Chapter Thirty-Eight: Returning Spring

“Doctor! Doctor, please save my child!” The woman was clutching a boy of about seven or eight years old in her arms. The child lay there, struggling to breathe, his face flushed red from the effort. At a glance, Wang Ruosheng recognized the signs of a heart condition.

He met the desperate gaze in the child’s eyes, but his own grew distant and cold. Only when the young assistant called his name did Wang Ruosheng come to himself and save the child.

The woman wept as if her child had died. When Wang Ruosheng emerged, she clung to his legs, sobbing, “Doctor, what’s wrong with our Guichun?”

“Don’t worry, please stand up first.” Wang Ruosheng helped her up and said, “The boy’s condition is stable for now, but he suffers from a heart ailment.”

The woman paled with terror, muttering to herself, “I only asked him to wash some clothes… How could he suddenly fall ill with a heart disease?”

She wailed about her misfortune, her cries echoing unanswered, her despair unsettling Wang Ruosheng. He interrupted, “Please, don’t cry. This illness is not without hope.”

“I beg you, save our Guichun. He’s the only son of the Li family.”

Wang Ruosheng helped her up again. “As you know, this illness is difficult to cure…”

She knelt properly, cutting him off, “Whatever it takes, even if we have to sell all we have, we’ll give it to you.”

“Please, don’t be anxious. I haven’t finished.” Wang Ruosheng gently pulled her up again. “Your son’s illness is rare, and the attacks are frequent. Medicine alone may not suffice for such acute episodes.”

Hearing this, the woman’s eyes filled with tears again. Wang Ruosheng gripped her arm to keep her from kneeling once more.

“Therefore, I’d like to keep him here at Ji’an Hall as a young medicine apprentice. What do you think?” His words finally calmed her.

She relaxed, then suddenly knelt again, exclaiming, “Thank you, Doctor Wang, for your immense kindness. Our Li family will never forget your favor!”

By now, Wang Ruosheng was tired of helping her up. He said, “So the boy’s name is Guichun? From today, let him stay here.”

“But…” The woman hesitated. Her son had only just recovered and still needed care. How could she bear to part with him so soon?

Wang Ruosheng lowered his eyes. “You can think it over, but your son’s illness—these attacks come so frequently…”

“Madam! How is our son?”

Soon, the Li family gathered in the hall, and after another round of explanations, there was more weeping and anxiety.

The man gritted his teeth and agreed to Wang Ruosheng’s plan. After seeing the child, they entrusted the matter to Wang Ruosheng.

The boy’s name was Li Guichun. He had delicate features and looked timidly at Wang Ruosheng.

“Guichun—‘All things return to spring, teeming with life’—that’s a wonderful name. Who gave it to you?”

Guichun replied softly, “The village teacher did. He said a name like that brings good fortune…”

Wang Ruosheng chuckled and patted the boy’s head. “The name may be lucky, but your fate has been anything but easy…”

“Savior?” Guichun looked up and asked, “How long do I have left to live?”

Wang Ruosheng sighed. “Call me Doctor Wang. How long you live depends on your fortune.”

Tears welled in Guichun’s eyes. “My mother says I won’t live long…”

“Don’t think such things. Ji’an Hall will take care of you.” Wang Ruosheng smiled again. “Go to sleep now. Tomorrow you’ll begin learning with me. Being a medicine apprentice isn’t easy.”

Guichun knelt in thanks. “Yes, Doctor Wang.”

Doctor Wang hurried back and was curious about the child. “Ruosheng, what’s his story?”

“Father, he has a heart condition.”

Doctor Wang nodded in realization. “You’re keeping him as an apprentice so you can watch over his illness?”

“Exactly,” answered Wang Ruosheng.

“Ha! Good, that’s how Ji Shi Hall should be. But remember, those with heart conditions must never touch cordyceps or lingzhi.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Yu Hualiang returned in haste, clutching an armful of herbs. As he entered, he dropped a stalk, earning a puzzled look from the gatekeeper.

Luckily, Ayu and Mo Cai weren’t in the courtyard. He slipped quietly into the room, just in time to see Cao Zhileng’s poisoning flare up.

He set the herbs on the table and rushed over, only to be grabbed and pulled onto the bed.

Yu Hualiang considered giving him a beating, but seeing him mid-attack, decided to let it go. By the time it passed, Yu Hualiang was nearly frozen stiff.

Shivering under the quilt, he watched as Cao Zhileng inspected the herbs. “These are the ones. Go prepare a medicine pot.”

“Huh? A pot, too?”

Cao Zhileng turned and stared at him without a word, intimidating Yu Hualiang. He was exhausted from the day’s labor, and now he wasn’t even allowed to rest? Dragging his weary body, he went to find a medicine pot.

“Young master, you’re back? Open up and have something to eat. Ayu made old hen soup for you,” Mo Cai called from outside.

Yu Hualiang glanced at Cao Zhileng and whispered, “Will you eat?”

Cao Zhileng shook his head. Yu Hualiang signaled him to hide, then went to open the door.

Seeing Yu Hualiang unharmed, Mo Cai smiled. “Glad you’re alright, young master.”

Yu Hualiang peeked outside. “Where’s Ayu?”

“Ayu’s worried you’re upset, young master.”

Yu Hualiang nodded, took the food, and said, “Mo Cai, can you help me find a medicine pot?”

“A medicine pot? You want to decoct herbs? Give me the prescription, young master; I’ll do it for you.”

Yu Hualiang shook his head. “Don’t ask, just get it for me.”

“Yes, young master.” Mo Cai agreed, but watched Yu Hualiang’s retreating figure with growing curiosity. Usually, his young master wouldn’t dirty his own hands—why was he personally making medicine this time?

Cao Zhileng, at least, didn’t make him brew the medicine. After eating, Yu Hualiang began to feel sleepy, but before he could nap, Cao Zhileng called him up.

Though Yu Hualiang was a thousand times unwilling, one glance at the knife at Cao Zhileng’s waist made him force a smile.

“What is it, brother?”

“Move around. It will help your wound heal faster.”

“What do you mean?” Yu Hualiang was baffled. Hadn’t he moved enough today?

Cao Zhileng didn’t wait for him to respond, just dragged him up, catching Yu Hualiang off guard.

“Wait! Let’s talk this through!” Yu Hualiang panicked, thinking he was about to get beaten just for wanting a post-meal nap.

Instead, Cao Zhileng said seriously, “Your stance is unstable, and your arms lack strength.”

These words were full of disdain for Yu Hualiang’s physical condition, hitting his sore spot. Yu Hualiang couldn’t be bothered to argue.

“Alright,” he replied, shaking off Cao Zhileng’s hand and flopping back onto the bed.

Cao Zhileng, helpless, began to chant.

“When I was a child, I was just like you. My elder brother spared no effort to teach me, and that’s why I am what I am today. If not for his teaching, with my constitution, I wouldn’t have lasted a day after being poisoned so many times.”

Yu Hualiang glanced over, finding him unbearably nagging. Suddenly, he understood why the Monkey King wanted to kill the Tang Monk.

“What do you want, brother?”

Cao Zhileng’s face was expressionless. “If you’re going to steal medicine, you’d better learn some self-defense.”

Yu Hualiang jolted upright, blinking in disbelief. “Are you serious? You’re going to teach me martial arts?”

Cao Zhileng nodded, but eyed Yu Hualiang with skepticism, doubting he was martial arts material. “I can teach you, but whether you master it depends on your own fortune.”

“Haha, sure, sure.” Yu Hualiang grinned, recognizing the familiar lines from martial arts stories.

Cao Zhileng, unimpressed, moved swiftly, grabbing Yu Hualiang’s arm, twisting his shoulder, and hooking his leg—all in one smooth motion. Before Yu Hualiang knew what was happening, he was thrown to the ground.

The strength was no joke, and even holding back, Cao Zhileng left Yu Hualiang aching.

Groaning and rubbing his waist, Yu Hualiang complained, “Why so rough?”

Cao Zhileng criticized, “Your stance is unstable. That was only a tenth of my strength. Any normal man wouldn’t have budged.”

“Huh?” Yu Hualiang rubbed his almost-broken waist, pondering Cao Zhileng’s words. If that was only a tenth of his strength, what would full force be like?

He laughed nervously. “So, you said that was only a tenth of your strength. What’s it like when you use it all?”

Cao Zhileng made no secret of it. He picked up a cup and crushed it to powder with one squeeze.

Yu Hualiang was stunned. He’d only seen such feats in magic tricks. Surely, only the most reclusive martial arts masters could do this for real.

To test it, Yu Hualiang picked up some powder and felt it. It was truly pulverized.

How could that be possible by hand? Unconvinced, he handed Cao Zhileng another cup. Without hesitation, Cao Zhileng crushed it to dust as well. Now Yu Hualiang believed—and grew afraid. If Cao Zhileng ever lost control, wouldn’t his bones end up the same way?

He swallowed. “That’s incredible…”

“I can teach you a trick or two. If Prince Seven ever wants to kill you, you might just escape.”

Yu Hualiang’s heart skipped a beat. “Why would Prince Seven want to kill me?”

“Then do you know why he wants to kill my brother?”

Yu Hualiang had seen enough dramas to understand—Cao Zhileng was just a tool to be discarded once used up. But what about himself? Would Prince Seven discard him, too?

He fell silent. The choices Prince Seven offered were clear: submit, or… die?

The more he thought, the colder his back grew. He looked at Cao Zhileng with determination. “Please, teach me.”

Cao Zhileng regarded him. “Your body is flexible; you don’t need to start with the basics.”

Flexible… body?

Yu Hualiang was bewildered, then suddenly realized, “Wait, are you going to teach me the Art of Bone Shrinking?”

“What is the Art of Bone Shrinking?”

“Never mind…”