As winter faded into spring, rain tapped against the earth. As spring turned to summer, wild grass reached for the sky.
Once the plum rain season passed, the weather turned sweltering with startling speed. The muddy paths of the village became choked with flying dust, and the weeds flanking the roads began to grow wantonly, submerging the entirety of Dingweng Village in varying shades of deep and shallow green.
Unbeknownst to anyone, Li Qiao had been at Guoran Residence for two full months.
The villagers had long since grown accustomed to his tall, lean silhouette. Now, whenever they returned from their daily errands, they had one more person to exchange greetings with.
In fact, Qin Jiuye felt that the men, women, young, and old—people she had dealt with for five or six years—were even more enthusiastic when they saw Li Qiao than when they saw her.
She suddenly felt a twinge of regret for setting that three-month deadline.
When she had initially fixed that date, she had relied on her years of medical experience, judging that it would take him at least three months to recover seventy or eighty percent of his strength. By then, she could send him away with a clean break and a light heart.
But she had clearly underestimated his capacity for recovery.
Since entering this niche business, she had treated many so-called martial arts masters—sect leaders and hall masters of various stripes. Even if they only suffered a few blade wounds, they would usually need to convalesce for ten days to a fortnight. Someone with internal and external injuries as severe as his should have been unable to leave his bed for at least a month.
Yet, counting the day or two he spent unconscious, Li Qiao had only stayed in bed for about six or seven days.
After seven days, he began walking around the courtyard. A few days later, he was sitting in the yard with his rusted blade, helping her chop wood. Sometimes, when she and Jinbao were busy in the front pharmacy all day, he would chop wood alone from dawn until dusk.
At first, Qin Jiuye suspected she had become a quack and misdiagnosed him. But every time she changed his bandages and saw those horrific wounds, she knew she hadn't made a mistake.
Aside from the possibility of a naturally robust constitution, there was perhaps another explanation.
She began to quietly study the unknown poison within him. When decocting his medicine, she would subtly alter the formula to test the poison’s reactions. This method carried risks; even though her technique was cautious and her dosages strictly controlled, she was dealing with a toxin, not a common illness. The slightest deviation could trigger a flare-up.
Thus, after giving him his medicine every day, she would carefully observe his reactions, ready to intervene the moment something seemed amiss. Yet, as the days passed, she never saw him show any sign of discomfort. He never asked a single question about the medicine she gave him, acting as though he hadn't noticed the changes at all, nor suffered because of them.
Still, Qin Jiuye had a faint inkling that Li Qiao knew exactly what she was doing.
He knew, yet he said nothing. She didn't know if he was tacitly consenting to her methods or if he simply felt it wasn't the right time to "settle the score."
Qin Jiuye felt a groundless sense of trepidation, but as a physician who always sought to improve her craft, she felt some things had to be pursued even at the risk of a scolding. Besides, for a youth who had yet to avenge his grievances and had been hacked into such a state, wouldn't it be a good thing if she could root out his old poison?
Once she rationalized it, she stopped agonizing and threw herself back into the development of Guoran Residence. From early spring onward, she kept her head down and worked for two months straight.
She wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but over the past fortnight, business at Guoran Residence had indeed improved significantly.
This seemed to coincide with the time Li Qiao started helping out in the pharmacy.
After he had spent half a month chopping wood in the backyard, Qin Jiuye had Jinbao teach him the basics of identifying and weighing herbs, thinking he could help in the front shop after a while.
There were thousands of medicinal ingredients, each with a different form, and some looked remarkably similar. It was better not to recognize them at all than to misidentify them. It had taken years to see results when she taught Jinbao, so Qin Jiuye hadn't held much hope. However, Li Qiao’s performance far exceeded her expectations. He remembered almost everything Jinbao taught him after only one or two repetitions. Even when she intentionally posed difficult problems, he handled them with ease. Aside from being unable to diagnose patients and write prescriptions, he was essentially a second "Jinbao" for Guoran Residence.
Then, she noticed the business suddenly booming. Not only were the people of Dingweng Village coming for consultations, but people from several neighboring villages were also flocking in—especially the aunts, sisters-in-law, and maternal elders. Even elderly grandmothers would hobble in on canes to personally collect their medicine.
At first, she thought the reputation she had built over the years was finally paying off and that Guoran Residence was entering a golden age. But after observing for a few days, she realized these sudden guests weren't truly there for medical treatment.
On days she sent Li Qiao to the back room to decoct medicine, the number of patients dropped significantly. On days she sent him out of the village to gather wood or haul water, the numbers dropped even further.
After a few rounds of this, she understood.
They weren't coming to Guoran Residence for treatment; they were coming to look at the man.
Absurd. Truly absurd.
Was Li Qiao really so handsome and extraordinary that he could startle the heavens? Qin Jiuye didn't think so. But he did look quite different from the other men in the village.
Perhaps rarity made a thing precious; a monk from afar always seemed to chant better.
Qin Jiuye began to rethink her staffing strategy, wondering if she should have Li Qiao do something else.
For instance, collecting debts.
She dug out all the old accounts from the bottom of her trunks and dumped them on him. It took him only a single day to organize them down to the last copper without a single error. Qin Jiuye immediately put debt collection on the agenda.
Li Qiao began managing the accounts while dispensing medicine. At first, he only recovered recent debts, but gradually, he even managed to claw back the "rotten" accounts from eight hundred years ago. Not only that, but almost no one dared to buy medicine on credit anymore. Even Widow Dou didn't have the heart to ask.
It wasn't so much that the customers were afraid to ask for credit, but rather that they didn't want to.
He seemed to possess a natural power that made it hard for people to refuse him. Standing there every day in his coarse cloth apron, he looked as obedient as her own younger brother. Yet, the moment he spoke, he always managed to grasp people's soft spots, and somehow, they couldn't even find it in themselves to get angry.
No one could dislike such a well-mannered, clean-cut youth—except Qin Jiuye.
She always felt there was something slightly "off" about him.
Perhaps it was because he was silent and ruthless when chopping wood, yet he walked with such light steps and spoke so softly. There was a strange coexistence of restraint and leisure in his every movement.
Or perhaps it was because he was so tall, yet the way he bent his waist to listen to Old Lady Wang was far too practiced.
It was too practiced for a youth who supposedly lived by the blade in the hot-blooded world of the martial arts.
She wasn't a fool. If she was going to take in someone of unknown origin with a history of deception, she had to find out more through indirect means. But she had personally told him she didn't want to hear his story, and now it would be awkward to go back and feign a heart-to-heart—and even if they talked, she might not believe him.
So, finally, one day, Qin Jiuye found time to visit Tang Shenyan at Tingfeng Hall. Using a bag of freshly dried flower tea to loosen his tongue, she began to probe: Was there a young demon in the martial world named Li Qiao? Or perhaps a scion of a prestigious family with a deep-seated grudge who used a rusted blade?
Tang Shenyan suspected nothing and talked incessantly from noon until dusk. He said a lot of nonsense, but the conclusion was simple: No.
The name Li Qiao had never been heard of in the martial world, and no famous bladesman used a rusted weapon.
Qin Jiuye finally felt somewhat relieved.
Perhaps he really was just an anonymous youth who had just entered the martial world—unskilled yet arrogant, nearly losing his life for the sake of revenge.
And she, as the manager of Guoran Residence, had simply happened to save him and picked up a nimble, capable treasure of a worker.
Though it may not have been her original intent, Qin Jiuye found herself relying more and more on Li Qiao.
Soon, Li Qiao could no longer be considered a second "Jinbao." His status was rising rapidly; he was practically the "Second Manager" of Guoran Residence.
Compared to him, Jinbao was like a local mutt. He ate leftovers every day, did the most grueling work, and had guarded the house for years, only to be outdone by a cat that had "extorted" its way in halfway through.
No matter how slow Jinbao was, he gradually sensed his predicament. On this day, after the pharmacy closed, he sought out Qin Jiuye without a word.
Qin Jiuye was in the backyard sorting and grading herbs. The sun was about to set, and she wanted to use the last bit of natural light to save on the cost of candles later.
Jinbao stood there for a while. Seeing that she was busy and seemingly ignored him, he finally couldn't help but speak first.
"I say, how long do you plan on keeping him?"
Qin Jiuye didn't look up, remaining bent over her winnowing basket.
"Keeping who?"
Jinbao was dissatisfied. "Who else? Li Qiao."
"Didn't I say? Just three months."
He had thought this "Second Manager" was so well-loved that he might put down roots here. Now that Qin Jiuye had given such a straightforward answer, Jinbao felt a bit awkward instead.
He fidgeted for a moment before quickly reminding her, "Don't forget the Qingyang Fair the day after tomorrow."
Qin Jiuye’s hands paused. She finally looked up.
The Qingyang Fair wasn't an ordinary market; it was essentially a "Ghost Market."
A Ghost Market meant that the stalls held both genuine treasures and many fakes intended to fish in troubled waters. A buyer needed sharp eyes to distinguish between them. But having a keen eye wasn't enough; to snag a desired item, one also needed a silver tongue for bargaining. Many sellers at the Qingyang Fair were old hands who traveled with goods year-round; if they saw a buyer was determined to buy, it became very difficult to lower the price. Therefore, experienced buyers had to know how to "put on a show."
A show required a partner. In previous years, Qin Jiuye’s partner had always been Jinbao.
Though Qin Jiuye was stingy, she loved medicine as much as her own life. Thus, she prepared thoroughly for the Qingyang Fair every year, usually starting to list items and prepare silver two or three days in advance.
But this year, she was uncharacteristically quiet. Or perhaps she had already finished her preparations without letting anyone notice.
Situ Jinbao studied the expression on Qin Jiuye’s face, feeling involuntarily anxious.
Surely this stingy manager wasn't still brooding over that private stash of rice money and planning to skip the fair this year?
Jinbao loved following Qin Jiuye to the Qingyang Fair, but not because he was particularly interested in those strange and exotic things. He just wanted to seize every opportunity to go into the city and, while he was at it, see the second daughter of the Old Fang family on Bobo Street.
Qin Jiuye looked at the shifting expressions on Jinbao’s face and swallowed the words she was about to say.
"I know. We'll talk about it later."
Unwilling to be dismissed like that, Jinbao tried to pester her further. Qin Jiuye brushed him off while standing up to move the sorted herbs into a nearby basket.
The moment she stood up, she froze.
She wasn't sure if it was because the light had grown dim, but she thought she saw Li Qiao’s silhouette flash past the veranda in her peripheral vision. But when she looked up, there was no one there.
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
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丁翁村 | Dingweng Village | The village where the story takes place.
二掌柜 | Second Manager | A title for an assistant manager or second-in-command of a shop.
听风堂 | Tingfeng Hall | Likely an information-gathering or martial arts organization.
唐慎言 | Tang Shenyan | A character associated with Tingfeng Hall.
擎羊集 | Qingyang Fair | A specific market or gathering, described as a "Ghost Market."
鬼市 | Ghost Market | A market that operates at night, often dealing in illicit, rare, or counterfeit goods.
钵钵街 | Bobo Street | A street in the city.
