Zhu Qingyu took the prescription written by Physician Liu and glanced over it. Good heavens, it was an impressively long list. She had no idea what illness Old Madam Zhuang was suffering from—one prescription contained more than fifty different ingredients.
Normally, if Zhu Qingyu were to write a prescription, a simple ailment would require only three to five herbs. Even for more complicated conditions, she rarely prescribed more than fifteen ingredients.
The more herbs included, the more expensive the medicine would be. Most of the people who came to her clinic were ordinary folk with little spare silver to spare.
Besides, more medicine doesn’t always mean better. Some herbs have conflicting properties, and mixing them carelessly can do more harm than good.
Now Zhu Qingyu understood why Lord Zhuang, despite being a third-rank official, wasn’t exactly wealthy. Just the cost of Old Madam Zhuang’s medicine at Liu’s clinic could easily run into hundreds of taels of silver a year. Over the past couple of years, that sum would have been enough to buy several fine carriages for the Zhuang family.
As Zhu Qingyu studied the prescription, Mrs. Zhuang watched her anxiously.
When Zhu Qingyu finally put down the prescription, Mrs. Zhuang looked at her expectantly.
“Madam Zhang,” she asked, “what do you think?”
Zhu Qingyu sympathized with Mrs. Zhuang. With a large household of over a dozen people, money was tight. Perhaps Mrs. Zhuang had long wanted to try another clinic. But the prescription was from the Imperial Medical Institute’s chief physician, representing the highest medical authority at the time.
And the patient was the elderly matriarch—filial piety was paramount.
As the daughter-in-law, Mrs. Zhuang couldn’t directly tell Old Madam Zhuang that the medicine was too expensive and suggest switching clinics. She could only stall for time.
Among fellow practitioners, honesty was valued. Zhu Qingyu refrained from criticizing Physician Liu’s prescription and instead said to Mrs. Zhuang, “How about I take Old Madam’s pulse and have a look myself?”
Mrs. Zhuang’s face brightened with enthusiasm. She eagerly agreed and immediately sent her maid to ask Old Madam Zhuang’s permission.
The reply came quickly, and soon they moved from Mrs. Zhuang’s room to the old lady’s chamber. As Zhu Qingyu took her pulse, Old Madam Zhuang was a bit embarrassed.
“You came as a guest, and we haven’t even properly entertained you, yet here you are tending to me,” she said.
Zhu Qingyu smiled warmly. “Madam, you’re too polite. I run a clinic in Yangzhou, and seeing patients is my profession. If you were in Yangzhou, I’d thank you for looking after my business. Does the cold or heat make you prone to nighttime wheezing, causing restless sleep?”
Old Madam Zhuang had initially agreed to the examination out of courtesy. After all, Zhu Qingyu was just a wife of a local official, not a formally trained imperial physician. She didn’t know how skilled Zhu Qingyu was, and even if she were talented, how could she compare to the doctors at the Imperial Medical Institute? But hearing Zhu Qingyu’s words, her eyes brightened.
“Yes, it’s an old ailment. The medicine helps ease it, but when I stop taking it, the symptoms return. Can it be cured?” she asked.
Zhu Qingyu smiled gently. “I have an ancestral prescription I once gave to the elderly lady of the Yang family, who served as the Transport Commissioner in Yangzhou. She tried it and said it worked well. Why don’t you try it for seven days first? However, since some herbs can conflict, it’s best to pause your other medications during this trial period.”
After leaving Old Madam Zhuang’s room, Mrs. Zhuang led Zhu Qingyu to a side room to write out the new prescription.
While Zhu Qingyu was writing a prescription, Miss Zhuang moved over with an embroidered stool and sat beside her, resting her face on her hand and tilting her head as she watched, her big eyes blinking curiously:
“Madam Zhang of the Zhang family, you’re really amazing!”
In the past, whenever Zhu Qingyu saw Miss Zhuang, perhaps because they weren’t yet very close or because they met outside, Miss Zhuang always appeared mature and dignified, carrying the bearing of a noble lady from a prominent family.
But now, sitting beside her with such eager eyes, she looked more like the little girl who once taught Su Mu and Lin Lan — youthful and full of curiosity.
After all, they were both just teenage girls. Though their statuses differed, they shared the same lively and restless spirit of youth. Deep down, Miss Zhuang also possessed the natural curiosity and thirst for knowledge that come with that age.
Perhaps it was because she had never seen an official’s wife come out to offer medical consultations, so her curiosity was only natural.
Zhu Qingyu smiled at her:
“You’re interested in this? I’ve actually written a couple of medical books myself. I could have shown them to you, but I didn’t bring them with me from Yangzhou. How about this: I’ll recommend a few beginner-level books for you to start with. But diagnosing people is one thing; really reading medical texts is another. Most people find them dry. So just treat them like storybooks for now.”
Miss Zhuang nodded enthusiastically:
“Great, great! You’re really amazing — you even write medical books!”
Not one to procrastinate, Miss Zhuang immediately instructed her servants to buy the books Zhu Qingyu recommended.
By the time they finished lunch, Zhu Qingyu and Zhang Shen were ready to take their leave, but Miss Zhuang was already engrossed in the books she held.
When Zhu Qingyu was seeing her out, Miss Zhuang still looked reluctant to part:
“I actually find this quite interesting!”
It was rare to see her so engaged. Yet with Miss Zhuang’s background and future path—destined to marry a noble husband and become the lady of the household, managing daily affairs—her interest could only go so far.
Still, for a young lady confined to domestic duties, having a hobby beyond household chores was a blessing.
So Zhu Qingyu smiled and said:
“If you come across anything you don’t understand, just ask me.”
Today’s visit to the Zhuang family was mainly so that Zhang Shen could seek Lord Zhuang’s advice on official matters.
Zhang Shen was three years older than Zhu Qingyu and not much younger than Lord Zhuang. Since they would be neighbors and colleagues for years to come, it was important to build a good rapport. Their conversation was lively and congenial.
Lord Zhuang even gifted Zhang Shen many books and gave him detailed instructions on the rituals for the upcoming Winter Sacrifice Ceremony.
On the way back, Zhang Shen was visibly excited:
“Lord Zhuang is truly exceptional—both in character and knowledge. Luckily, I came to consult him today. I’m not a capital official, so I don’t have to attend court regularly, but for the Winter Sacrifice Ceremony, all officials ranked fifth grade and above in the capital must attend. If I hadn’t asked, I might have messed up.”
Since Zhang Shen’s release from the imperial prison, this was the first time Zhu Qingyu had seen him so animated, and the first time she saw such hope shining in his eyes.
It was as if, ever since stepping out of that dark place, he had truly been reborn, alive in every sense.
Sure enough, anyone touched by moonlight will shine.
Zhu Qingyu sat beside him, keeping him company, quietly smiling as she listened to him speak. Occasionally, she would respond with a soft "Mm," "Yes," or "That's right," and other such simple replies.
Zhang Shen had been talking all the way about Lord Zhuang—about the guidance Lord Zhuang had given him, and his own thoughts on how he planned to manage the Jiangning Weaving Office in the future.
By the time they were almost at Qingyi Lane, Zhang Shen felt a bit embarrassed.
"Ah, I don’t know what’s come over me today. Did you find it all boring?" he asked.
Zhu Qingyu looked at him with a smile.
"No, not at all. I think it’s wonderful. I’m really happy for you. That way, when you take up your post in Jiangning next spring, I can feel at ease."
Zhang Shen gazed at her, a complex expression crossing his face. He wanted to say something but ended up saying nothing. Instead, he reached out his hand to her.
Zhu Qingyu leaned in, resting against him, letting him hold her.
In the jostling carriage, the young couple stayed quietly embraced for a while. Just before they got off, Zhang Shen finally spoke.
"Qingyu, could you… wait for me?"
Wait for me until I’m strong enough to bring you home.
