The Senior Secretary had received orders from the Eldest Princess to follow Doctor Zhu's instructions, but standing there waiting, he found that Doctor Zhu wasn't speaking.
This wasn't the first time the capital had sent a royal physician. The last one who came—well, the dead deserve respect, let's not mention him.
He wondered if this one would be any use.
Why wasn't he speaking?
Surely he hadn't been so stunned by the horrors of the military camp that he didn't know where to begin?
Come to think of it, an ordinary doctor might treat just one patient at a time. For someone who had never seen tens of thousands of patients clamoring for treatment, he could very well be terrified out of his wits.
And this Doctor Zhu, so young—could he possibly handle this?
For the brief moments Zhu Qingyu stared at the empty doorway without speaking, the Senior Secretary had already begun a whole inner monologue of doubts. He called out twice:
"Your Excellency Doctor Zhu? Doctor Zhu? What are your orders?"
Zhu Qingyu forced herself to pull her mind back from the turmoil brought on by the sudden farewell and said:
"Senior Secretary, how many patients are currently in the camp? How many new patients can it still hold? What medicines are available, and is there an inventory? If medicines are insufficient, where can we get more? I need people—many people. Where can I find them?"
Even though the Senior Secretary had managed the Eldest Princess's estate for many years, this barrage of questions from Doctor Zhu left him momentarily flustered.
A true professional reveals their caliber the moment they act. The moment Doctor Zhu opened his mouth, every question struck at the core of the matter—he seemed far more reliable than the last Doctor Liu.
The Senior Secretary quickly set aside his earlier disdain and addressed the first question:
"The soldiers infected with the plague number no fewer than several thousand. Add the critically ill civilians, and there are currently over ten thousand people quarantined within the camp. As for those outside, the count is impossible to determine. So many die each day that it’s hard to keep track."
Zhu Qingyu found a desk in the hall, spread out paper, and ground ink to write a prescription, saying:
"It must be tracked. Not only tracked, but triaged. Senior Secretary, I need a critical-care ward that can hold at least five hundred people, and three hundred young men who are literate and strong. Please arrange it. Su Mu, Lin Lan, handle this task. Separate the patients by severity—mild cases get their symptoms, names, and numbers recorded. Severe cases are sent to the critical-care ward."
On the journey to the northern border, after reuniting with Su Mu and Lin Lan, Zhu Qingyu had rehearsed this scenario with them many times. So Su Mu and Lin Lan slipped straight into action, immediately saying:
"Yes, we'll go now."
Zhu Qingyu continued:
"Senior Secretary, please give the medicine warehouse inventory to Nanny Tian, along with fifty people who have some knowledge of medicine—ideally doctors or pharmacy owners. Nanny Tian, lead your team to inspect the pharmacy beforehand to see if anything is missing, spoiled, or insufficient. Later, fill the prescriptions and handle all medicine distribution through you."
Nanny Tian answered in a booming voice, slapping her chest on the spot:
"Rest assured, Doctor Zhu."
As she spoke, Zhu Qingyu had already finished writing Grand General Wen's prescription. She handed it to Nanny Zhao and said:
"This is Grand General Wen's medicine. Have it decocted as soon as possible. Nanny Zhao, you will oversee the decoction and distribution from now on. Senior Secretary, please assign three hundred people to Nanny Zhao. Senior Secretary! Senior Secretary? Can these arrangements be made?"
Just moments ago, Zhu Qingyu had been distracted by the pang of parting, but now it was the Senior Secretary who was stunned by how methodically and confidently Doctor Zhu organized everything.
Doctor Zhu looked so young, yet seemed as if she had handled such large-scale operations before—as if this was nothing out of the ordinary for her.
Seeing the Senior Secretary silent, Zhu Qingyu thought he hadn't heard her, so she asked again:
"Can it be arranged? Any difficulties?"
The Senior Secretary snapped back to attention and replied:
"It can be arranged. Yes, yes, yes!"
This was where the wisdom of the Eldest Grand Princess leaving the Senior Secretary in place shone through. As a full fifth-rank official of the court—indeed a rank higher than Doctor Zhu himself—he had the authority to mobilize people and allocate resources.
Zhu Qingyu had rattled off demands for hundreds of people like ordering dishes, and the Senior Secretary rose to the occasion, summoning people one after another. In less than an hour, the numbers were filled. As a bonus, he arranged for maids to see to the physicians' daily needs.
After filling the ranks and confirming with Zhu Qingyu that no more were needed for now, the Senior Secretary walked out of the meeting hall. Seeing the bustling crowds moving back and forth in the military camp, his nose stung, and he almost wept.
Every time before this, when he came to this camp where the sick were housed, he felt as though he had entered a colossal graveyard.
A graveyard devoid of any hope of survival, existing only as a place for the gravely ill to wait for death.
Even Fort Dingsheng itself, the entire northern frontier, was becoming a vast graveyard. No one knew what to do about the plague; people could only wait helplessly for their turn to come, doing nothing.
But now, he saw that everyone was busy. Everyone knew what they were supposed to do. Everyone's eyes held light.
The Senior Secretary felt as if the camp had come alive—Fort Dingsheng had come alive—and the entire northern frontier, from this very moment, had come alive.
It wasn't until Grand General Wen had taken his medicine and his condition was stable that Zhu Qingyu and the others found time to eat the New Year's Eve dinner.
They had not touched a drop of water or a grain of food since noon. Everyone was almost faint from hunger. Even Lin Lan, usually a delicate eater, was ravenously shoveling rice into her mouth, clinging to her bowl.
Zhu Qingyu was speaking to Nanny Tian:
"Tomorrow, once Uncle Qi brings the luggage, find a spot in the pharmacy to set up those furnaces. It will speed up the consultations."
Right as she said this, the ground began to tremble slightly, and even the table shook.
Zhu Qingyu's first thought was—an earthquake?
But the rhythmic vibration sounded more like—
Realizing what it might be, Zhu Qingyu set down her bowl and rushed out of the meeting hall.
Outdoors, the sound was clearer. It was the footfall of a large body of marching troops.
Zhu Qingyu scanned her surroundings and spotted the camp's tallest structure—the three-story reviewing platform.
She ran to the platform, climbed all three flights in one breath, and charged onto the third-story balcony, looking in the direction from which the footsteps came.
On the official road outside the camp, a winding, endless column of troops was advancing.
Would Gu Zhao be among them?
In the sky hung only a thin sliver of a waning moon, so faint it gave almost no light. No one could pick out a specific person from among an army in such moonlight.
Zhu Qingyu didn't even know why she had run up here. She sighed and prepared to go back to her dinner.
Eating was the priority now. There was still so much work to do.
Just as she was about to leave, a bang rang out, and a firework soared into the sky, then another.
Even in times of internal strife and external peril, life still went on—someone was still welcoming the coming New Year with fireworks.
For one brief instant, the whole world was illuminated. And in that instant, Zhu Qingyu saw Gu Zhao's figure.
He was tall to begin with, and mounted on his horse, he stood out even more. Perhaps because of the fireworks bursting behind him, Gu Zhao turned his head and looked back—in her direction.
Though she knew she was hidden in the shadows, though she knew he could not see her, Zhu Qingyu still spoke toward the distant Gu Zhao:
"Happy New Year. Please, come back alive, my Vice Minister Gu!"
