Secret Recipe | Chapter 27 | A Calamity of Blood | Novela.app

Chapter 27 - A Calamity of Blood Having finally shaken off that inexplicable charlatan, Qin Jiuye found the sky had already bruised into a deep, twilight purple. The silhouettes of pedestrians on the street grew sparse, and even the broad expanse of Leitian Boulevard, the city’s main artery, was nearly deserted. A few more steps would take her into the southern district toward Shouqi Street. Qin Jiuye paused at the intersection, a flicker of hesitation crossing her mind. Thanks to her instinctive half-step back earlier, her medicine chest had only been dampened at one corner, but half her body was now drenched. In the sweltering, windless humidity of Jiugao City, even a half-soaked garment was enough to make one’s skin crawl with discomfort. If she went to Listening Wind Hall now, she would undoubtedly have to endure Tang Shenyan’s incessant prattle. He would spend the entire evening complaining about the inconvenience of Jinbao staying over. Not to mention that Jinbao only had the one set of ragged clothes he’d been wearing for two days; even if she could charm a spare set out of Old Tang, the man was notoriously slovenly. He had once gone an entire month in the winter without changing his robes. As a physician, she could tolerate poverty, but she could not abide filth. The mere thought of Tang Shenyan’s grease-slicked cuffs and his lapels stained with the remnants of untold meals made the hair on her arms stand on end. No, she had to circle back to Guoran Ju to change. If she left the city now, she wouldn't be able to make it back inside before the gates closed for the night. However, her heart was already drifting toward Guoran Ju. While there, she could prepare two doses of moisture-dispelling medicine for Old Qin to prevent his leg ailments from flaring up during his next stint on the boats. Guoran Ju rarely closed its doors to guests. She wondered if the village regulars had missed her during her day-long absence. Had Dou Wuniang taken advantage of her absence to haggle even more aggressively? Had those little rascals from the herdsman’s family at the edge of the village banded together to sneak into the pharmacy and steal hawthorn pills? And then there was Li Qiao… Qin Jiuye abruptly cut the thought short. *Of all things to think about, why him?* She had only been away for a single day; there was no need for such lingering concern. With the shopkeeper away, he was likely reveling in the peace and quiet. He was probably using that silver tongue of his to charm the village aunts and grandmothers, winning them over with effortless favors before closing up early to wash and sleep, never giving a second thought to her current predicament. Still, it was best to go back and check, lest "the Qin tiger leaves the mountain and the Li monkey declares himself king." Qin Jiuye tightened the straps of the chest on her back and hurried toward Xifeng Gate. *** Though summer had technically arrived and the days were longer, night always seemed to descend earlier at the foot of the mountains. By the time Qin Jiuye stepped onto the dirt path leading back to the village, the horizon had surrendered entirely to darkness. On either side of the winding path, the increasingly lush thickets transformed into jagged shadows of dark blue. Whenever a breeze stirred, they swayed with a slow, rhythmic motion. A city dweller walking this rural road at night would surely have been haunted by tales of ghosts and anomalies, scaring themselves half to death. But Qin Jiuye had traversed this path too many times to count; she didn't even bother lighting a candle, preferring to save the precious oil. In her eyes, the most terrifying specter in this world was a "poor ghost." And she was a poor ghost herself. The air carried a faint, damp scent of churned earth—the harbinger of rain. Summer rains were unlike the lingering, drizzling mists of spring; they tended to arrive with sudden, violent intensity, pouring throughout the night only to leave a clear sky by dawn. She had left some Prunella grass drying on the veranda a few days ago and hadn't brought it in yet. A light drizzle would be fine, but if the downpour turned heavy, the herbs would be ruined by the damp. Jinbao might remember to bring them in if he were at Guoran Ju, but Li Qiao was a novice; she couldn't rely on him for such details. At this thought, her pace quickened, her worn shoes kicking up plumes of dust on the country road. Tonight, Dingweng Village seemed no different than usual, remaining its familiar, muddy, and dilapidated self. Yet, Guoran Ju felt exceptionally quiet—so quiet that the rolling thunder brewing within the distant clouds was audible with startling clarity. *Patter. Patter.* Raindrops began to fall in a sparse, rhythmic cadence. Qin Jiuye came to a halt before her own courtyard gate. The old brushwood gate was pulled shut, but the Door God painting—already half-torn—had fallen off completely. It lay somewhat desolately upon the stone slab in front of the door. This gate had seen many years; its hinges were fragile with age. Whenever she entered or exited, she made a conscious effort to move with gentleness. She had strictly instructed Jinbao and Li Qiao to do the same. Replacing a pair of good hinges cost silver, and whoever broke the door would be the one to pay. Consequently, even though the Door God had been peeling for ages, it had never fully detached. Unless the last person to enter the courtyard had forgotten her warning and used far more force than usual to slam the gate. Or… unless an outsider had entered. A sudden storm always brought wind; perhaps a strong gust had simply blown the flimsy paper away. Or perhaps the Door God’s "time had come," and it truly was time for a new pair. Qin Jiuye instinctively sought trivial explanations for the scene before her. It wasn't her fault; she was naturally cautious, and Guoran Ju hadn't seen trouble in a long time. What could possibly happen? Perhaps her grandfather had stopped by to see her after leaving the Su Manor this morning and had been in such a hurry that he’d been careless. As she ruminated, she reached out to feel for the iron latch behind the door. The moment her fingers brushed the rough wood, she felt a strange stickiness. Looking down, she saw a blurred smudge of red on her fingertips in the dim light. The gate wasn't locked. With a slight nudge, it creaked open halfway. The rain intensified, turning into a dense curtain of pearls within moments. Her half-dry clothes were instantly soaked through again, clinging to her body like a suffocating second skin. The last shred of denial in her heart shattered. Qin Jiuye swallowed hard and looked up. Behind the weathered gate, the courtyard was a void of darkness. Not a single silhouette moved; the silence was deathly. Had mountain bandits raided the village? Or had she offended someone she shouldn't have at Baoshen Pavilion, leading the Bai family to her door? Or perhaps something had gone wrong with one of the patients she had treated… Panic began to set in. She wanted to turn and run, to scream for help. But in this desolate wilderness, the houses were spaced far apart, and the villagers bolted their doors at nightfall. Even if she screamed until her throat was raw, few would come to her rescue. Moreover, her humble pharmacy held nothing of value—except for the silver she had hidden under the stove. *The silver for the courtyard!* Fear was instantly eclipsed by fury. If the money she had painstakingly saved was to benefit some intruder, she would rather fight to her last breath than flee. Summoning a sudden, reckless courage, Qin Jiuye shoved the gate open and charged into the courtyard. The rain grew heavier, the drops cratering the fine sand of the yard. She looked at the puddles forming in those hollows, and for some reason, her mind flashed back to the dark stains she had glimpsed on the flagstones of Sangma Street. Rain could wash away many traces, including red ones. Everything within her sight was a chaotic blur of falling water. She could distinguish nothing. But as she raised her head, her frantic steps slowed to a crawl. On the weathered wooden pillar before the veranda, there was a palm print. A dark red, bloody palm print. When the blood had been on the gate, she could comfort herself with the thought that the villain might not have entered. But with a mark on the porch, the intruder was certainly inside Guoran Ju. She didn't know if they were still in the house or if they had already departed. However, the presence of blood suggested the intruder might be injured. She wasn't entirely without a chance. A medicinal shovel lay on the veranda. Qin Jiuye snatched it up, gripping it tightly. Feeling it wasn't enough, she retreated a few steps to pick up a winnowing basket, holding it before her chest like a shield. Only then did she creep toward the small kitchen in the eastern wing where her silver was hidden. A crack of lightning split the sky behind her, illuminating the ground a few paces ahead. There was a trail of watery footprints. Holding her breath, she moved forward, hesitating between maintaining silence and calling out for her own people. The rain was a cacophony, yet the interior of the eastern room was terrifyingly still. No one seemed to be there. Only a few shriveled cloves of garlic suspended from the rafters swayed in the wind blowing through the doorway. A candle sat on the stove against the wall, but to reach it, she would have to step fully into the darkness. Qin Jiuye tightened her grip on her makeshift weapons. For some reason, her mind drifted back to the scenes within Baoshen Pavilion. As if possessed, she tentatively whispered a name. "Li Qiao?" The room remained a black void. Her eyes were useless; she could only strain her ears. In the darkness, there seemed to be a faint sound. However, her ears were filled with the white noise of the storm, which threatened to swallow any subtle movement. She couldn't be sure if it was just the sound of her own racing heart and the rush of blood in her temples. She took another step forward, half her body submerged in the gloom. "Li Qiao, are you there…?" This time, she finally heard it. From a dark corner of the room, a heavy, ragged wheezing echoed faintly, like a ghost whispering in the shadows. Someone was in the room. Qin Jiuye’s heart skipped a beat. Just as her trembling legs prepared to retreat, the sound of splashing water erupted from the water vat in the corner. In the next instant, a wave of moisture mixed with a familiar scent lunged from behind her. A damp, heavy body collapsed against her. "It's me." *** Li Qiao was struggling within a boundless, bottomless darkness. His perception had been shredded by pain and searing heat; the world had capsized in his eyes. He could no longer remember how he had carved his way through the encirclement or how he had stumbled out of that alleyway. He only remembered the twilight casting a blood-red hue over his vision as he fled the city in a daze, walking step by step back to the village, back to this dilapidated courtyard. He was merely following instinct, seeking a sanctuary, and this was the only place he could go. Thirst. He was so thirsty. He had never felt a thirst this agonizing. Deep in his throat, there seemed to be a bottomless well, and at its base was nothing but parched yellow sand. He had plunged his head into the water vat in the corner. The icy water soaked his chest, yet it could not extinguish the persistent burning sensation within him. After an unknown amount of time, he heard someone calling his name. His flickering gaze could not focus in the darkness, but his hearing became preternaturally sharp. *Thump. Thump. Thump.* What was that sound? She called out again, her voice taut with an irrepressible fear. He heard it clearly then—it was the sound of blood rushing through the vessels in her neck. Fear was driving her chest to compress her heart, sending rich, vibrant blood into every vein. Warm, moist blood. He felt the well deep in his throat suddenly erupt with a piercing shriek. Countless grains of sand seemed to boil, surging upward, abrading every inch of his bones and sinews, subjecting his entire body to a torment like fire. He needed that fresh, hot red to quench this drought. "Hey? What's wrong with you? Why aren't you speaking?" The light reflected from the rain danced across her face like shards of a broken mirror. Qin Jiuye anxiously patted the cheek of the man before her, nearly unable to resist slapping him. The temperature beneath her palm was terrifyingly hot. She had seen many patients with fevers, but none in a state like this. The youth’s face was deathly pale, yet his ragged breath was scorching. His pupils were dilated to an alarming size in the candlelight, his gaze fixed on her face as if he had lost all focus. The surroundings were pitch black; she could discern nothing more. Steeling her heart, Qin Jiuye prepared to draw a silver needle from her chest to strike several vital acupoints, but the man finally spoke. "Qin Jiuye…" He suddenly leaned in, slumping against her shoulder as he rasped her name. His voice was so hoarse he sounded like a dying man who had been bedridden for years. She breathed a small sigh of relief, but then, remembering her recent terror, her anger flared. "I’ve only been away for a day, and you already dare to call me by my full name? You haven't even paid back the silver you owe me, and yet you've gone and turned yourself into this wretched state! Why didn't you answer when I called? Why didn't you drop the latch? Skulking around in the dark like a ghost…" Qin Jiuye’s tirade came to an abrupt halt. A strange sensation tickled her neck. She felt something warm gliding across her skin, leaving a wet trail in its wake. It took her a moment to realize what it was. It was his tongue. He was licking her. His movements were slow, punctuated by heavy, rhythmic breaths, like a wild beast tasting the fur of its prey. "Li Qiao!" Qin Jiuye finally panicked. She reached out to push him away, only to find that he was as immovable as a mountain. "Quick… let me go…" A pair of arms wrapped around her head and waist from behind, pinning her in place. She was rendered immobile. Her panic shifted into a primal terror. Qin Jiuye struggled even harder, but in the next heartbeat, a sharp, agonizing pain in her neck instantly sapped her strength. A surge of warmth erupted from her skin. *Gulp. Gulp.* The sound of swallowing, mixed with the youth’s satisfied sigh, echoed in her ear. Gradually, the sound was drowned out by the thunderous pounding of her own heart. Who was it that said she would face a calamity of blood today? To hell with it all. ***