Before the new year, Zhu Qingyu had once thought of going to Shu region to see if there was a Qingyun Street, a Qingyun Mountain, or the ancestral graves of the Zhu family. She wanted to find some connection to her present self and, after her death, leave clues for her parents and elder brother about where she had gone.
Though it never came to pass for various reasons, the thought had always lingered in her heart. She was eager to find an opportunity to go to Shu and verify it.
Now, unexpectedly, thousands of miles away, on this remote frontier, she had come across someone from Qingyun Mountain.
Zhu Qingyu had never heard of Zhu Village, but administrative divisions had often changed throughout history, and the names of small units like villages rarely survived into later times. Add in the urbanization of modern times, and many villages had naturally vanished. So it was perfectly normal that she hadn’t heard of it.
But since both places were at the foot of Qingyun Mountain, it was reasonable to assume that Zhu Village was not far from Qingyun Street. They were true fellow townsfolk.
Even if they were fellow townsfolk separated by vast stretches of time, meeting here still stirred Zhu Qingyu. She quickly pulled up a chair for the young man and said,
“Of course I know Qingyun Mountain. I live at its foot too. What a coincidence. You say you’re from Zhu Village? Do you also have the surname Zhu? What’s your name?”
Seeing the lord judge acting so approachable, the young man spoke more naturally and said with a smile,
“My name is Zhu Dashan.”
Oh dear, that didn’t sound good.
Zhu Qingyu, who had been happily acknowledging a fellow townsman, felt her spirit deflate at the sound of that name.
Could it really be this much of a coincidence?
Zhu Qingyu probed,
“Does your father have a leg ailment? Did you come to the northern frontier to serve in the army in his place?”
Zhu Dashan’s eyes widened instantly.
“Yes! How did you know, Lord Zhu? Do you recognize me?”
Recognize him? She knew him all too well. Every time she swept the ancestral graves and made wishes, maybe some of them had been directed at him.
Zhu Qingyu sprang up from her seat, not daring to sit anymore.
Every time the clan held ancestor worship, the very first page of the family tree was dedicated to her ancestor—this very name: Zhu Dashan.
Since he had a whole page in the genealogy to himself, he had to be celebrated for his virtuous reputation, for future generations to look up to.
Even now, there was a portrait of Zhu Dashan in the Zhu ancestral hall, depicting him as a white-bearded, immortal-like figure.
When it came to virtue in ancient times, filial piety was foremost. Beside the portrait were his glorious deeds: the ancestor was unfailingly devoted to his parents. Because his father had a leg ailment, Zhu Dashan, at only thirteen, bravely joined the army in his father’s place. On the battlefield, he also learned exceptional medical skills. After returning home, he cured his father’s leg condition and became a famous doctor far and wide, thus beginning the Zhu family legacy of practicing medicine for generations from their base at Qingyun Mountain.
The first time Zhu Qingyu read that, showing great irreverence toward her ancestor, she bitterly mocked it. Whoever had written these glorious deeds was truly inept—the account was too sloppy.
Learning a set of excellent medical skills on the battlefield? Was that even a logical scenario?
But at this moment, Zhu Qingyu had to admit she had wronged the clan hall’s publicist for years. Reality could indeed be that mind-blowingly fantastical.
Startled by Zhu Qingyu’s abrupt movement, Zhu Dashan quickly stood up.
“Lord Zhu, what’s wrong?”
Zhu Qingyu looked at the rather thin young man before her, finding it hard to connect him with the white-bearded immortal in the ancestral hall.
Maybe it was just a namesake.
But to come from the foot of Qingyun Mountain, to be thirteen years old and taking his father’s place in the army, and to share the same name—the likelihood was far too slim.
If it really was him, his excellent battlefield-acquired medical skills couldn’t possibly have been learned from her, could they?
Zhu Qingyu’s head felt like it was about to explode. Since she had remained silent, Zhu Dashan grew anxious and asked again.
“Lord Zhu?”
Zhu Qingyu suddenly spoke.
“You—no, I mean, do you want to study medicine?”
Zhu Dashan’s mouth fell open, stunned at first.
“Ah?”
Then he came to his senses, overjoyed.
“Yes, yes, yes! Lord Zhu, would you take me as your apprentice?”
Teaching Zhu Dashan medicine was fine, but even as bold as she was, Zhu Qingyu dared not accept someone she suspected was her ancestor as an apprentice—that would mess up the generations entirely. Her parents would scold her to death.
So she thought of a compromise and summoned Su Mu.
“This is Zhu Dashan. From now on, when you see patients, take him along and teach him.”
Upon hearing the surname Zhu and seeing how specially Doctor Zhu had arranged for him, Su Mu grew curious.
“Doctor Zhu, is he one of your relatives?”
In terms of blood ties, he probably was. Zhu Qingyu acknowledged it.
“Something like that. We’re from the same area.”
Since he was Doctor Zhu’s relative and young, everyone in the Zhu medical clinic treated him with kindness, basically regarding him as the clinic’s seventh member.
Su Mu taught him to see patients, Nanny Tian taught him to recognize herbs, and even Uncle Qi, when fetching meals, would grab extra pieces of meat for him, urging him to eat more and bulk up.
Zhu Qingyu thought her arrangement was perfect, but for some reason, the next day Zhu Dashan brought dried meat and celery as tuition and said he wanted to perform the formal bow of apprenticeship.
Could she let her own ancestor kneel to her in a disciple’s ceremony?
If she did, when she visited his grave and made wishes in the future, would he stop blessing her?
Absolutely not. Zhu Qingyu, horrified, quickly stopped Zhu Dashan, who was about to kneel, and said,
“No need for that! I accept the meat, but we don’t do kneeling here. If you don’t believe me, go ask Su Mu.”
Su Mu’s situation was different from Zhu Dashan’s. Zhu Qingyu had originally purchased them. To Su Mu, Doctor Zhu was her master—she learned whatever she was taught—but she could never overstep by performing a formal worship as an apprentice.
Relying on Zhu Dashan’s young age and lack of understanding, Zhu Qingyu managed to talk him out of it, solving the big problem of her ancestral grave wishes not coming true. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.
She thought that was the end of it, but in the evening, when Zhu Qingyu returned from the intensive care ward, she saw Zhu Dashan placing something on her desk.
Zhu Qingyu called out to him.
“Dashan, what have you brought me now? Your military pay is so small. Save it for your trip home. Don’t spend it recklessly.”
Zhu Dashan turned around, revealing what he had placed there.
On her desk lay a handful of small purple flowers—identical to the ones someone had given her once during a journey.
Zhu Dashan said,
“I asked Sister Su Mu. She said that on the way here, you sometimes picked these flowers to play with. The military drill ground is full of them. As I was passing by, I thought you might like them, Doctor Zhu, so I picked some.”
Zhu Qingyu looked at the small purple blossoms and smiled.
“Thank you. I really do like them.”
After Zhu Dashan left, Zhu Qingyu looked around for something to keep the flowers alive.
Camp conditions were rough; there were no delicate shallow porcelain dishes for flowers like in the outside world. Zhu Qingyu found a drinking bowl, filled it with water, and placed the small purple blossoms in it.
Between seeing patients, Zhu Qingyu would occasionally glance at that bouquet of small purple flowers.
It was already the seventh day since the army had set out. The tiny purple blossoms had opened again. The man who loved wearing clothes the color of purple-thistle—who, like a lilac flower, would shed tears over the sorrowful tales in opera scripts—had still not returned.
