Zuo Canglang led the remaining sixty thousand troops back to Suye City, abandoning the captured Xiaoquanshan to the arriving Shanrong tribesmen.
There had never been a woman in the Great Yan army. As a sixteen-year-old girl who still retained a hint of childishness, her presence in the ranks made her the constant center of attention. Zuo Canglang was generally good-natured, but in the beginning, some soldiers tried to make trouble by whistling at her. She turned her head, looked at one, and asked, "Was that you?" When the soldier turned pale with fright, she said calmly, "Don't whistle at me in the future. I can whistle too."
With that, she let out a sharp whistle and added, "And I can whistle louder than you."
The crowd erupted in laughter.
By the time they reached Suye City, she had become well-acquainted with the soldiers. They marched by day and sat around campfires at night, roasting meat and drinking wine. The northwestern sands were home to many foxes; the veteran soldiers who knew the terrain would often invite her along to hunt them.
Zuo Canglang’s archery was unerring. Once, she hit a running sand fox from a hundred and twenty paces away, striking it directly in the eye. Even the most skilled archers in the army admitted defeat.
Upon returning to Suye City, Zuo Canglang arranged the camp and began daily drills the following morning. Every day, the sixteen-year-old girl rose early, clad in white robes and light armor, leading tens of thousands of soldiers in thrusting drills or long-distance weighted runs.
Sometimes, she would be drenched in sweat, every bead of it shimmering with light.
Not a few soldiers in the camp harbored feelings for her. The introverted ones watched her secretly, while the extroverted ones showed their favor directly. Standing on the drill grounds, Zuo Canglang scanned the crowd and said, "Today I received several secret love letters from brothers saying they admire me greatly, thinking of me day and night until they lose their appetite."
The soldiers roared with laughter. Those who had sent the letters lowered their heads, not daring to look up. Zuo Canglang said, "There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s only natural for a man to like a woman." As everyone cheered, she smiled and raised a slender hand, pointing at the archery targets. "Let’s set a wager today. Whoever can beat me..." She thought for a moment, then removed the bone thumb ring from her hand. "I will reward them with this ring, and from this day forward, I will remember his name."
The soldiers cheered instantly, stepping forward one after another to try. But how could ordinary soldiers compare to someone like her? They were defeated one by one.
Even in defeat, no one was discouraged; every face was bright with smiles.
Half a month later, Xijing was the first to fight its way into Wuzi, the capital of Yu. The State of Yu was extinguished.
The armies of Xijing, Guzhu, Shanrong, and Tuhe engaged in burning, killing, and looting across the former lands of Yu, beginning a struggle for cities that would last for three years. From Murong Yuan down to the court officials, the Great Yan Empire breathed a sigh of relief. Yuan Xi captured the former ruler of Yu, Daxī Cheng, and the Imperial Uncle, Daxī Qin, escorting them back to the capital.
Murong Yuan was greatly pleased and bestowed rewards upon Wen Qi, Yuan Xi, and other generals. He alone did not mention Zuo Canglang. Wen Qi, naturally, did not mention her either; she remained in the army as an Adjutant.
On the day Wen Qi and Yuan Xi went to Jinyang to receive their titles and rewards, Zuo Canglang was drilling with the soldiers. Suddenly, a messenger arrived on a fast horse: "Adjutant! Someone from Jinyang has sent a letter for you!"
Zuo Canglang was quite surprised. She took the letter and saw "To be opened by Adjutant Zuo" written on it. She tore open the envelope; Murong Yan’s familiar handwriting was bold and vigorous. Before she could even read the contents, the scent of ink reached her heart.
The letter was actually very short, merely saying: "Military pay is meager; this is a small supplement. Adjutant Zuo has worked hard." It was signed with a flamboyant character: *Yan*. Attached were two banknotes for a hundred taels each.
Zuo Canglang’s thumb brushed repeatedly over that character, *Yan*. It turned out that merely touching the word could make one's heart race and blood boil. She couldn't help but let her lips curve into a crescent moon. Looking toward the east, she could not see Jinyang, but her heart was already there.
In the afternoon, just as Zuo Canglang was wondering whether to write a reply to Murong Yan, someone suddenly reported: "Adjutant, a plague is spreading in Daji City! His Majesty has ordered General Wen to take the imperial physicians there. General Wen has ordered General Xu Lang to take three battalions to station outside Daji City and await orders!"
Zuo Canglang was slightly stunned—Great Yan truly faced one wave after another. She asked, "Did General Wen ask me to follow as well?"
The messenger was very familiar with her and spoke the truth: "He did not. But I thought I should come and inform the Adjutant. General Xu has already received the order and is about to depart."
Zuo Canglang nodded, patted his shoulder, and headed out. If it was a plague, perhaps Murong Yan would send Yang Lianting. It would be best for her to go and see.
Traveling from Suye to Daji City, she found soldiers guarding the gates, forbidding anyone from entering or leaving privately.
Xu Lang arranged for the soldiers to camp. By evening, Wen Qi finally arrived at Daji City. Only then did Zuo Canglang enter the city to meet him. Seeing her arrive with Xu Lang, Wen Qi frowned slightly but didn't have the time to worry about it. He said, "The plague is highly contagious. Build temporary shelters outside the city and move the uninfected citizens there for the time being."
Zuo Canglang and Xu Lang acknowledged the order and led the soldiers to build wooden sheds in the western suburbs.
The imperial physicians were all men of high prestige, but they couldn't afford to put on airs here. They began diagnosing the villagers that very day.
Tianping Alley, Deyi Hall.
It was late, and the shop assistants had long since retired. Yang Lianting was flipping through a medical scroll under the lamp when a soft sound came from outside. He rose immediately, only to see Murong Yan walking in. Yang Lianting was startled and hurried to kneel. "My Lord."
Murong Yan glanced at him and said calmly, "Rise."
The two of them stood, and Murong Yan sat at the table. Yang Lianting personally served him tea. Having practiced medicine for years, though he was young, he already possessed a steady aura of confidence. Because he rarely saw the sun, his complexion was exceptionally fair, making him look as elegant as jade.
Murong Yan looked at his hands and asked, "Are you aware of the sudden outbreak of plague in Daji City?"
Yang Lianting replied respectfully, "I only heard of it today. I have heard the symptoms, but I have not yet seen a patient."
Murong Yan said, "You will see them soon. You are in charge of this matter. I want to see a prescription as soon as possible."
Yang Lianting lowered his hands and replied, "Your subordinate obeys."
Murong Yan said slowly, "This may be the only chance in your life; you must grasp it well. Although your medical skills are exquisite, you are young after all, and may not be as experienced as the imperial physicians." Yang Lianting was slightly stunned, not understanding his meaning. Murong Yan continued, "I have found someone who will help you once you reach Daji City. When necessary, you must listen to him."
Yang Lianting was confused, but he still bowed. "Your subordinate obeys."
When Yang Lianting arrived at Daji City, he was three days later than Wen Qi and the others. That night, Zuo Canglang saw the secret signal and rushed into the city, where she found Yang Lianting visiting patients house by house. None of the shop assistants would follow him to this godforsaken place; he had no one else by his side.
Zuo Canglang had no specific duties in the army, so she followed him for the afternoon. After his initial examination of the illness, Yang Lianting prepared a medicinal solution to soak cloth masks for Zuo Canglang to wear, reducing the risk of infection. Zuo Canglang was fearless, accompanying him as he walked throughout the city.
Yang Lianting tried several formulas, but the situation was not ideal. The plague continued to spread at a terrifying speed. Thirty to forty percent of the city was infected.
The epidemic was aggressive. The six imperial physicians brought by Wen Qi did not dare to go deep into the city, only treating a small number of patients in the suburbs. Zuo Canglang accompanied Yang Lianting deep into the city every day; the two youths in the prime of their lives fearlessly entered and exited the danger zones.
Wen Qi felt curious. "You know Physician Yang? Aren't you afraid of catching the disease, going in and out like that?"
Zuo Canglang said, "I simply admire his healer's heart. He didn't have to come."
Wen Qi said, "He didn't have to come, but many things cannot be achieved by passion alone. These six imperial physicians have each developed formulas for treating seasonal epidemics before. They are more experienced."
Zuo Canglang replied, "It is true that many things cannot be achieved by passion alone, but that does not stop me from admiring those who possess it."
Wen Qi was speechless.
Wen Qi would not argue with a young girl, but his words proved prophetic.
Even if Yang Lianting was a genius in medicine, he was young after all. Knowledge and learning can be supplemented by books, but experience cannot. After six or seven days, the epidemic was still not effectively controlled. Murong Yan sent letters almost daily to inquire about the situation.
Finally, one day, a grey-robed old man named Jiang Xing arrived, claiming he was entrusted by Murong Yan to help Yang Lianting develop a prescription. He spoke directly with Yang Lianting. No one knew what the two said in the room, but that afternoon, Yang Lianting did not go into the city.
Zuo Canglang was uneasy. The grey-robed old man seemed to be intentionally avoiding her, which she found suspicious. She sat beside Yang Lianting and asked, "Did the Lord send you a secret letter?"
Yang Lianting said, "Yes."
Zuo Canglang waited a while longer, and seeing that he had no intention of speaking further, she asked, "Not going into the city today?"
Yang Lianting said, "You go. Help me collect blood samples from patients at different stages."
Zuo Canglang reached out to feel his forehead. Seeing he had no fever, she said, "Alright. If you're tired, take a rest. Your eyes have been bloodshot these past two days."
Yang Lianting looked at her, hesitated, and finally said, "I know."
After Zuo Canglang left, Jiang Xing walked out from the inner room and said calmly, "Everything is ready."
Yang Lianting’s lips trembled. After a long time, he changed his clothes and entered the inner room.
Inside, an old man was tied up, currently unconscious. Jiang Xing stripped the old man's clothes. Yang Lianting’s lips were deathly pale; he held a small silver knife in his right hand, gesturing several times but unable to strike. Jiang Xing said, "If you can't do it, I will."
Yang Lianting’s breathing was rapid; he felt as if the air could no longer be absorbed by his lungs.
Jiang Xing grew impatient, snatched the silver knife from his hand, and sliced into the old man's throat. The old man felt nothing. Blood flowed down, caught by a wooden basin beneath the table... Yang Lianting doubled over and suddenly vomited.
Murong Yan had given him a secret order: if all else failed, use living people to test medicine and perform dissections. No matter what, he had to develop a prescription before the imperial physicians to control the plague as quickly as possible. But these were living human beings. He covered his mouth and suddenly rushed out.
In the evening, when Zuo Canglang returned, she felt something was wrong. She asked Jiang Xing, "Where is Yang Lianting? Why is there a smell of blood in the courtyard?"
Jiang Xing was washing his hands. Hearing this, he replied, "Probably slaughtered a sheep? Physician Yang is unwell and said he wanted to lie down for a bit."
Zuo Canglang hurried into the room, fearing Yang Lianting had contracted the plague. On the bed, Yang Lianting was indeed lying down. She stepped forward quickly and asked, "What's wrong?"
Even Yang Lianting’s lips were white, but he forced a smile and said, "I might just be a bit tired from these past few days. It's nothing."
Zuo Canglang worriedly felt his forehead. "Don't you go getting sick now."
Yang Lianting took her hand, his eyes looking as if they were behind a layer of water. After a long time, he said, "I won't."
Zuo Canglang said, "Then you sleep first. Do you want to write a prescription for yourself? I'll have Jiang Xing brew the medicine and then wake you."
Yang Lianting held her hand and said, "Lie with me for a while. I'm cold."
Zuo Canglang said, "Better not. If General Wen sees us, who knows what he'll think."
Yang Lianting then released her hand. Zuo Canglang looked at him, and having no choice, she climbed onto the bed. She reached out to feel his forehead again and said, "Being cold is fine; I've seen that those who catch the disease all have fevers." As she spoke, she actually lay down fully clothed. Yang Lianting leaned his head on her shoulder, and before long, she was truly asleep—she had been running back and forth these days and hadn't slept much.
Yang Lianting closed his eyes and, after a long time, trembled slightly.
From then on, Yang Lianting rarely went into the city. Most of the time, Zuo Canglang was the one running outside, saving him much time. Jiang Xing stayed for three days before finally saying, "Do you still not know how to use a knife? How long are you going to just watch?"
Yang Lianting bit his lip. Jiang Xing sneered, "Come here. Just stop thinking of them as people."
Yang Lianting did not move. Jiang Xing turned around and handed him the blood-dripping knife. "Murong Yan said you only got a chance at life because of a woman. Do you want to rely on others for the rest of your life?"
Yang Lianting froze. Jiang Xing stared into his eyes and asked, "Are your dreams, your ambitions, and your blood feud all to be achieved by others on your behalf? Your companion goes into the city every day for you. Are you going to wait until she also falls ill and you are powerless before you regret it?"
Yang Lianting felt a metallic sweetness in his mouth; his teeth had already bitten his lip until it bled. Jiang Xing said, "Is there no one left of the Yang family?"
Yang Lianting walked over and slowly grasped the knife. The tip pointed downward, blood dripping like pearls.
At that time, Zuo Canglang was leading a squad of soldiers to gather herbs. She could identify common medicinal plants, but she was completely ignorant when it came to medical theory. She could only do whatever Yang Lianting told her to do.
Thus, she recorded the patients' reactions to the medicine daily and collected samples of blood and saliva. Occasionally, fresh corpses were transported to a place designated by Yang Lianting. She also helped with the cremation of other deceased villagers.
There were also tasks like brewing medicine and cooking porridge; she was involved in every bit of physical labor. She was very busy and couldn't keep an eye on Yang Lianting’s side.
Yang Lianting had set up a place outside for handling infected corpses. Besides carrying in the dead, they also brought in living people at different stages of the illness.
One day, Zuo Canglang helped carry a corpse over. Seeing Jiang Xing standing guard outside, she found it strange. "Why aren't you inside helping? Why are you standing guard out here? They're all corpses; are you afraid they'll run away?"
Jiang Xing clearly hadn't expected her to come personally. He couldn't help but show a hint of nervousness, though he forced himself to remain calm. "I can't be of much help, so I came out for some air."
How could Zuo Canglang fail to notice that subtle expression? She looked closely into his eyes and asked, "What happened?"
Jiang Xing swallowed and said, "Nothing. I just came out to breathe."
Zuo Canglang pushed him aside, intending to go in. Jiang Xing hurried to stop her. But how could a mere pharmacist stop her?
Zuo Canglang pushed the door open. The smell of blood in the room was so thick it was suffocating. Yang Lianting was dressed in white, a small silver knife in his hand. He turned to look at Zuo Canglang and asked, "What is it?"
Seeing he was unharmed, Zuo Canglang breathed a sigh of relief and sat down by a makeshift bed. "Jiang Xing was blocking me from coming in; I thought something had happened."
Yang Lianting calmly covered the "corpse's" head on the bed with a white silk cloth, slightly turning his body to block the view. "It's nothing. Go on out. I'll be done in a moment."
Zuo Canglang had no desire to linger; this was not a pleasant place. She reached out and patted Yang Lianting’s shoulder. "Hurry up. We'll go for a drink later."
Yang Lianting said, "Alright."
As she turned to leave, the white silk covering the "corpse" on the bed was slightly lifted by the wind, as if the body were still breathing. Yang Lianting looked down at the still-heaving chest; the diseased organs were exceptionally visible.
Two more days passed like this, and Yang Lianting’s medicine began to show results.
When several early-stage patients slowly stopped coughing blood and began to recover, the six imperial physicians on Wen Qi’s side were stunned. Who could believe that such a ferocious plague would be halted by the hands of a teenage boy?
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