Chapter 13: The Chief of Medicine

A sense of foreboding crept into Gu Zhuo’s heart. She approached the cabinet of medicinal herbs and opened a drawer—empty. She opened another—empty. She opened yet another—still empty! She stood there, at a loss for words. There was no need to check further; she already knew the rest would be the same.

Yet, despite this, Gu Zhuo found herself more pleased than disappointed. After all, she had not expected to find either herbs or prepared medicines here; these were things she would have to acquire or prepare herself eventually.

But then—what was that?

Her gaze fell upon the table. Behind the apothecary’s scale and a mortar, there seemed to be a book. She walked over and picked it up. It was bound with thread, slim and light as a feather in her hand, yet when opened, the pages within were most unusual—feeling metallic to the touch, yet soft as silk and thin as a cicada’s wing. For all its apparent slenderness, there must have been several hundred pages. Even more remarkable, though the writing was dense, it did not tire the eyes.

Clearly, this was a medical text, a treatise on the processing of herbs and the preparation of medicines. Judging from its content… Gu Zhuo could barely contain her excitement; she closed the book reluctantly.

Had circumstances allowed, she would have devoured its contents right then and there.

What was its title?

She glanced at the cover, where three bold, steady characters proclaimed: The Compendium of Medicine.

The word “Compendium” alone revealed the author’s audacious ambition.

Gu Zhuo had intended to read a little more, but concern over being discovered absent from her room made her set the small box the Medicine Woman had given her in the medicine hut and leave.

She had named the hut herself—the medicine hut.

Although things had not gone exactly as planned, having secured the space as intended eased her greatly. With that relief came the sudden awareness of how sticky and uncomfortable she felt.

She realized that, since her return two days ago, she had not washed, and in the heat of summer, the discomfort was all the more acute.

“Ah Ning, bring me two buckets of well water. I’d like to bathe,” she called out.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and Xie Ning entered, her face full of disapproval. “Sister-in-law, you’re still sick—how can you take a bath?”

Gu Zhuo paused, suddenly recalling that in this era, one dared not bathe while still feverish, not even in the hottest weather.

“How about I heat some water for you, and you can wipe yourself down?” Xie Ning suggested, seeing her silence as disappointment.

Gu Zhuo sighed and nodded. “Very well.”

While Xie Ning boiled water, Gu Zhuo left to watch over Yinyin and prepare something to eat.

There was little rice left, and cooking it would take too long. Gu Zhuo decided to make sweet potato soup for Yinyin—a local snack, simple to make. She would boil sweet potatoes as if making soup, add a pinch of salt, and toss in some garlic leaves at the end.

It sounded like an odd concoction, but when made well, it was quite tasty.

Yinyin, however, was less than pleased. Though still very young, the child remembered all too well the endless sweet potatoes of the previous winter and thus had grown weary of them.

As before, Chen Xinwan returned after dinner was cooked. Unlike at midday, this time she returned with Xie Chong.

Xie Chong hung his head, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. He had wanted to stay away, but since last night he had eaten nothing but that pot of chicken soup, and now he could bear it no longer.

“Sister-in-law… about Yinyin—I’m truly sorry,” he said, eyes reddened with guilt.

Fortunately, his sister-in-law was soft-hearted. If he apologized sincerely, she would forgive him. Not only Xie Chong, but Xie Ning and Chen Xinwan believed this as well. The difference was that Chen Xinwan looked gratified, while Xie Ning seemed displeased.

Gu Zhuo glanced at Xie Chong from beneath her lashes. The young man’s features were gentle, his eyes brimming with sincerity and remorse.

Had she not been reborn, she might have forgiven him, no matter how uncomfortable she felt inside.

But the reality was, she had been reborn.

“I won’t forgive you.” Gu Zhuo’s voice had always been soft and sweet—her parents used to say that even her scoldings sounded like endearments.

Yet, in that moment, everyone present heard the unmistakable resolve in her tone.

Xie Chong was stunned; so was Chen Xinwan. Xie Ning, on the other hand, looked delighted.

For a moment, the room fell into awkward silence. Chen Xinwan instinctively wanted to mediate, but when she met Gu Zhuo’s gaze, the words died on her lips. Xie Chong, left in discomfort, muttered, “Sister-in-law, one should be forgiving. We’re all family. If you’re so petty, where does that leave my eldest brother?”

Gu Zhuo was not one for sharp words. She merely cast him a cold glance.

But Xie Ning could not stand to see him twist the truth. She rolled her eyes and retorted, “Oh, please, Xie Chong. You nearly killed Yinyin—it wasn’t just a little tumble! If we can’t even be upset about this, what can we be upset about?”

“And let’s not forget—Yinyin is eldest brother’s daughter. He’s already gone, and she’s his only blood left in this world. You almost ended that, and yet you think you have a case to make?”

At this, Xie Chong’s face turned ashen. He could not utter a single word in reply.

Even Chen Xinwan felt ill at ease. She admitted she was somewhat partial; after all, her younger son was gentle and dutiful, whereas her eldest, cold and withdrawn, was difficult to love. Still, she did love her eldest son—she had raised him from infancy, unlike the younger, who did not come to her until his teenage years.

Whatever complaints she had harbored in life, now that he was gone, she could remember only the good. The thought that her second son had nearly severed the family line left her speechless.

Gu Zhuo was taken aback. She knew her sister-in-law sided with her—or rather, with Xie Lin—but had not expected her to speak up for her now.

Though Xie Ning was the Xie family’s only descendant, being a girl meant that Chen Xinwan, with her preference for sons, had always overlooked her. Life at home had not been easy for Xie Ning. In Gu Zhuo’s eyes, all her boldness was merely an effort to secure her own place, and that was perfectly reasonable. She was, in truth, a clear-headed and independent girl. For that reason, Gu Zhuo felt that as long as Xie Ning could protect herself, it was enough.

Xie Ning, unaware of these thoughts, stood by her sister-in-law not only for her late brother’s sake but also because it had been Gu Zhuo who insisted she continue her studies in high school. Without her support, with eldest brother away and their mother opposed, she would never have been allowed to go on. As for her second brother—hmm, he was a thorough egoist; unless it benefited him, he would never go against their mother.

Besides, there had been many grievances between them.