broke off are old root, good for stewing soup. An'an will have fish soup at noon; I'll stew the lotus root in the afternoon for her to drink in the evening."

Little White was satisfied and swished its tail back out.

"Little White, where did you get that lotus root?"

Little White pretended not to hear. Zhu Fengqin looked out the window—it had already run off.

Little White had barely left when Wang Hui arrived, carrying a small bamboo basket.

"Auntie Feng, busy?"

"Not too busy. Just bought a crucian carp from the riverside and I'm stewing it into soup."

Wang Hui lifted the hemp cloth covering the basket and said, "I went digging wild greens outside the city with Fifth Granny, and we ran into a few women coming out of the deep mountains. They'd picked morels, so I spent a bit of money and bought them. Cook them for the Young Miss."

Zhu Fengqin looked: "Oh my, only thumb-sized—so tender."

"It hasn't rained these past few days. Even if mushrooms sprout in the deep mountains, they can't grow big. This little half-basket won't even make a full plate once washed. In a few days, when it rains, the purple-flower mushrooms and termite mushrooms in the mountains will slowly multiply. When people bring them into town to sell, we'll buy more—the Young Miss could use a change of flavor too."

Zhu Fengqin laughed: "She's just terribly picky. Everything's either flavorless or not tasty."

"How could her appetite be good when her body feels wrong? Especially eating bland broths and liquids every day. Fufu ate a few meals with the Young Miss and then refused to come back. This morning Fufu went digging wild greens with us and even said it—eating with the Young Miss makes the food lose its taste."

Zhu Fengqin feigned anger: "So that's it! Yesterday I told Fufu to stay for dinner, and the moment I turned around she ran home."

Wang Hui burst out laughing.

Wang Hui still had to go home and make lunch. She emptied the morels from her basket into a basin and prepared to leave with the empty basket. Only then did Zhu Fengqin remember to ask: "How much did these mushrooms cost? I'll pay you."

Wang Hui waved her hand: "It was hardly any money. Giving the Young Miss a dish—how could I take money for that? You carry on; I'm heading home."

"All right then, walk slow."

After Wang Hui left, before the fish soup had simmered white, Zhu Changkun arrived. He'd come to deliver pastries.

"These are fresh out of the steamer—eight-treasure cakes, yam cakes, poria cakes, and brown-sugar jujube-paste cakes. I picked a few of each to make a plate for the Young Miss."

"Oh my, perfect timing. She finished breakfast a while ago; in about half an hour I should wake her to eat something."

Zhu Changkun smiled: "This afternoon I'm planning to try steaming a batch of red date, longan, and walnut cakes."

"A new product to sell?"

"The dates, longans, and walnuts all need peeling, and they have to be steamed and ground into paste—it's a lot of work. On top of that, those ingredients are expensive, so the selling price wouldn't be cheap. I was thinking of making some for the Young Miss to try. If she likes them, I'll steam a batch every few days, and whatever's left over can be sold."

Zhu Fengqin sighed: "You've all worked so hard. An'an falling ill has everyone worrying for her."

Zhu Changkun laughed: "Our pastry shop now has six or seven people working inside and out. Everyone's used to the work—making something extra for the Young Miss takes no effort at all."

This was the pastry shop's busy hour, so after a couple of idle words, Zhu Changkun set down the plate and left.

When the time seemed right, Zhu Fengqin went to the back courtyard, woke Zhu Shi'an, and brought her a bowl of rice broth ladled out while cooking the morning's congee, telling her to eat it with the pastries Zhu Changkun had just delivered.

Yawning, Zhu Shi'an ambled to the little courtyard outside the kitchen. Looking at the pastries laid out on the small table under the peach tree, she had no appetite, and she wandered around the yard instead.

In the kitchen, Zhu Fengqin rattled off to Zhu Shi'an who had come by that morning and what each had brought.

"The morels Wang Hui brought are fresh and tender—you'll definitely love them. Another day I'll go outside the city and try my luck too, pick some mushrooms to cook for you."

"Oh right, you went to bed early last night, so you don't know Zhu Changfeng stopped by. He brought a jin of astragalus wine, said it's Grandpa Fujiang's treasure, better than what our clinic brews. Grandpa Fujiang said once your body improves a bit, you can drink a little every day."

Tired from walking, Zhu Shi'an sat down under the peach tree by the kitchen door. She drank two sips of rice broth first, then picked up a piece of yam cake to eat.

Zhu Fengqin poked her head out the window: "Not good?"

"It's quite good. I just don't have much appetite."

"That's fine. Try the others—a bite or two of each is okay."

Zhu Shi'an really did take only a bite or two of each kind, but she finished the rice broth.

Fed and watered, Zhu Shi'an leaned back half-reclining in the chair. Zhu Fengqin fetched the thin quilt from her room again and draped it over her.

"Does the wind make your head ache?"

"No. The warm breeze feels nice."

Seeing she had no discomfort, Zhu Fengqin went back to work in the kitchen, talking as she worked: "Little White brought me two sections of lotus root just now, and I was wondering where it got them. Then I went to the back garden to pick vegetables, and oh my goodness, guess what I saw—that water jar in the corner was churned into a mess. Two lotus leaves barely palm-sized were torn in half; who knows if they'll survive. You must have a word with Little White later. It's gone too far."

A ghost lived in that water jar—what Little White did was no different from ransacking his home. Bullying the weak wouldn't do.

"I understand. I'll discipline it later."

Today's sunlight was too warm. Zhu Shi'an was talking with Zhu Fengqin, and mid-conversation she drifted off to sleep.

Seeing her asleep, Zhu Fengqin didn't wake her until eleven o'clock: "Go take a turn around the front courtyard. Walk until you're hungry, then come back for lunch."

"Okay."

Zhu Shi'an stood, stretched, and dawdled off toward the front courtyard.

The main residence's back courtyard abutted Yuntai Mountain and was wonderfully quiet. Walking from the back courtyard to the front, then out through the pendant-flower gate, the lively sounds of the alley outside drifted in.

Zhu Shi'an slowly made her way to the main gate and peered through the crack: a vegetable seller carrying a shoulder pole, a woman selling insoles, a scrap collector.

Zhu Shi'an stood watching for a while, satisfied, then headed back. Just inside the pendant-flower gate, a pigeon dropped from the sky into her arms.

"Coo coo~"

Zhu Shi'an pulled a slip of paper from the pigeon's leg, opened it, and smiled: "So you're a pigeon from Wangyun Temple. Wait a moment."

Carrying the pigeon, Zhu Shi'an fetched paper and brush from the front hall cabinet, wrote a note, and tucked it into the little tube on the pigeon's leg.

"Done. Go deliver your message."

"Coo! Coo coo!"

The pigeon refused to fly; its pointed beak kept pecking at Zhu Shi'an. She didn't understand at first, but watching the pigeon peck her hand over and over, she suddenly got it—the bird had flown all this way with a letter and hadn't received its travel fare yet.

Zhu Shi'an stroked its feathers, laughing: "Come on, I'll find you something to eat in the kitchen."

When Zhu Fengqin saw Zhu Shi'an arrive holding a pigeon, one glance told her it was a carrier pigeon. She grabbed a pinch of rice from the cabinet and fed it; only after eating did the pigeon fly off.

"Where'd the pigeon come from? What message?" Zhu Fengqin warned her: "Your biggest job right now is nursing your health. Don't meddle in outside affairs."

Zhu Shi'an laughed: "It's nothing. Master Mingjue told me he's going to Mount Emei tomorrow for a dharma assembly. Round trip will take about half a month."

"If he's going, let him go. Why tell you about it?"

"Just keeping me informed. If something happens at Wangyun Temple, at least they can come to me for an opinion."

In the first month of the year, Wangyun Temple's Vajra Fish had been stolen. After intercepting the thief along the way, they finally caught him at the Shanghai docks—it was Shi Jia.

Presumably that theft had left Master Mingjue jumpy; he hadn't even departed and was already preparing for the Vajra Fish to be stolen again.

Zhu Fengqin was still displeased: "Even if something did happen at their temple, with all those monks unable to solve it, what use would you be? Master Mingjue knows perfectly well you're recuperating. What good does sending you a letter do besides burdening your mind with one more thing to worry about?"

"Auntie Feng, I'm the honorary leader of that action group, still drawing a leader's benefits. We can't just take the perks and lift not a finger."

Zhu Fengqin glared at her: "Is the help you've given small? Don't they owe you that little bit and more?"

Zhu Shi'an shut her mouth. She patted her belly and changed the subject: "Auntie Feng, I'm hungry. What's for lunch?"

"Oh my, hungry! Sit down quick and I'll bring the food. For lunch we're having steamed black rice, fish soup with tofu, boiled river shrimp, and stir-fried greens."

Once the food was on the table, Zhu Shi'an said as she ate: "When can I have a meal with some actual flavor? Could this fish be made into pickled-vegetable fish? The river shrimp into spicy numbing shrimp? At least make the greens with garlic."

Zhu Fengqin peeled a shrimp and tossed it into her bowl: "Shut up. You'll eat what I cook—who said you get to be picky?"

Zhu Shi'an sighed between bites. Annoyed by the sighing, Zhu Fengqin said: "In a few days, all right? In a few days I'll make you stir-fried pork."

Stir-fried pork was acceptable. Zhu Shi'an obediently shut up and ate.

After lunch came Zhu Shi'an's usual stroll to aid digestion—through the back garden to the clinic, and along the way she could check what Little White had done to the lotus in the water jar.

When Zhu Shi'an got there, one of the torn lotus leaves had already wilted in the sun. With no leaf for cover, Wang Erzhu hid at the bottom, not daring to show his face.

Zhu Shi'an said: "Wait for it. Tonight I'll make Little White come apologize to you."

Zhu Shi'an walked on to the clinic, where Sun Guizhen was brewing medicine, watching three pots by herself.

"Can you manage?" Zhu Shi'an asked as she came over.

"Young Miss, you're here."

Without pausing her fanning of the stove, Sun Guizhen smiled: "I can manage. To save a few dimes on brewing fees, most people still prefer to take their herbs home and brew them themselves. I brew at most ten-odd pots a day here—fine as long as they don't all bunch up together. And even if they do, it's all right; Zhu Zheng and Changfang will share the load."

Speak of the devil—Zhu Changfang arrived just then, bringing Sun Guizhen her lunch.

Zhu Changfang greeted Zhu Shi'an with a smile: "How's the Young Miss feeling today?"

"Not bad." Zhu Shi'an asked her: "Last time you went with Zhu Changfeng to Yibin to buy liquor—how did that go?"

"Very well. Though it was privately brewed commune liquor, Changfeng and I both thought it no worse than the big distilleries'. Altogether we bought back over six hundred jin, all made into medicinal wines and stored in the warehouse behind the herb shop."

The Zhu family's herb shop was the largest establishment in Sanqing Lane, since its construction had accounted for transporting herbs, horses coming and going, storage, and so on. Now most of the warehouse still stood empty; storing a few hundred jin of medicinal wine was no trouble at all.

But medicinal wine wasn't made to be stored—it was made to sell. Counting the time: after Zhu Changfeng and Zhu Changfang brought the liquor back and steeped the herbs according to the formulas, several varieties were already ready for use.

"Will the medicinal wine keep?"

Zhu Changfang smiled: "It'll have to keep. If we sold to anyone who asked, six hundred-odd jin would be gone in half a month at most."

For those who ran a clinic, reputation mattered above all.

The Zhu Clinic had been closed for over ten years, and when it reopened, the person in charge had become Zhu Shi'an, a young girl. At first everyone harbored some doubt. But the clinic had now been open more than half a year, and no one doubted the Zhu family's medical skill or the fine herbs the clinic used anymore.

The Zhu family's medicinal wines had long been famous; the old residents of Zhenshan County all knew it. After all these years, the Zhu Clinic was selling medicinal wine again, and those in the know caught wind of it and came running, each wanting to buy extra to stockpile at home against future need.

"Grandpa Shouxin set the rule: no prescription from a doctor, no medicinal wine for the patient. Even rationing sales like this, we've already sold thirty or forty jin these past few days."

"Buy more liquor to stock next time."

"That's our plan. In a few days, when the Song family's boat arrives, we'll take it for another run to Yibin, visit more small distilleries, and try to bring back one or two thousand jin of good liquor."

"That sounds good."

Zhu Changfang took over Sun Guizhen's work, watching the medicine pots so she could eat lunch first.

Zhu Shouguang came in. Seeing Zhu Shi'an, he glared: "What are you doing here? This is exactly the hour for a midday nap. Why aren't you home resting?"

In Chinese medicine, the heart of nurturing life is regulating yin and yang and cultivating body and mind, which means following the rhythms of the body's yin-yang qi and blood. The noon hour is when yang qi is at its peak, when the heart meridian is in command; a midday nap then nourishes the heart qi and balances the body's yin and yang.

Zhu Shi'an smiled at Grandpa Shouguang, turned, and headed back.

Grandpa Shouguang asked Zhu Changfang what they'd been discussing, and Zhu Changfang repeated her idle chat with the Young Miss.

"Telling her is fine. Even if she doesn't come to the clinic often, as the head of the house she should know how the clinic is doing. But don't tell her too much, lest it tax her mind."

"Rest easy, Grandpa Shouguang. We all know."

In just the few days since the Young Miss's return, many who knew of her abilities had come seeking consultations, requesting her by name.

Most of the patients who demanded the Young Miss had stubborn, recurrent conditions that Zhu Shouguang and Zhu Shouxin weren't certain they could cure. So even though these patients were people of no ordinary standing, Zhu Shouguang and the others turned them all away—such matters could not be allowed to delay the Young Miss's recovery.

They had just finished saying that no stray business should be allowed to delay her recuperation when Zhu Zheng, minding the medicine counter in the front hall, came over: "A comrade has arrived who wants our Young Miss to examine him."

"Didn't we say to decline them all? Why come ask?"

Zhu Zheng said: "This one's not easy to turn away. You'd better come see."

The patient was a soldier named Cui Yunhe, of division-commander rank, from the same retired-cadres residence as Division Commander Peng.

Commander Peng was in the residence because he had reached retirement age. Cui Yunhe was only forty-seven this year, in his prime—he lived there because illness had forced his retirement.

Cui Yunhe's right leg had once been wounded by a bullet. After surgery to remove it, the leg was somewhat weak. He had assumed rest would fix it; instead, a few years later, the right leg stopped working altogether.

To cure that leg, he had been to military hospitals at every level. Treatment after treatment brought no improvement, and with no choice he handed over his work and moved into the cadres' residence.

The leadership above said that once his leg healed, he'd be restored to his post. Cui Yunhe knew those were words of comfort; he knew his leg was beyond saving.

After moving in, Cui Yunhe was sunk in despair—who would have thought a turn of fortune would come? He got to know his neighbor, Division Commander Peng.

With his grandson's illness cured, Commander Peng had nothing left to fret over; even his embittered temperament had turned talkative and cheerful.

And so Cui Yunhe heard from Commander Peng about his grandson: how sickly the boy had once been, and look at him now—running, jumping, sent off to school this spring, clever as anything, first in his class on exam after exam.

At first Cui Yunhe paid little mind to the doctor Commander Peng spoke of. After all, building up a child's constitution and treating a ruined leg—no one would connect those two things.

A few days after Commander Peng told him about his grandson, He Zhonghou—a rehired physician at Shanghai People's Hospital and dean of the Shanghai College of Traditional Chinese Medicine—brought his students to give the retired cadres physical examinations, letting the medical students build experience.

He Zhonghou examined Cui Yunhe's leg. He said he had no especially effective treatment, but they could try acupuncture, paired with medicated baths and decoctions.

Cui Yunhe had heard that prescription from many doctors before. He had tried it all. Useless.

That was when He Zhonghou mentioned Zhu Shi'an's name—she had taken first place in that examination of veteran Chinese physicians. Setting aside diagnosis and prescriptions, in acupuncture alone she was likely the very best.

Cui Yunhe paused, then told He Zhonghou that the neighbor Commander Peng's grandson had also been cured by a doctor named Zhu Shi'an. Could building up a constitution and treating a leg be related?

He Zhonghou had smiled: building up the body means treating the whole body; a leg is merely one part of it. Of course it can be treated.

He Zhonghou advised Cui Yunhe to seek out Zhu Shi'an—perhaps she was his last chance.

After He Zhonghou left, Cui Yunhe did as Commander Peng once had, calling in favors and connections to investigate Zhu Shi'an. Everything Commander Peng had learned back then, he now learned too.

Certain that Zhu Shi'an truly had the skill, Cui Yunhe didn't hesitate—he had his youngest son take leave and escort him to Zhenshan County.

Zhu Shouxin and Zhu Shouguang took Cui Yunhe's pulse together, then wheeled He Zhonghou's... wheeled his wheelchair into the rear acupuncture room, had him lie down, and examined his leg. When the examination was done, both men sighed.

Cui Yunhe's leg had been neglected too long. To jolt the meridians of his right leg back to life, ordinary acupuncture wouldn't suffice—it had to be the Young Miss.

Zhu Shouguang laid out Cui Yunhe's condition and the treatment approach, then said: "Since you were willing to travel a thousand li to seek treatment, you must have looked into the Zhu family's affairs. Your illness—our Young Miss should be able to treat it. But—"

Joy had just risen on Cui Yunhe's face when that "but" pressed it back down. Anxious, he asked: "But what?"

"Regrettably, our Young Miss is in poor health and is currently recuperating. She cannot tax her mind to treat you."

Cui Yunhe's son Cui Guodong quickly said: "I know acupuncture—it's just needles. My father's illness shouldn't be hard to treat. Could you ask Doctor Zhu to make an exception?"

Zhu Shouguang shook his head: "If it were as easy as you say, wouldn't finding another doctor near home be more convenient? Why come all the way to us?"

Cui Yunhe stopped his son. He said: "I can wait. I'll wait until Doctor Zhu recovers, then she can treat me."

"Dad!" Cui Guodong said urgently: "What if her recovery takes years? You'll wait here that whole time?"

Cui Yunhe said firmly: "Wait. As long as there's hope, what are a few years?"

Soldiers mostly carry an unbending streak. Once Cui Yunhe made up his mind, he wouldn't change it.

Seeing him like this, Zhu Shouguang told him the truth: "Our Young Miss was seriously injured—she may well need years to recover. This old man isn't lying to you. If you have connections in state security, make inquiries and you should be able to learn what kind of injury our Young Miss suffered."

Cui Yunhe's gaze swept past his son, and he smiled at Zhu Shouguang: "No need for inquiries. Your Zhu family has practiced medicine for generations. I believe that once your Young Miss recovers, she won't stall on treating me."

Those were fine words, and both Zhu Shouxin and Zhu Shouguang looked on Cui Yunhe several degrees more warmly.

Zhu Shouguang had no good remedy for Cui Yunhe's leg, but he could write a prescription for medicated baths and give him a bottle of meridian-opening medicinal wine. The odds of a cure from baths and wine alone were slim—but at least things wouldn't worsen.

Cui Yunhe thanked Zhu Shouguang and sent his son to the counter to collect the medicine and pay. Only then did father and son leave.

Cui Guodong pushed his father back to the guesthouse, and only behind closed doors did he say: "Dad, why don't we go back? If this doctor won't see you, we'll find another. I refuse to believe there's no other capable doctor besides her."

"Guodong, seeking treatment is not something to do out of spite. I've made my decision. Say no more."

Cui Guodong frowned: "Dad, this isn't something you can just decide. I have to go back to work—I can't stay here indefinitely with you."

"When I agreed just now, I'd already thought it through. Stay one more day: find me a place to live in Zhenshan County and someone strong to look after me, then you can go."

"That won't do. I can't leave you alone in this remote little place. Big brother and his wife, and my sister—they'd worry."

"Enough. It's decided! It's still early—go find a room now."

Cui Guodong could do nothing with his father; he went out to run the errands.

Per his father's requirement, the room had to be near Sanqing Lane. Without much effort, Cui Guodong found a rental on North Street—clean, tidy, reasonably spacious.

The family renting it out was surnamed Lan, five people in three rooms. Spacious it wasn't, but by squeezing together they could free up one room to rent for extra income.

Cui Guodong fancied this household for another reason: across the lane lived the Zhang family, with three grown sons. Only the eldest had taken over his father's job; the second and third were returned educated youths who scraped by doing small trades.

Cui Guodong took a liking to the second son, Zhang Jun—the tallest and sturdiest of them. After settling wages with Zhang Jun, Cui Guodong took him to the guesthouse to meet his father.

Cui Yunhe asked the young man his name and how many years of schooling he had.

Zhang Jun smiled: "Hello, sir. I'm Zhang Jun. I more or less finished high school—it's just that my brain isn't too bright, I couldn't test into college, so I stayed home doing odd jobs to feed myself."

Cui Yunhe laughed: "Being able to feed yourself counts as ability."

Zhang Jun smiled sheepishly: "I can't compare with the smart ones. Take the Zhu family—several of my classmates are Zhus, and except for me, they all tested into college. One named Zhu Kangli even got into Renmin University in Beijing."

"The Zhu children are impressive."

Zhang Jun nodded eagerly: "Very impressive. Their family's children are especially good at studying. Most of the college students from our Zhenshan County these past two years tested out of that family."

Zhang Jun was healthy, well-spoken, and knew how to appeal to his audience. Cui Guodong knew his father would approve of him.

It turned out as Cui Guodong expected: once his father had a rough sense of Zhang Jun's character, he told Cui Guodong to leave and had Zhang Jun wheel him to the Lan house.

Cui Guodong said helplessly: "Dad, even if you want to chase me off, wait until tomorrow. It's already mid-afternoon—catching a boat would be awkward."

"Staying one more night is fine. Go buy me daily necessities and deliver them to the Lan house."

"Fine. Then let Zhang Jun wheel you over to see the room. I'll go buy your things now. If you don't like anything, tell me later and we'll exchange it."

Cui Yunhe wasn't a picky man, and once the Lan family learned he was an injured, retired officer who had come to Zhenshan County seeking treatment, they grew warmer still.

When Cui Guodong came back with the purchases and saw his father getting along well with the Lans and Zhang Jun, he too was reassured.

Zhu Shi'an knew nothing of Cui Yunhe settling into Zhenshan County to wait for her treatment—no one told her. Besides, her days were fully occupied with eating, sleeping, and strolling; she had no leisure to concern herself with anything else.

Zhu Shi'an had promised Wang Erzhu she would deal with Little White. That night she didn't sleep early. When darkness fell, she took a bundle of fresh incense and called Little White to the back garden. The moment Little White saw its master standing before the water jar watching it, it knew it had been caught.

Zhu Shi'an said: "Apologize."

Little White drooped its head listlessly and apologized to Wang Erzhu.

Little White lay flat on the ground, while Wang Erzhu, to overwhelm it with presence, deliberately floated high above. Hearing the hateful white snake apologize to him, he was delighted inside.

Little White remembered meals but not beatings. To make the lesson stick, Zhu Shi'an lit a bundle of incense for Wang Erzhu and told Little White: "An apology should carry some sincerity. This incense was meant for you; now it goes to Wang Erzhu. You have no objection, do you?"

Eyes brimming with tears, Little White watched Wang Erzhu frantically inhale the incense that should have been its own, and said against its heart: "No objection."

Zhu Shi'an rapped its head: "A next time, and you lose a month of incense."

Little White's eyes went wide in disbelief. A whole month's incense?

It seemed the lesson had truly stuck. Satisfied, Zhu Shi'an turned back to her room to rest.

Little White whimpered and cried. It decided it would ignore its master for a whole month.

No—half a month. No—ten days. In ten days the master was due to replenish its incense anyway.

Then Little White saw that hateful Wang Erzhu grinning smugly at it, and it couldn't hold back anymore. Wuwu, so sad~

Cui Guodong spent the night at the county guesthouse. The next morning he bought breakfast and went to the Lan house to see his father. Cui Yunhe was getting along splendidly there and told him to go back to work.

Zhang Jun had just finished breakfast and come over. He smiled: "Brother Cui, go on about your business. Uncle Cui is in my care here—rest easy."

Cui Guodong glanced at Zhang Jun. He really was a familiar sort—already calling him "Uncle."

Cui Guodong said to his father: "If anything urgent comes up, you must tell us. Don't hide things and make us worry."

Cui Yunhe found him naggy: "Get going. Your old man only has a bad leg, not a sick brain. I can look after my own affairs."

Unable to argue, Cui Guodong clapped Zhang Jun's shoulder: "Brother Zhang, my father is in your hands. Thank you for the trouble."

Zhang Jun smiled: "You're too kind, Brother Cui."

After Cui Guodong left, the landlady, Sister Lan, said to Cui Yunhe: "That son of yours is quite the filial one—attentive and thorough. Of the three I've raised, if even one could match yours, their father and I would be off to Wangyun Temple burning incense in gratitude."

Cui Yunhe laughed: "Your three children aren't bad either."

Sister Lan shook her head. No comparison—truly none. You see the grown man in the three-year-old; a mother knows what her own children are.

Zhang Jun stood aside, smiling. He sensed that Sister Lan and Uncle Cui weren't talking about the same thing. Sister Lan outwardly praised Brother Cui's filial piety, but it wasn't filial piety she meant—what she envied was that Brother Cui had a good job.

Zhang Jun envied it too.

He couldn't even get into college, while Brother Cui was a university teacher. Worlds apart.

Zhang Jun sighed over it a moment, then let it go. He smiled: "Uncle Cui, the weather's fine today. Shall I wheel you out for a stroll?"

"All right, let's go look around."

In many eyes nowadays, Zhenshan County was a remote old county town, but decades ago it had been an important node on the Tea-Horse Road.

Back then, though small due to the terrain and thinly populated, Zhenshan County was fairly prosperous. And with a great clan like the Zhus willing to step up and take charge, every few years the county organized its wealthy households to donate funds for street repairs.

In recent decades the Zhu family no longer led such efforts, but regular street repair had become custom, and everyone still organized crews to patch things up. So Zhenshan County's streets were all neat flagstone, and Zhang Jun pushing Cui Yunhe's wheelchair along them took little effort.

"Uncle Cui, let's go to Sanqing Lane. If you like pastries, queue at the pastry shop by the lane entrance about now and you might catch a batch fresh from the steamer. And if you like tea, you can take your pastries to the teahouse ahead, order a pot, and have them with your tea."

Zhang Jun added: "All the shops in Sanqing Lane belong to the Zhu family. They're well run—it's the liveliest spot in our county."

"Then let's go see the bustle."

Knowing Cui Yunhe didn't lack money, Zhang Jun didn't bother economizing for him—whatever made him happy.

Cui Yunhe's wish to see Sanqing Lane wasn't really about food; he wanted to learn more about the Zhu family and gather word of their Young Miss.

Zhang Jun pushed Cui Yunhe to Sanqing Lane and pointed at the archway plaque: "The Zhu family once produced a jinshi. My grandfather used to say that this Zhu jinshi served as a first-rank official."

Cui Yunhe's own ancestors had been a scholarly family. Seeing "First-Class Jinshi" written on the archway, he said: "The Zhu family truly excels at scholarship."

As Zhang Jun pushed him deeper in, Cui Yunhe noticed the lane's paving was fine bluestone, far smoother and more even than the streets outside.

A dozen-odd people already queued before the Zhu pastry shop, so Zhang Jun wheeled Cui Yunhe into the line as well.

Several old ladies chatting in the queue turned, saw Cui Yunhe in his wheelchair, and found it novel: "Big brother, where'd you get that contraption? I want one too—when I'm too old to walk, I'll have my children wheel me out."

At forty-seven, Cui Yunhe earned an "Uncle" from Zhang Jun, but in the eyes of these retired old folks he was a young man—"big brother" was courtesy.

Cui Yunhe smiled: "My work unit issued it. I don't know where they're sold."

The granny pressed on: "What unit are you with? Nice benefits."

Cui Yunhe smiled politely and asked: "It's my first day here. Which pastries are good?"

"Oh my, buy anything—whatever you fancy. Nothing from this shop is bad. Look at the boards on the wall: whatever's on sale today has a board up, with the price on it."

As Cui Yunhe studied the pastry boards, a chummy old man asked in nonstandard Mandarin: "Your accent's plainly out-of-town, and your legs aren't well either, I see. You've come to see the Zhu family doctor, haven't you?"

"I have come for treatment—but the doctor I want is unwell herself, so I can only settle in Zhenshan County and wait."

At that, everyone knew exactly which doctor he'd come for.

"Ah, the Young Miss's health has indeed been poor lately. Ever since she came back, plenty of out-of-towners have sought her out, and the elder Zhu doctors turn them all straight away, telling them to find someone else."

Cui Yunhe patted his leg: "I've seen other doctors. All said it can't be cured. That's why I came to Zhenshan County."

"The Young Miss's skill is beyond question. If you have the time to wait, stay in the county—once she's well, your illness is one she surely can cure."

Having said his piece, the old man stopped addressing Cui Yunhe and switched to the local dialect with the other old folks in line, chatting about which patients the Young Miss had treated: children given up for lost whom she'd saved; that woman from Nanjiang County who arrived already at death's door and whom the Young Miss pulled back; and what's-her-name, married for years without conceiving, who took a few packets of the Young Miss's medicine and was pregnant within two months.

Cui Yunhe half-understood what he heard, but one meaning came through clearly: the Young Miss truly was formidable.

"Yam cakes and red bean cakes are out—who wants them?"

"Me, me! A jin of yam cakes and a jin of red bean cakes."

"You go first then; I'm waiting for the eight-treasure cakes."

The old man who had chatted with Cui Yunhe turned back: "Young fellow, what are you buying? You go ahead of me—what I want isn't ready."

"Thank you, sir. Then I'll take two jin of yam cakes."

"Go on up front, then."

The pastry-buying old folks squeezed forward one after another, surrounding Cui Yunhe in their midst; he didn't mind at all.

Dai Qing, passing the pastry shop with several classmates who had come to Zhenshan County with him, suddenly turned back—he thought he'd glimpsed a familiar face.

One classmate asked: "What is it?"

"Nothing. I don't know what pastry that is, but it smells wonderful."

"Shall we buy some? Showing up as guests empty-handed feels wrong."

Dai Qing laughed and patted the big bundle on his back: "How is it empty-handed? These huge packs are all for her. Besides, every shop in this lane is her family's—would I buy pastries from her own house to give her?"

Everyone laughed at that.

Dai Qing had never been to Sanqing Lane, but he knew where Zhu Shi'an lived—her letters to Jian Yi had spelled it out clearly: right beside the Zhu Clinic.

Finding the place, Dai Qing stepped up and knocked.

"Who is it?"

Zhu Fengqin, just home with the groceries, heard the knock, set down the vegetables, and went back to open the door, saying as she went: "The gate's unlatched—just push in. Who's being so formal today, knocking all of a sudden?"

She pulled the door open, saw Dai Qing's smiling face, and burst into laughter: "It's you, Dai Qing! Why have you come? If you're here, is Jian Yi here too?"

Dai Qing smiled and shook his head: "Jian Yi has classes at school."

"Come in, come in." Zhu Fengqin smiled. "Then why aren't you in class?"

"This is an elder Jian Yi and I knew from our sent-down days—Auntie Feng."

Dai Qing's three classmates hurriedly greeted her too.

Zhu Fengqin nodded with a smile: "You've come such a long way—come in, all of you."

After introducing his three classmates to Zhu Fengqin, Dai Qing said: "My classmates and I came as student representatives to survey the railway line that's about to be built. When Jian Yi learned I was coming this way, she had me bring some things to the Young Miss for her."

Zhu Fengqin said delightedly: "Oh, she entrusted you with things? Last time An'an mentioned you and Jian Yi had a falling-out. Made up now?"

Dai Qing sighed and shook his head: "As you know, there's never a time we're not quarreling."

Zhu Fengqin patted his shoulder: "You're both young. Once you grow a few years and learn to be considerate of each other, things will smooth out."

Zhu Shi'an walked out from the back courtyard: "Who's young?"

Hearing her voice, Dai Qing looked over with a smile—and then the smile froze on his face: "What's happened to you?"

The warm weather meant thin clothing, and Zhu Shi'an's slight frame looked painfully skinny. And her face—there wasn't a trace of flesh on it.

Zhu Shi'an put on a breezy front: "My health's been poor lately, but it's fine—a little nursing and I'll recover. Look, these past few days I'm already better than before. Don't you dare tell Jian Yi when you get back. I'm afraid she'll scold me."

Zhu Shi'an feared Jian Yi; Dai Qing feared her more. He said: "Better a dead friend than a dead me—you can wait for her to come scold you herself."

Zhu Shi'an sighed. It seemed she'd have to work harder—at least put some flesh back on her face. Otherwise she feared that shrew Jian Yi would hug her and cry while cursing her out.

Jian Yi was fiercer than even Auntie Feng. She couldn't afford to provoke her.