While Zhu Qingyu and Gu Zhao were speaking, the two mothers and two young women returned, nimble and efficient—one holding gauze, another carrying medicine, one with a basin of hot water, and the last with the medicine chest.
The room was crowded with men who were only getting in the way. Gu Zhao instructed:
"Everyone else, out. Don't hinder the physician's treatment."
Then, turning to Zhu Qingyu, he said:
"Then we entrust him to you, Miss Zhu. How to treat him is entirely at the physician's discretion."
When a patient's condition is critical, the last thing needed is unstable family members causing a disturbance. It was rare to encounter someone like Minister Gu—decisive and composed. To make the best use of such a person, Zhu Qingyu called out to stop him:
"Minister, please stay. The patient may wake during the procedure. Please have a strong gentleman remain to help hold him down."
Gu Zhao slowed his steps:
"I'll do it."
Just as Zhu Qingyu anticipated, without anesthetic, the excruciating pain of stitching the wound raw jolted Xie Ze awake from his unconscious state. His eyes flew open, he gasped for breath, staring fixedly at Zhu Qingyu, his hand clamping down viselike on her wrist as she sutured.
Seeing the half-stitched wound on the verge of tearing open again from his struggle, Zhu Qingyu looked over, her voice calm and utterly unruffled:
"If you want to live, let go."
Gu Zhao, who had been standing by, stepped forward, pried Xie Ze's hand away, and held him down. Seizing the moment of wakefulness, they poured a bowl of anesthetic down Xie Ze's throat, knocking him out again.
Despite Xie Ze's violent struggle to rise, Zhu Qingyu's hand suturing the wound remained perfectly steady, her eyes not even blinking. Even the two assisting young women continued their tasks—one changing gauze, the other applying pressure to the wound—without a hint of panic.
This composure was truly uncommon, prompting Gu Zhao to glance at her again. He couldn't shake the feeling that when she was healing and saving lives, she seemed completely different from the impression she gave during their first two encounters.
It was only with this extra glance that Gu Zhao realized how close they had gotten while restraining Xie Ze—shoulder to shoulder, robes touching robes.
A wave of inexplicable heat suddenly swept from head to toe, engulfing his entire body. Merely brushing against her clothing caused such a strong reaction—what kind of bewitchment was this, what sort of delusion had he fallen into?
Gu Zhao retreated several steps. For the remainder of the procedure, from the suturing to the application of medicine and bandaging, he did not approach again.
Zhu Qingyu went to wash her hands. Noticing Minister Gu standing far away, his complexion seeming somewhat poor, she said:
"The bleeding has stopped. Please arrange for some people to keep watch over him. In the coming days, I will deliver medicine three times daily and change the dressings every evening. If the gentleman develops a fever in the meantime, you must send for me immediately."
Noticing the blood on his robes, she cautiously asked:
"Minister Gu, are you injured? Would you like me to take a look?"
Gu Zhao glanced at the dark bruise on her wrist left by Xie Ze's grip, then gave her an inscrutable look. Without a word, he pushed the door open and left.
Su Mu, who was tidying up the gauze, felt indignant and muttered:
"What's with that man? Our lady worked so hard to treat and save someone, and he didn't even say thank you. What a waste of such a handsome face."
Xiong Kun had already brought his men in. Zhu Qingyu shot Su Mu a look, signaling her to be quiet.
She repeated the instructions she had given Minister Gu to Xiong Kun, left the treatment room to them, and gathered her own people to leave.
First, she checked on the gatekeeper, Uncle Qi, and finding him unharmed, she called everyone together and instructed:
"Uncle Qi, put up the 'Closed' sign for the next few days. Don't let any unrelated people in. As for their people, let them come and go as they please; don't interfere. Su Mu and Lin Lan, for these few days, move upstairs and stay with me. Remember, don't inquire about or discuss anything that isn't our business."
A second-rank official, the Emperor's own cousin, encountering assassins in Yangzhou City—one didn't need to think hard to imagine the storm this would stir up behind the scenes.
Zhu Qingyu's principle was this: in such a feudal, class-based society, common folk like her were surrounded by people with the legal right to harm them. Therefore, it was best to stay as far away from these high officials and nobles as possible to avoid being implicated in unforeseen disaster.
As for Gu Zhao's attitude—previously quite mild, then suddenly cold and dismissive—it was either because she had somehow offended him, or because he was simply a person of unpredictable moods.
Whichever it was, keeping her distance, staying away, and not provoking him was undoubtedly the right course.
In the following days, Gu Zhao and his guards left early and returned late, leaving only Xiong Kun and a few guards to take turns watching over Xie Ze.
Xie Ze's condition fluctuated. On good days, tired of lying down, he could prop himself up to read a book or even take a few supported steps. On bad days, he ran a high fever all night, or his wound seemed to be healing but ached everywhere, showing no real improvement.
As the weather grew warmer, wounds were prone to infection. In the past, a simple antibiotic would have solved it. But here, with no other choice, Zhu Qingyu had to resort to a homemade method, preparing a garlic extract for Xie Ze three times a day, each batch made fresh.
One afternoon, Zhu Qingyu was distilling the garlic extract in the pharmacy when a shadow fell across the doorway, blocking half the light.
Looking up, she was surprised to see Minister Gu, whom she hadn't encountered in quite some time.
These past few days, whether morning or evening when she delivered medicine to Xie Ze, Minister Gu was never there. Even the consultation fee had been specifically paid by Xiong Kun.
It was obvious, without even asking, that he was deliberately avoiding her.
With such clear avoidance and apparent disdain from the other party, Zhu Qingyu naturally wouldn't impose herself. She had assumed he wouldn't appear until Xie Ze fully recovered, so his arrival was unexpected.
Perhaps he came to inquire about Xie Ze's condition, Zhu Qingyu thought. She gave a polite nod:
"Mr. Xie is already able to get out of bed and walk. Would you like to see him, Minister?"
Gu Zhao stepped inside:
"I came to find you. Xiong Kun said that over these past few days, you charged two taels of silver for the consultation."
Now Zhu Qingyu was genuinely taken aback. Could Minister Gu be here to complain about overcharging? They were both from the Gu family, so why were the Dowager and Madam Gu so generous, while this Minister Gu was so stingy as to quibble over two taels of silver?
If he wanted to argue, she wasn't afraid. Her prices were clearly marked; she had calculated every item and given a detailed list to Xiong Kun.
Zhu Qingyu straightened up, speaking neither humbly nor arrogantly:
"Yes, the fee is two taels. My consultation fee is one hundred copper coins per visit. As it was a night call, the fee is doubled. Because it involved external injuries requiring suturing, an additional five hundred coins were added. That alone amounts to seven hundred coins. As Mr. Xie was severely injured, he required a great deal of my medicine and supplies, occupied my treatment room, and my clinic's business has been disrupted these past few days. Therefore, the total is higher, coming to two taels. I provided a detailed list to Officer Xiong, itemizing every charge. If anything is unclear, you may ask me further."
Gu Zhao listened to her meticulously accounting for every single coin, his eyes taking in her simple cloth robes and wooden hairpin. He did not interrupt her.
For common folk, making a living was hard enough for men, let alone a woman like her.
Only after she finished did Gu Zhao speak:
"A single consultation fee is only a hundred coins, and saving a life with utmost effort earns merely two taels of silver. For such a large clinic, toiling all year round, perhaps it hardly brings in much silver. Madam Zhu, have you ever considered a different way of life? This question may be presumptuous, but it would be utterly irresponsible of me to continue pretending ignorance. Regarding that night, do you need me to take responsibility? My circumstances, I believe you are somewhat aware—at the very least, financially, I would not let you struggle so."
