Yang Yanfeng looked up at the sky, down at the earth, and felt utterly hollow inside.
He never would have thought that Song Qiming would become Ye Liangyu's disciple. That Ye Liangyu.
A former third-rank Deputy Censor-in-Chief of the court. Even though he had retired to his hometown, his network of connections within the imperial court was something ordinary people could only dream of.
All the academy tutors, himself among them, had been turned away at his door, yet Song Qiming had already become his guanmen disciple (a "closing-door" disciple, i.e., the last disciple).
When Yang Yanfeng went to the Li residence that evening, his legs felt weak. If Ye Liangyu found out he had tried to poach his disciple, he couldn't imagine how much he would be ridiculed.
When he saw Li Tianchong, Yang's tense face was a picture of misery.
He said listlessly, "Brother Li, I knew you had a good eye, but I never realized just how good."
"Why couldn't you have investigated properly before sending me to recruit him? You've made me take a terrible tumble!"
Li Tianchong stopped in his tracks, bewildered. "What's wrong? Was Song Qiming unwilling to become your disciple?"
Yang Yanfeng plopped down into a chair, picked up a teacup, took a large gulp, and set it down heavily.
"Unwilling? That's putting it mildly. Do you know he's already apprenticed himself to someone else?"
Li Tianchong's eyes widened. "Who?"
Yang Yanfeng heaved a heavy sigh, his tone firm and forceful. "Ye Liangyu. The very same Ye Liangyu who just retired from the position of Deputy Censor-in-Chief."
Seeing Li Tianchong was stunned, Yang softened his attitude and said, "Your vision is truly sharp, but it's far too late. Song Qiming had already connected with Ye Liangyu before the academy examination."
"Ranked thirty-sixth in the prefectural exam, then achieving first place in the academy exam—such rapid progress is all due to Ye Liangyu's guidance behind the scenes."
"With a backer like that, your hopes of winning Song Qiming over are probably impossible now."
Li Tianchong's breath hitched, his chest vibrating with the force of it.
Ye Liangyu was impervious to both soft and hard tactics, loyal only to the Emperor.
If he had been willing to take sides, he would never have ended up in his current situation.
With Song Qiming as his disciple, that piece on the board was effectively useless, impossible to salvage.
Li Tianchong looked up and asked, "Who else knows about the relationship between Song Qiming and Ye Liangyu?"
Yang Yanfeng shook his head. "Probably very few. Otherwise, Ding Weiyue wouldn't dare target him so blatantly."
"However, from what I gathered from Song Qiming's words today, it seems Ye Liangyu is planning to come teach at the academy."
Li Tianchong wearily pressed his fingers against his temples. After a long moment of thought, he spoke, "Trouble you, Brother Yang, to keep an eye out at the academy for a few scholars who are talented yet come from impoverished families. Having lost Song Qiming, I must cultivate a few others."
Yang Yanfeng also felt somewhat dejected. Such a gifted disciple had slipped right through his fingers. It seems it just wasn't meant to be.
"Students from poor families are a dime a dozen, but their talent and innate ability certainly won't match Song Qiming's."
Li Tianchong closed his eyes with a sigh. "Pick the tallest among the short. My Li family lacks not for money. Cast a wider net, and we're bound to find a good one eventually."
For now, this was the only way he could console himself.
On the day Song Jinzhao went to remove Old Madam Meng's stitches, Liu Xuanqing noticed the clinic was empty except for Song Shixue. His eyes darted around twice before he strode right in and started helping.
Song Shixue stared blankly at Liu Xuanqing, who had begun diagnosing patients. Once she regained her senses, she walked over and asked, "Doctor Liu, what are you doing?"
Liu Xuanqing was enthusiastic, his face beaming with a smile. "Second Miss Song, business at Huiming Hall hasn't been great these past few days. I see you're a bit shorthanded here. How about I become your apprentice? I could stay here from now on to see patients, what do you say?"
Song Shixue's mouth fell slightly open. Was her hearing faulty, or had Doctor Liu misspoken?
"Are you seeing patients or not? We've been waiting for quite a while!" An elderly woman with bent legs grew impatient and shouted at the two of them.
Liu Xuanqing instantly turned his head. "Yes, yes, seeing them! One at a time, we'll start right now."
Song Shixue watched him act as naturally as if he were in his own home. He was clearly older than her grandfather, yet he seemed less sensible than Lanxi.
A patient who recognized Liu Xuanqing craned his neck, looking him up and down curiously. "Isn't this Doctor Liu from Huiming Hall? What's he doing here?"
Old Madam Meng's personal maidservant led Song Jinzhao towards the inner courtyard.
"These past few days, the old madam's mood has been getting better and better, and her appetite has returned. However, we've strictly followed your instructions, giving her only light, easily digestible liquids, and controlled the portions so she doesn't overeat."
"But today, since you're coming to remove the stitches, she's been nervous since she woke up this morning, constantly asking if it will hurt."
When Song Jinzhao entered the room, Madam Meng was sitting on the couch with Old Madam Meng, chatting.
Seeing them enter, Old Madam Meng stiffened, her expression becoming somewhat unnatural.
Madam Meng promptly rose to greet Song Jinzhao. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she went out and closed the door.
The maidservant lifted Old Madam Meng's loose outer garment, revealing the wound on her right abdomen, still covered with gauze.
Seeing Song Jinzhao about to remove the gauze and begin, Old Madam Meng couldn't help but call out to stop her.
"Doctor Song, shouldn't you apply some anesthetic? Pulling the thread out from inside the flesh must be very painful."
Even as she spoke, Song Jinzhao deftly removed the gauze. No infection, redness, swelling, or discharge. Ready for suture removal.
"It's not very painful. Grit your teeth, close your eyes, and by the time you open them, it'll be out."
Old Madam Meng, with the resolve of one facing death, grabbed her maid's hand and closed her eyes.
A stinging sensation, like a mosquito bite, followed by a slight tugging feeling as the thread was pulled, immediately made her whole body tense, her feet trembling involuntarily.
In the blink of an eye, Song Jinzhao had finished removing the sutures. She applied a thin layer of ointment to the wound and covered it with fresh gauze.
"For the next half month, be careful with the wound when coughing or sneezing. Avoid straining your right abdomen. After half a month, you should be mostly fine."
Old Madam Meng grasped Song Jinzhao's hand. "Doctor Song, this scar looks like a centipede. I know your medical skills are excellent. Is there any ointment that can remove scars?"
Song Jinzhao: "No. The surgical incision reached the dermal layer. Any ointment will find it very difficult to remove it."
A sixty-year-old's skin is already slack, with decreased cell regeneration capacity. Its self-repair function is much poorer than a younger person's, so the scar will only be more pronounced, likely remaining much as it looks now, freshly healed.
However, it was better not to tell her this, lest it spoil her mood. After all, even a sixty-year-old woman cares about her appearance.
Returning to the clinic, Song Jinzhao found Liu Xuanqing sitting in her own chair, seeing patients. For a moment, she thought she had walked into the wrong clinic.
"Shixue, what's going on?"
"Why is Doctor Liu here?"
