Chapter 53: The Renowned Doctor Zhu

Lin Zhi traveled all the way back to Shenzhen from Zhenshan County. Because of flight connections, it took him two days just to land in Guangzhou.

Shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over his arm, Lin Zhi hurried out with his luggage bag in his other hand. At the airport entrance, he ducked into a waiting sedan.

The driver hit the gas, and the little car shot out onto the increasingly bustling airport streets.

Going straight from the humid heat outdoors into an air-conditioned car, Lin Zhi sighed in comfort, loosened his tie slightly, and eagerly asked the driver, "Huang-ge, how's the boss's mood these past couple of days?"

Huang Xing shook his head gently. "So-so."

"Because of the chairman's illness?"

"Mm. The chairman coughs at night and can't sleep, and during the day he keeps working nonstop. The boss can't talk him out of it—the grandfather and grandson are at odds right now. Watch what you say when you get back."

Lin Zhi sighed heavily. "They're just going to let it drag on like this?"

"Neither can convince the other, so it drags."

The best-case scenario was that it dragged on until the Shenzhen work reached a stopping point, and only then could the chairman set aside his work to rest and recover. Otherwise, it would drag until the chairman became critically ill and was forcibly hospitalized.

"That Doctor Zhu really won't come?"

"She won't. If you want that doctor to treat you, the chairman would have to go to Zhenshan County himself."

Lin Zhi said, "Sometimes I really don't understand mainlanders. Do they truly care nothing for fame or fortune?"

Huang Xing smiled. "There are those who care about fame and fortune, and naturally those who don't. My grandfather used to say the mainland is vast—there's room for every kind of person. Not like Hong Kong or Singapore, tiny places where, if you don't want to be bullied and want to live a little better, clawing your way up is the only road."

Lin Zhi was a third-generation immigrant, born and raised in Singapore. Though he spoke Chinese, he'd received a Western education and had even studied in England—his thinking was thoroughly Westernized.

Huang Xing was not. He'd smuggled into Hong Kong with his family when he was in his teens. To get him a trade that could feed a family, they saved up to send him to driving school, hoping he'd become a driver.

Back then Huang Xing had been young, hotheaded, and ignorant; he offended the wrong people and had to flee to Southeast Asia to lie low. There he met his current boss, Tan Pingzhang, and finally found a foothold and a stable life. Under the Tan family's protection, only a few years later—just recently, in fact—had he followed the boss back to Hong Kong to visit his family.

Huang Xing reassured him, "As long as you did your work earnestly, even if it didn't succeed, the boss isn't an unreasonable man."

"Ah, before I left I thought this was a sure thing. Who knew it would end up like this."

"Relax."

Lin Zhi shook his head and stopped dwelling on it. "While I was away, did the boss bring in any other doctors to see the chairman?"

"Three old physicians came, the day before yesterday and yesterday. Not much effect."

Lin Zhi sighed. Before even seeing the boss, he could already imagine the dark look on his face.

Leaving the main urban district, the sedan drove south, tires rolling from gravel road onto dirt, the scenery on both sides shifting from farmland to construction sites.

"The Hong Kong people move fast."

"Fast indeed. Barely any time passed between them getting their permits and gathering crews to start construction."

"They're fast, but the chairman and our boss aren't slow either. Commercial housing and factories have all broken ground."

"After the boss swallowed the Ye family's shipping business in Hong Kong, we hold the most ships in Asia. If they want to buy cargo or move goods, they still have to work with our boss. Shipping is the Tan family's foundation—no one can match the boss anytime soon. Our advantage is still huge."

Right after graduating, Lin Zhi had been picked out by the boss and became a member of his secretariat. He felt he had followed the right man—very lucky indeed.

Huang Xing laughed. "Xiao Lin, you've got education and ability. Work well with the boss for a few years, produce results, and if you ever want to jump ship later, plenty of people will fight to have you. Not like me—driving for the boss is all I can do."

"Huang-ge, don't tease me. What ability does a kid barely two years out of school have? The truly capable ones are those around the boss who carry the secretary title while doing a vice president's work. That the boss is even willing to take someone with my meager skills is my good fortune—how would I dare let my mind wander?"

Huang Xing turned and glanced at him. "Since you don't have such thoughts, then deal less with that bunch of Hong Kong people."

Lin Zhi's expression changed instantly. "What do you mean by that, Huang-ge?"

Huang Xing smiled and shook his head. "Don't be nervous. I mean nothing by it—just reminding you not to fall into someone's trap."

The business world was a battlefield—a place where rules applied, and also a place where they didn't.

Those who dared to venture out with their entire fortunes all carried a ruthless streak. If you carelessly let someone grab your weak point, losing both money and life was common enough.

The people around the Tan grandfather and grandson were all trustworthy veterans; only Lin Zhi was young. Huang Xing worried he might carelessly reveal some opening and bring trouble to the boss.

Lin Zhi smiled and probed, "Huang-ge, did you hear something?"

"Truly nothing. Just a word of reminder—treat it as an old man rambling."

Lin Zhi had vaguely heard from other secretaries that the boss had saved Huang Xing's life. Though Huang Xing was a driver, he was absolutely the boss's confidant, and Lin Zhi had to take his words seriously.

Cold sweat broke out all over him. He carefully reviewed everyone he'd dealt with in Shenzhen recently, confirmed he hadn't let slip anything he shouldn't have, and only then relaxed.

"Huang-ge, your reminder is right. We and they are fighting over resources and money in the same place—we should be careful."

Huang Xing smiled. "As long as you don't fault me for being nosy."

"Huang-ge, saying that is treating me like someone who doesn't know better. I can't thank you enough."

That Lin Zhi's family could send him to study in England meant they were somewhat better off than average households.

His family was in the seafood business—not a big operation, but they had a few European clients and shipped goods over several times a year, always chartering Tan family vessels, so there was some business connection. Because of that tie, getting a position at Tan Pingzhang's side had been slightly easier for Lin Zhi than for other competitors.

Growing up watching his father and elder brother do business, Lin Zhi knew how to read a room and understood how the business world worked. But what he knew were small merchants—nothing compared to the great house of Tan.

In his year or two following the boss, he'd seen much of the world and learned many real things. Gradually he came to understand what his father had told him: ordinary people never get to sit as the house; if you're lucky enough to follow the right person, getting a sip of the soup is already good.

No matter how big the Lin family's seafood business grew, it was still just making a living. Families like the Tans were the ones with a seat at the table.

Lin Zhi didn't want to leave the boss and find other work—which meant he had to work even harder.

"We're here."

The sedan stopped before a single-story house. Lin Zhi got out with his luggage. "Thanks, Huang-ge."

Huang Xing smiled faintly and drove off.

There was no decent housing in Shenzhen right now. Until new buildings went up, no matter how big a boss you were, a flat-roofed house next to a massive construction site was as good as it got.

The Tan grandfather and grandson and their staff were all currently living in this little bungalow.

Lin Zhi dropped his things in the dormitory, then went to the back kitchen and called out, "Mei-jie, the boss isn't home?"

"Lin Zhi's back! Your boss isn't here—he went to the construction site first thing in the morning. He left word: you rest half a day today, and he'll assign you work tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mei-jie, got it."

Mei-jie was a cook the Tan family had employed for decades, skilled in southern cuisine. Old Master Tan loved her cooking and brought her along on long trips.

Mei-jie was brewing medicine for the old master. Lin Zhi asked, "How's the chairman?"

Mei-jie sighed. "Same as always. But with the young master inspecting the construction sites in his place, he's been able to rest at home these few days."

She asked him, "That Doctor Zhu—I heard she refused to come?"

"Mm. Her patients are all lined up waiting for her in Zhenshan County. Forget coming to Shenzhen with me—she won't even see the patients at her own doorstep. I heard she's recuperating and can't tax her mind."

"Ah, if that's the case, you can't blame her for refusing to come to Shenzhen."

From Mei-jie's attitude, Lin Zhi could tell the chairman and the boss hadn't taken the matter to heart, and the heart he'd kept suspended the whole journey finally settled.

"Mei-jie, I'm going to take a shower."

"With cold water?"

"Cold water. It's so hot—no need to bother heating water."

"You young men have strong constitutions. Fine, then."

Lin Zhi took clean clothes to the washroom. Mei-jie kept watching over the medicine pot, and after a while, Uncle Liang, the old master's personal attendant, came to ask, "The old master is awake. Is the medicine ready?"

"It's ready. I'll pour it out and let it cool a bit before bringing it over."

"Bring it in ten minutes, then."

"Alright."

Uncle Liang returned to the old master's room. The old master sat at his desk, hunched over, coughing again.

Uncle Liang quickly poured a glass of water and handed it over. "Have some water to ease it."

Old Master Tan took the glass and drank it down in small sips; his throat finally felt a bit better.

"Pingzhang isn't coming back for lunch?"

"No. The young master's secretary said he's inspecting the sites this morning and meeting someone to discuss business this afternoon."

"Discussing what?"

"When you signed for that plot of land, you promised Director Jiang you'd bring in a home appliance production line. The young master has gone to negotiate that."

Old Master Tan was pleased inside, but his face put on a look of disdain. "My affairs need his meddling? I already made the contacts—just confirming contract details and we'd sign. What does he need to barge in for?"

"Listen to yourself. The young master works so diligently to share your burdens because he worries about your health. Any family with such a filial grandson would wake up laughing in their sleep—yet you're the one who's not satisfied."

Old Master Tan couldn't keep a straight face and burst out laughing. "That boy—he's... passable, I suppose."

Uncle Liang joked, "The young master's devotion to you is clear as a mirror in your heart. Even just to spare him worry, you should listen to him, set down your work, and nurse your health."

"How could I not understand what you're saying? But if you don't seize a window of historic opportunity like this, I'd regret today for the rest of my life. Work hard and busy for two years now, and generations of descendants will enjoy the fruits."

"There has to be a limit, though. How much money is enough? Let me say something inauspicious: in this family, it's just you and the young master depending on each other. If anything happened to you, what would become of him?"

Old Master Tan glared at him. "You're lobbying for him again. How much did that boy pay you?"

Uncle Liang laughed. "Your good health is the greatest benefit I could get. If you were gone, who would I collect my wages from?"

Old Master Tan chuckled. "Then you'd retire. You, Mei-jie, and Ah Wen and the others who've followed me most of my life—I've made arrangements for all of you."

Mei-jie came in carrying the medicine and said, "Don't you be in a hurry to die. I can still walk and move, and I plan to work another ten years. Who knows—I might even help the young master raise his children someday."

Old Master Tan brightened at once. Pingzhang's children—he'd like to see them too.

Mei-jie set the medicine before him. "If you want to help raise grandchildren, then take care of your body. Once you're dead, there's nothing left."

Old Master Tan lifted the bowl and downed it in one go; the bitterness made him scrunch his face, and he quickly drank half a glass of water to wash it down.

Recovering, he said to Mei-jie, "My fault. I shouldn't have called you over. If you'd stayed in Singapore, you could pick up your grandson from school after work."

"Not your fault. Even if you hadn't asked, I'd have followed you anyway. Before my father died, he took my hand and made me promise to go see Nanjing in his place."

Mei-jie's ancestral home was Nanjing; her family had been cooks for generations. During the wars they fled to Shanghai, then took a ship to Southeast Asia.

The year after ten-year-old Mei-jie arrived in Singapore with her parents, news of the Nanjing massacre reached Singapore. Her father wept uncontrollably; he said his life's greatest wish was to see his hometown again.

Sadly, he never lived to see that day—he died of illness a few years later.

Mei-jie was only in her teens then. If the Tan family hadn't been willing to employ her and her mother, who knew how hard life would have been.

Old Master Tan sighed. "Is your family moving the graves?"

"Definitely moving them back. My parents both said while alive that they wanted to be buried in the ancestral plot, lying together with the old ancestors."

"Are there still relatives in your hometown?"

"I visited before the New Year. There's a cousin in the countryside—his three sons all work as cooks at the People's Restaurant, so the Mei family cooking craft carries on, in a way."

"Good that someone's still alive back home. Whenever you want to move the graves, tell me, and I'll arrange a ship for you."

Mei-jie nodded. "Thank you for looking after our family all these years."

"We're all our own people. Looking after each other abroad is only right."

Old Master Tan held deep affection for his native land, and naturally an extra measure of warmth for those who came from it. Over the years, any Chinese who came to the Tan family for help—if he could help, he did his utmost.

It was this deep devotion to the homeland that gathered around the Tan family a band of their own people, loyally following them to build this great enterprise in Southeast Asia.

Times change, but some things don't. Those who built their fortunes roaming the rivers and lakes with the help of brothers—in all things, they can never escape the two words: sentiment and reason.

Song Weiguo was ambushed by a hidden gunman. The first shot struck his left chest; when the second shot came, someone beside him tackled him out of the way. His brothers shielded him behind the cargo on deck. Song Weiguo clutched his chest, his lips white.

Huzi roared, "Damn it, find that man for me! I'm going to hack him to pieces!"

The brothers on Song Weiguo's boat and their people on the dock sprang into action—some hunting the shooter, some calling for a doctor. Boat and dock dissolved into chaos.

"Song-ge, hold on, don't you die—the doctor's coming!"

"Has that bastard been caught yet?"

"Song-ge, where are you hit? Song-ge, say something!"

"The doctor's here—make way!"

Seeing Song Weiguo clutching his chest, the doctor hurriedly asked, "Hit in the chest? This is bad, bad! I'm a Chinese medicine practitioner—I can't treat this! Quick, run to the hospital and fetch a Western doctor who can operate."

"Wait a moment." Song Weiguo's eldest nephew, Song Chengjun, looked at his uncle's pale face and said, "Little Uncle, why aren't you bleeding?"

"Right—why isn't Song-ge bleeding?"

"Song-ge, move your hand and let the doctor look."

Song Weiguo came back to himself. He felt it—the spot on his left chest where he'd been hit hurt, but not that much.

He moved his hand and found he had been clutching the whistle hanging around his neck—and the peace talisman.

Song Weiguo now commanded five boats. Every time they departed a dock, he'd blow three long blasts on the whistle to tell the brothers it was time to board. He used it constantly, so he always wore it around his neck.

The ambusher's first shot had struck the whistle—and the peace talisman padded behind it.

"Strange—the iron whistle got punched clean through, yet this red-cloth-wrapped talisman of yours didn't?"

Removing the whistle and talisman, they found on Song Weiguo's chest a thumb-sized bruise, black shading into purple.

Song Chengjun picked up a bullet from where Song Weiguo had been standing. "Little Uncle, is this the bullet that hit you?"

They matched the bullet against the whistle's position and size—it really was the one.

The old doctor exclaimed "strange" several times, and finally said, "You truly have some luck—to survive this, heaven must be watching over you."

Song Weiguo immediately recalled how, days ago when leaving Zhenshan County, the Zhu family's eldest daughter had warned him of a bloody calamity. He couldn't help a chill of belated fear.

Looking again at the talisman she'd given him—it hadn't been pierced by the bullet, but it had burned to ash. It had taken the calamity for him!

"Little Uncle!"

Song Weiguo quickly shot his agitated nephew a look, telling him to keep quiet.

Seeing Song Weiguo was fine, the doctor gave him a bottle of medicinal wine for bruises. "Rub it on yourself. Nothing serious."

Nothing serious on Song Weiguo's side—but the ambusher, once caught, was in serious trouble. If the police hadn't arrived quickly, that fellow wouldn't have escaped death.

The police pulled the shooter out from under the punches and kicks, shouting, "Killing a man means paying with your life! Don't get yourselves in trouble in the heat of the moment!"

"Trouble my ass! He fires a sneak shot and you don't care, but you care about us? Are you reasonable at all? Whose side are you on? Bullying outsiders, is that it?"

Several officers and the shooter were surrounded in the middle of a mob. The leader, Huzi, sneered, "You said murderers pay with their lives. This punk shot my brother dead. If you don't beat him to death today to pay for my brother's life, this isn't over—tell your whole family to wash their necks and wait for Grandpa Huzi to come calling!"

The officers' faces grew grave. The highest-ranking one, Deputy Director Zuo, hurried to persuade them: "If he killed someone, the law will sentence him. Stand back first—come to the station with us, and we can sit down and talk. Alright?"

"No! Is this how you handle things? Oh, so a murderer's life is a life, but my brother's life isn't?"

"Hand that punk over. We'll handle what comes after—you don't need to concern yourselves."

Just as the scene was about to explode into violence, Song Weiguo came over. "Huzi. Everyone, stand down."

Huzi turned, eyes wide. "Boss, you weren't shot dead?"

Song Weiguo grunted. "Good luck, I guess."

Seeing the man was unharmed, Deputy Director Zuo also breathed easier and quickly said, "Don't crowd around, everyone disperse."

No one moved. Huzi laughed coldly. "What—because my boss got lucky and survived, this punk is innocent now?"

"Of course he's guilty. But you can't carry out vigilante justice. The law must sentence him."

"What law? Tell me, I'd like to hear it."

Song Weiguo pulled Huzi aside and signaled the other brothers with his eyes. "Stand down for now. We'll talk at the police station."

Only then did the crowd slowly open a path, glaring viciously at the shooter.

The officers quickly dragged out the half-conscious, beaten man. The gun was still in his pocket—witnesses and evidence, as complete as could be.

Seeing the wound on Song Weiguo's chest, Deputy Director Zuo marveled at his luck. "Rest assured, brother, we'll investigate quickly and give you an answer."

Song Weiguo smiled. "I nearly lost my life—I won't leave without an answer. I don't know this man; what grudge could he have that he had to kill me? And where did his gun come from? I expect you to investigate it all. If this ends up muddled, don't bother lecturing me about principles—I'll take my complaint to Beijing."

Since the eldest daughter had said he'd made an enemy, if he didn't root out whoever was behind this, he wouldn't eat or sleep in peace.

Deputy Director Zuo said earnestly, "Rest assured. We'll seek truth from facts."

The case actually wasn't hard to crack—the shooter had been scared witless, and one slam of the table from the police had him confessing everything.

The shooter was a gambling addict who'd borrowed loan-shark money he couldn't repay; his creditors told him to do one job—kill Song Weiguo.

The people who wanted Song Weiguo dead knew him—they'd even sat at the same table negotiating business. Song Weiguo even remembered the talks going quite pleasantly.

The two sides had never so much as quarreled. They wanted him dead not over personal enmity, but business.

In their view, Song Weiguo had poached across the line—a Chongqing man coming to their turf to do business without "paying respects at the dock." Naturally they'd teach him a lesson, using him as an example for other outsiders coming to trade locally.

Song Weiguo asked Deputy Director Zuo, "How will this be sentenced?"

"That's not up to me. It has to be reported upward."

Since reform and opening, commerce and industry had flourished everywhere—and flourishing alongside them were the criminal forces entrenched in each locality. The higher-ups were watching closely; a severe crackdown was certain.

Deputy Director Zuo said, "This is New China now, not the old society. The old ways of your boat guilds and Green Gang societies don't work anymore—we all answer to the state now."

Song Weiguo shook his head. "I'm just a farmer who recently started doing business. I don't know anything about boat guilds or the Green Gang."

Deputy Director Zuo smiled. "We're not from the same province, but Wushan County isn't far from here. I know your family—a family that follows the rules. I hope you keep following the rules and don't make things hard for us."

"You're too kind."

That was as far as the conversation needed to go. Song Weiguo still had goods to deliver and couldn't afford delays; he told Deputy Director Zuo he'd come back after his return trip.

Walking out of the police station, a gust of wind blew past; his bruised chest stung faintly. No whistle, no talisman at his neck—the emptiness left him feeling insecure.

Back on the boat, Song Chengjun rushed to ask, "Little Uncle, how'd it go? How will that punk be sentenced?"

"The local police can't decide—it has to go up the chain. We'll come back and ask after this run."

Huzi said, "Then we'll wait till we're back. If they dare fob us off, we'll take revenge ourselves."

Song Weiguo smiled and patted Huzi's shoulder. "If you hadn't tackled me that day, I'd be dead. You saved my life."

"Why say that, boss? Back when my family couldn't put food on the table and I mooched meals off you every day, I never spouted such mushy pleasantries."

Many of the brothers who'd mooched off Song Weiguo in the old days laughed.

"Separate accounts for separate matters." Song Weiguo pointed at the boat beneath their feet and said to Huzi, "This boat is yours from now on."

Huzi shook his head like a rattle-drum. "I don't want it."

"Take it when it's given. You know me—I don't say empty words."

Song Weiguo gave Huzi a boat, and he didn't shortchange the other brothers who'd helped either: the profits from this cargo run were split evenly among them all.

Having thanked his brothers, the matter was half settled in Song Weiguo's heart. The other half would only be settled when he went to Zhenshan County to thank the Zhu family's eldest daughter.

That evening, while rubbing medicinal wine on himself, Song Weiguo asked his nephew Song Chengjun, "Are you scared, running boats with me?"

"I'm not scared." Song Chengjun said, "Little Uncle, don't use this as another excuse to talk me into going back to school—I don't want to hear it."

Song Weiguo laughed. "Your father started as a soldier, then transferred to civilian police work. And you—neither studying nor soldiering—following a self-employed man like me through wind and rain every day. No regrets?"

Song Chengjun shook his head. "No regrets. I was never cut out for books. As for the army, I can't stand the constraints. Running boats with you suits me best. I'm not afraid of hard work, and I'm not afraid of danger."

"Your two elder uncles died young and left no children. By age, you're the eldest grandson of our family—you should be the one leading your younger brothers and sisters."

Song Chengjun grinned. "Our Song family made its start running boats. For the eldest grandson to run boats too—isn't that perfectly inheriting the ancestral trade?"

Song Weiguo couldn't sway the nephew. It seemed his elder brother's plan—to let the boy suffer on the boats until he willingly went back to school—was dead in the water.

Song Weiguo stopped being disagreeable. "If you're set on doing this with me, then later I'll take you to Zhenshan County to meet the Zhu family's eldest daughter."

At the mention of her, Song Chengjun perked right up. "Little Uncle, could you ask her for a peace talisman for me?"

"You want one? I want one too! Is that something you get just by asking?"

"Just ask. That talisman really does keep you safe."

Song Weiguo said, "Finish this run first. We'll talk when we're back."

The final destination of this trip was Shanghai. After delivering the cargo there, they'd load another shipment for the return, and by the time they came back round, it was already mid-July, the height of summer.

Summer vacation. The moment vacation started, Zhu Shi'an began to worry—she feared Jian Yi really would ride half a month of trains and boats just to come scold her.

Zhu Shi'an waited anxiously for half a month. Jian Yi didn't come—she'd been chosen by her school as a student representative to visit Shenzhen.

Zhu Shi'an pressed her palms together, thanking the leadership for announcing the special economic zone news at just this moment, letting her recuperate in peace.

Jian Yi didn't come in person, but her phone calls were plentiful—she ranked first in the call log.

Still, as long as she wasn't physically present, being nagged a little was no big deal. Besides, after nagging her, Jian Yi still mailed her good things every so often—consider it the price of receiving gifts.

Zhu Shi'an beamed.

Jian Yi wasn't coming, but plenty of others made their way to Zhenshan County that summer.

With school out, Division Commander Peng and his wife, Elder Sister Dong, brought their grandson Chuanchuan to Zhenshan County—not for medical treatment this time, but to spend the summer.

Commander Peng had asked He Zaiming and Lü Wen, the married couple, to help buy a courtyard house in Zhenshan County ahead of time, to make future long stays convenient.

Lü Wen was a capable handler of affairs: she bought from Fifth Granny the courtyard on East Street that had been occupied by squatters—three main rooms plus eight wing rooms on the sides, more than enough for the elderly Peng couple.

That unrecoverable courtyard on East Street had been a thorn in Fifth Granny's heart. Now that it was sold, her mood was beyond good; she spent all day singing Lü Wen's praises in Sanqing Lane.

As for how Lü Wen got those three households out, she didn't care—that was between Lü Wen and the street office. As long as those black-hearted families no longer occupied the house, she was happy.

When the Peng family of three arrived in Zhenshan County, Fifth Granny even made a special trip to East Street to see the courtyard she'd sold.

She came back unhappy—what had they done to her perfectly good courtyard?

To cheer the old lady up, Liu Xin took her to a movie on her Sunday off. The old woman squeezed into the cinema with a crowd of young people, watched a film, and came out grinning again.

Fifth Granny took Liu Xin's hand. "Paid movies really are different from the free outdoor screenings. When Fengqin has time, I'll bring her to the cinema."

"Zhu Lan's been away in Nanjiang County doing business these days, not helping at the main house, and Feng-qin has to look after the eldest daughter—she probably has no free time."

"The eldest daughter is doing better this month than last—not getting tired after two steps like before. I've noticed Fengqin isn't watching over her at home every day like before either; she goes out to buy groceries without rushing back in a panic, and even has time to chat with me. She should be able to squeeze out time for a movie."

"Oh right—the eldest daughter's little disciple came down from the mountain yesterday. Have you seen him?"

Liu Xin shook her head. "I heard the boy doesn't talk much?"

Fifth Granny smiled. "True, he's quiet—an introvert, a well-behaved child. Yesterday I took Fufu to the main house to play and happened to catch him handing out greeting gifts to everyone."

"A little kid handing out greeting gifts?"

"Haha, you wouldn't know—he gave every child a peace talisman, said he drew them himself. The eldest daughter even praised his talismans as good."

The eldest daughter said they were good? Liu Xin said in surprise, "That child is so genuine—giving away good things just like that?"

"That's why she and I ended up mother-in-law and daughter-in-law—I said the same thing at the time. And the child said: we're family, not outsiders."

"Oh, quite the talker."

"Hahaha, he is quite the talker—our eldest daughter taught him well."

After Zhang Jie moved into the main house, it grew lively again. The half-grown children of Sanqing Lane all ran over, eating and drinking while making Zhang Jie perform his skills.

Zhang Jie could now set up a simple Eight Trigrams maze array. Though his formations weren't as infinitely variable or as sturdy as Zhu Shi'an's, they were more than enough for playing with children.

Yingying led Zhu Kangyang, Zhu Kangmin, Fufu, and the other kids charging into the maze—rushing left, dashing right, working themselves dizzy in the little formation.

Zhang Jie sat in a chair under the eaves reading. When he heard Yingying and the others shouting to get out, he'd go into the courtyard and dismiss the formation.

Yingying grabbed Zhang Jie's hand, bouncing with excitement. "I want to learn this! Teach me!"

Fufu chimed in too. "Gege, Fufu wants to learn too!"

Zhang Jie shook his head. "You can't learn it."

"Why? If you could learn it, I definitely can too. Hurry up and teach me!" Yingying refused to accept defeat.

"Quick, quick, teach us!"

"Zhang Jie, pretty please?"

"Does being a teacher mean charging tuition? Wait here—I'll go home and ask my mom for money."

Zhang Jie stopped them. "It's not that I won't teach you—you really can't learn it."

"I don't believe it. Try teaching me first."

So Zhang Jie demonstrated. He formed a hand seal and summoned a gust of wind that made Yingying tilt her head back and stagger a step.

Yingying's eyes shone even brighter. "Let me try!"

Try... it was only a try. Forget a big wind—there wasn't even a breeze.

"Wind, rain, thunder, lightning—wind, come!"

"Heavenly spirits, earthly spirits—summon the Wind Earl!"

"Hurry hurry as the law-lahs!"

"Jee-jee as green-green plums!"

"Obey my command!"

A gaggle of children stomped around the courtyard imitating Zhang Jie's movements, but they couldn't even recite the words properly—just shouting and flailing their arms.

"Eldest Daughter, I'm here!"

Zhu Liang ran in through the gate with his luggage bag. Perhaps the wind from the opening gate blew in—Yingying was overjoyed. "Did my power-working just summon wind?"

Zhang Jie said no.

"It did, it did—look, the tree leaves are moving!" Yingying tugged at Zhang Jie. "Look quick—aren't the leaves moving?"

Zhang Jie said softly, "That's the wind blowing, not your power working."

Yingying refused to concede. "Then I say yours was just wind blowing too. Do it again and show us."

Minmin, Fufu, and the others crowded around.

Little Zhang Jie sighed. "Last time. Don't make me do power-working again."

"Why not?"

"It's tiring. I can only do it two or three times a day."

Zhang Jie stepped the celestial paces, turning in place. His hands formed seals, his lips silently reciting the spell—Yingying and the others leaned in close but couldn't hear a word, catching only the final line: "Quickly, by order of the law! Wind, come!"

A fierce gust swept out from Zhang Jie's direction, blowing Yingying, Fufu, and the rest to either side. Zhu Liang, standing right at the hanging-flower gate facing Zhang Jie, took the blast head-on—his hair, untrimmed for over half a month, stood up strand by strand.

Zhu Liang's eyes went wide. What kind of immortal art was this?

"Waaaah!"

"Zhang Jie, you're amazing!"

Now Yingying and the others stopped clamoring to learn. They really, truly couldn't learn it.

Yingying said, "Zhang Jie, I'm so jealous of you."

"Wrong word. You should say you envy me," Zhang Jie corrected.

"Nope. I'm jealous of you."

As a member of the Zhu family, Zhu Liang had no such talent either, and at that moment he silently said in his heart: I'm so jealous! Why can't the mystical crowd add one more—me!

Zhu Liang actually ran to Zhu Shi'an and asked excitedly, "Does your mystical sect have any marrow-cleansing, essence-washing technique? Something so that after I train it, I could be like your little disciple—recite an incantation and summon wind, rain, thunder, and lightning."

"Marrow-cleansing what?" Zhu Shi'an asked in puzzlement. "Where did you hear that?"

"Jin Yong! You don't know Jin Yong? His books have a manual called the Yijin Jing—train it and you become someone above other men!"

Zhu Shi'an: "..."

Zhu Shi'an turned to ask Zhang Jie, "What did you do?"

"I ran through the wind-summoning technique once. The wind blew onto him."

"Don't display these things in front of others again. Next time, I'll punish you with copying scriptures."

"Oh."

Zhu Liang was frantic. "Eldest Daughter, is there any technique like the Yijin Jing? If there is, you absolutely must teach me!"

"You want to learn a technique and become powerful, is that it?"

"Yes, yes!"

Zhu Shi'an took the Complete Canon of the Medicinal Classic off the cabinet and placed it in his hands. "Young man, memorize this whole set, and I believe you'll become very powerful indeed."

"Eldest Daughter~"

The whine gave Zhu Shi'an goosebumps. "Don't call me that. It gives me the creeps."

Zhu Liang had come joyfully all the way from Shanghai to Zhenshan County for summer vacation, and before enjoying a single good day, Zhu Shi'an had handed him a set of medicinal classics and tossed him to the clinic, telling Grandpa Shouxin and Grandpa Shouguang to teach him well.

Whenever Zhu Liang tried to slack off, Zhu Shi'an would give him a contemptuous look: A member of the Zhu family who knows no Chinese medicine—how could he call himself a Zhu?

Having witnessed Zhu Shi'an's abilities firsthand in Shanghai last year, Zhu Liang was immensely proud of bearing the Zhu surname, and that sentence hit him right in his weak spot.

With one sentence, Zhu Shi'an had Zhu Liang firmly in hand, and he obediently went to work at the clinic.

The clinic's familiar old patients, seeing Zhu Liang, would tease, "Oh, your clinic has another new doctor."

Zhu Liang hurried to say, "I'm not a doctor—I'm still learning."

Zhu Yongwen, fresh from his college entrance exams, grabbed him. "Don't explain. They're teasing you."

The speaker burst out laughing. "Aiyo, the new young man at your clinic is an honest child."

The smile vanished from Zhu Liang's face—"honest child" didn't sound like a compliment.

In the front consultation room, Zhu Shouxin bellowed, "What are you standing there for? Come take this pulse."

Zhu Yongwen and Zhu Liang hurried in. Zhu Yongwen smiled at the patient and deftly felt the pulse, then yielded the spot to Zhu Liang.

Zhu Liang wasn't good at pulse-taking; he hesitantly felt around for a long while, still unsure.

Zhu Shouxin asked Zhu Liang first, "What pulse?"

Zhu Liang hemmed and hawed without making sense. Zhu Shouxin glared at him, then asked Zhu Yongwen, "What illness?"

Zhu Yongwen quickly scanned the case record on the desk and said unhurriedly, "The patient's pulse is faint, thin, and rapid; the tongue is red with little coating. There's also coughing of blood, knee pain, tidal fever, and night sweats. I diagnose yin deficiency of liver and kidney with flaring fire."

"How to treat?"

"The prescription should nourish yin and subdue fire: prepared rehmannia to nourish yin and enrich blood, tortoise shell to anchor yin and calm yang, phellodendron to drain fire and firm yin, anemarrhena to clear and moisten lung and kidney. I believe Da Bu Yin Wan fits the pattern perfectly."

Zhu Shouxin nodded in satisfaction, then asked Zhu Liang, "Got all that?"

Zhu Liang actually hadn't, quite.

Not understanding yet was fine for now. Zhu Shouxin assigned Zhu Yongwen to tutor him—everything else could wait; first memorize the medicinal classics and learn to recognize the common herbs.

Zhu Liang had traveled a thousand miles to get here, and Zhu Shouxin truly wanted to teach him something, so he was strict with him and constantly drilled him.

With a famous teacher's guidance and his own willingness to work, what couldn't be learned?

That was what Zhu Liang told himself.

But his attitude quickly slid from the joy of being valued to the self-pity of mud that wouldn't stick to the wall.

Zhu Liang recalled his parents talking about his childhood attempts at learning Chinese medicine, and he finally understood why his father said he had no talent, and why his mother still pained over the cured pork leg given away as a discipleship gift.

Ah—now he too ached over that pork leg his mother had given away. With his meager talent, what business did he have studying medicine? He couldn't even read the books properly. What a waste of a fine pork leg.

Zhu Yongwen said, "Your foundation in classical Chinese is weak, but that's fine. Once your classical Chinese improves, these medical texts will naturally make sense."

Zhu Liang shook his head frantically. A whole room of books—how long would that take?

"Or you could start by copying texts. Copying is the best way to remember."

Zhu Liang wanted to flee. He'd come to have fun, to spend summer vacation—he didn't want to memorize books or copy texts.

Zhu Liang couldn't escape; he could only toil daily alongside the clinic's apprentices, and only on rest days could he run off to the Zhu clan to play for a day.

Painful as studying medicine was, Zhu Liang admitted that playing with the clan was genuinely fun—what a lively big family.

A few days after Zhu Liang arrived, the Song family came.

The Song family matriarch personally brought Song Weiguo to the Zhu home to deliver a thank-you gift—and this time it was no ordinary trinket bought on the street. What she brought was a ruby headdress set passed down to her from her own mother-in-law.

Who knew how many generations it had passed through—yet when the set was placed in Zhu Shi'an's hands, it still gleamed with luster. That sheen, that craftsmanship—clearly a treasure beyond price.

Zhu Fengqin quickly said, "How many years of friendship between our families? For ordinary gift-giving, whatever you send we'd accept, but such a precious heirloom—we can't possibly take it. Please take it back."

Old Madam Song smiled. "This set is indeed our family heirloom. But however precious it is, in this old woman's heart it's not as precious as my son's life."

Seeing Song Weiguo looking perfectly well, not like someone who'd met disaster, Zhu Fengqin quickly asked, "Did something happen?"

Song Weiguo smiled bitterly. "I was nearly done in by a scheme. Thanks to the Eldest Daughter's warning, I escaped the calamity."

The Zhu family didn't lack such treasures, and even if the Songs didn't have many, they surely had a few. The assembled clan elders, seeing the mother and son sincerely wanted to give it, told Zhu Shi'an to accept.

Zhu Shi'an nodded. "Then I'll accept it."

Having joyfully delivered the gift, Old Madam Song smiled and asked Zhu Shi'an, "Eldest Daughter, look at this son of mine—has the calamity truly passed?"

"It's over."

Old Madam Song sighed in relief at once. Good that it was over. Those three words from the Eldest Daughter made her old woman's trip worthwhile.

"Eldest Daughter, my Weiguo runs about outside all the time and meets all sorts of people from every walk of life—he's bound to run into a few with treachery in their hearts. And he's so dull he can't see it. Ah, it truly worries this old woman."

Having finished disparaging her son, she beamed again. "He'll surely come to Zhenshan County often from now on. If he can occasionally receive a word or two of your guidance, it would be a blessing cultivated over lifetimes."

Zhu Shi'an understood her meaning and smiled. "Your ancestors accumulated hidden virtue, and their descendants are naturally sheltered by it. Even without my pointers, he'll turn misfortune into blessing."

Old Madam Song didn't deal in empty words; her own words were plain and honest. "Compared to ancestors, I trust your words more."

The young men and girls gathered at the front hall's doorway watching the commotion all ducked their heads and laughed.

Zhu Liang's eyes were glued to the carved chest on the table—he longed for another look at the treasure inside.

Zhu Yongwen pulled at him. "Come on, stop gawking. Time for you to memorize your texts."

Zhu Liang's whole body resisted. He didn't want to memorize texts.

Zhu Yongwen hauled him off, brooking no refusal—refuse, and out came the Eldest Daughter's line: Are you or aren't you a Zhu? A Zhu who knows no medicine—how does that work?

"Summer vacation is almost over, right? I think I should head back."

"Vacation isn't even half over—it's early yet. You can go back in mid-August."

Zhu Liang: "...Sigh."

Zhenshan County's summers were hot only for a few midday and afternoon hours; mornings and evenings, fanned by mountain and river breezes, were cool and pleasant.

Shenzhen was different—hot enough to make you want to jump into the sea.

Lin Zhi was organizing project documents in the bungalow when the humming air conditioner suddenly stopped. He quickly tried the light switch.

Sigh. Another power outage.

Lin Zhi sighed, tidied the documents, and went to the boss's office next door.

"Preparatory work on the projects is progressing smoothly, and we'll keep following up on subsequent work. If you and the chairman were away for half a month at this point, there shouldn't be much impact."

The chief secretary was reporting to the boss; Lin Zhi stood at the door without entering.

Tan Pingzhang spotted Lin Zhi and said to him, "Hand off your current work and arrange the itinerary now. Tomorrow my grandfather and I set off for Zhenshan County."

Lin Zhi nodded quickly. "I'll arrange it right away."

Tan Pingzhang and the old man had agreed earlier: once the work here was in order, grandfather and grandson would go to Zhenshan County together for treatment.

Hopefully, this renowned Doctor Zhu truly had the skill to cure his grandfather's chronic ailment.