Chapter Sixty-One: Seeking Another Apothecary

An Yi vaguely heard An Jian talking to someone. After a moment, An Jian came in with a guest. It wasn’t anyone from the village, but rather Dongqing, the young servant who attended Han Songyan.

“Miss An, how are you?” Dongqing greeted her with a smile.

“Hello,” An Yi replied with a gentle smile.

An Jian poured him a large cup of water infused with mint, and asked casually, “How come your young master isn’t coming over to visit?”

Having walked dozens of miles, Dongqing was parched. He took the cup, drained it in one go, wiped his mouth, and replied, “There’s some trouble at the shop in Hengzhou City. The Fourth Young Master hurried there to handle it.”

An Yi’s brows arched slightly. She had just finished a page of her book and turned it over idly.

“What sort of trouble?” An Jian asked.

“That I don’t know,” Dongqing said with a laugh.

An Jian didn’t press for more. Dongqing, needing to hurry back to the city, left after paying three taels of silver for medicine.

“I wonder what happened that made Brother Songyan rush to Hengzhou in such haste?” An Jian mused, half to himself, half to An Yi.

An Yi put the silver into the wooden box. “Even if you knew what the trouble was, you couldn’t help. Better practice your calligraphy. If you haven’t finished your assignments before our elder brother gets home, you can forget about lunch.”

“Sister, can’t you help me with a couple of sheets?” An Jian pleaded, face full of misery. “Big Brother assigned way too much. I have to practice martial arts in the morning, dig for herbs in the afternoon—how can I finish twenty sheets?”

An Yi glanced back at him. “Big Brother makes you practice for your own good. I won’t help you deceive him.”

An Jian mumbled under his breath. An Yi didn’t catch it, nor did she ask, just picked up her book and went back to reading.

As noon approached, Mrs. Luo and An Kang returned from the herb garden. An Jian was still struggling with his calligraphy, while An Yi finished cooking and pulled the burning firewood from the stove. Hearing their voices, she called out, “Mother, Brother, you’re back. Lunch is ready.”

After suffering a bout of heatstroke, the weather had turned hot these days. Not only Mrs. Luo and An Kang forbade her from going to the herb garden or out to dig for herbs, even Doctor Lu insisted she rest at home for a few days. It left her exasperated and amused—they were acting as if she had some terminal illness rather than a mere heatstroke. But to keep them from worrying, she obediently stayed home, reading and embroidering.

“It smells wonderful. Sister, your cooking is almost as good as Mother’s,” An Kang praised with a smile.

An Yi tossed the firewood into the clay jar by the stove, covered it, and looked up, not seeing Mrs. Luo. “Hmm? Where’s Mother?”

“She got pulled away by Aunt Zhu on the way home,” An Kang replied, smiling.

An Yi picked up two bowls of dishes from the stove. “Brother, the water in the basin is clean. Wash your hands and help me bring out the rice.”

“All right.”

An Yi brought the dishes into the main room and called out, “Second Brother, come eat.”

“Sister, just save mine. I haven’t finished yet,” An Jian said in frustration.

“What have you been doing all morning? Why aren’t you finished yet?” An Kang came in with three bowls of rice, his tone stern.

“He didn’t play, he’s been writing all along. It was Dongqing, the Fourth Young Master’s servant, who came and talked for a while,” An Yi explained on his behalf.

“What did Dongqing want?” An Kang asked.

“He brought money for the herbs. The Fourth Young Master went to Hengzhou.”

An Kang frowned. “Did he say why Brother Songyan went to Hengzhou?”

“No,” An Yi replied.

“Come and eat, Second Brother,” An Kang relented.

An Jian responded and came out from the back room, eating while winking at An Yi in gratitude for her rescue.

An Yi smiled quietly.

After the three siblings finished eating, An Jian took on dishwashing duty and carried the bowls to the kitchen.

An Kang entered the back room, about to pick up the book An Yi had been reading all morning, but his eye fell on the embroidery basket by the bed. An idea struck him, and he picked up the pillowcase inside. “Sister, you’ve been embroidering this pair of pillowcases for almost a month. When do you plan to finish them?”

An Yi snatched the pillowcase away. “I’ll finish this afternoon.”

Because of this promise, she didn’t read that afternoon, but instead focused on her embroidery, diligently working on the pair of pillowcases.

The next day, the rainy season arrived. By evening, rain began to fall, signaling the start of Jiangnan’s long, damp plum rains. Last year, the rains were brief—just two or three heavy showers. This year, it rained for five days straight before clearing up. It saved the effort of fetching water, but the herbs in the garden that disliked wetness worried An Yi.

In the morning, Mrs. Luo went into town to deliver goods. Seizing the cool weather, An Yi visited the herb garden to check on the plants and breathed a sigh of relief. The garden was on high ground, there was no standing water, and all the herbs looked lush and vibrant in the sunlight.

“Master!” An Yi called loudly as she approached Doctor Lu, who was crouched in the yam patch.

“Your master isn’t deaf. No need to shout so loud,” Doctor Lu stood up, turning with a stern face.

“You say you’re not deaf, but I called you four or five times from over there and you didn’t hear me!”

“I heard you. I just didn’t answer on purpose.”

An Yi pouted. “Bad master!”

“Cheeky disciple!”

After their playful bickering, they got to work. An Yi pulled some weeds, boiled a pot of water for Doctor Lu’s tea, and listened to him recount several medical cases. After about half an hour, she headed home.

Soon after she got back, two carriages stopped in front of their house. Cheng Zhilin alighted from the first, glanced at the carriage behind, then at the An family’s door, and sighed deeply.

Miss Li Wu stepped down from the second carriage. Besides her two maids, she was accompanied by a girl of eleven or twelve, hair coiled in a simple bun and dressed in a pale blue gown, and another girl dressed similarly to Miss Li Wu’s maids—clearly another mistress and servant pair.

Li Wu wrinkled her meticulously shaped brows at the mud-brick walls in distaste. “Chubby Cheng, are you sure this is the place?”

“Don’t call me Chubby Cheng. I’m Cheng Zhilin—Cheng. Zhi. Lin. I’m sure it’s here; I’ve been here three or four times. If I’m wrong, I’ll jump in the Xiao River and drown myself,” Cheng Zhilin retorted hotly.

“Brother, there you go talking nonsense again,” chided the blue-clothed girl coquettishly.

Cheng Zhilin puffed out his cheeks and stepped forward to knock.

An Yi was sorting herbs in the courtyard when she heard the knock. She stood to open the door. Seeing Li Wu behind Cheng Zhilin, she knew trouble had arrived. When she saw the girl by Li Wu’s side, she realized the trouble was even bigger—she’d brought reinforcements.

Cheng Zhilin grinned sheepishly at An Yi. “Little Sister An, you know Miss Li Wu. This is my sister, Cheng Shuangshuang.”

Li Wu protested, “What do you mean, Miss Li Wu? I have a proper name—Li Jiayao.”

Cheng Shuangshuang looked An Yi up and down. “You’re An Yi, aren’t you?”

“I am,” An Yi replied, catching a flash of hostility in Cheng Shuangshuang’s eyes. She wondered at it—she had merely stumped Li Jiayao with a couplet; even if they were close as sisters, this enmity seemed overblown.

“Zhilin, what brings you here?” An Kang emerged on hearing the commotion.

Cheng Zhilin darted to An Kang’s side, whispering, “An Kang, they forced me to come. Don’t blame me.”

An Kang saw who was at the door and frowned slightly. Though these guests were here to cause trouble, hospitality demanded they be received. “Please, ladies, come in.”

An Yi curled her lips. Left to her, she’d have shut the door on them, but An Kang was the head of the household, so she deferred.

Seated in the main room, Li Jiayao wasted no time. “An Yi.”

An Yi looked back, her gaze calm and unruffled.

“You study medicine, don’t you?” Li Jiayao asked.

“Yes.”

“You know lots of herbs and their uses, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You can diagnose and treat illnesses too, can’t you?” Li Jiayao pressed.

“Yes.”

“In that case, do you dare to compete with Sister Shuang?” Li Jiayao lifted her chin, looking down her nose.

An Kang shot a frosty glare at Cheng Zhilin for bringing trouble to An Yi. Were it not for their two years of shared schooling, he’d have turned them away already.

Cheng Zhilin gave a wry smile. He hadn’t wanted to come either, but Li Wu had something over him and left him no choice. He truly understood now that words could bring calamity. Why had he ever mentioned to them that his cousin and Little Sister An had been diagnosing patients together? Why had he praised her medical talent? Now his cousin’s admirer was jealous, and, egged on by Li Wu, insisted on challenging An Yi.

“There’s no need for this,” An Yi said calmly.

“There is,” Cheng Shuangshuang threatened softly. “If you refuse, that’s the same as admitting defeat. If you lose, you must never sell herbs to Jihuai Hall again.”

An Kang’s face darkened, about to speak, but An Yi cut him off. “I won’t compete with you, and I won’t sell herbs to Jihuai Hall anymore. You may leave.”

An Yi had already guessed the source of Cheng Shuangshuang’s hostility. She was neither angry nor upset—just amused. She and Han Songyan? Ridiculous. If you’re going to pick a love rival, at least get the right person.

“You really won’t sell to Jihuai Hall?” Cheng Shuangshuang asked suspiciously.

“I mean what I say. If I say I won’t, I won’t,” An Yi replied. She preferred a simple life, free from the troubles of love-struck people.

Cheng Shuangshuang stared at her. An Yi met her gaze without flinching.

Her clear, dark eyes were calm as a still lake—no guilt, no evasion.

Cheng Shuangshuang smiled faintly, gave a small bow, and said, “I believe you. Sorry to trouble you. Farewell.”

“I won’t see you out,” An Yi replied, remaining seated.

“Sister Shuang, you’re leaving just like that?” Li Jiayao called after her, incredulous. The play hadn’t even begun, and already the cast was dispersing?

“An Kang, I’ll leave now. I’ll come apologize to you and Little Sister An another day,” Cheng Zhilin called as he hurried after them.

At the door, Li Jiayao turned to threaten, “An Yi, Sister Shuang is easy to fool, but I’m not. Don’t try anything funny, or you’ll regret it.”

An Yi ignored her and went inside.

“Sister,” An Kang called after her, hesitant.

She glanced back, saw his worried face, and smiled. “Don’t worry, Brother. The city has more than one pharmacy. We’ll just sell herbs elsewhere.”

An Kang was taken aback, then laughed. He had overthought things. His little sister was only nine; of course she didn’t understand the intricacies. All she cared about were her herbs. “That’s right—we can sell them elsewhere.”

At the end of May, Mrs. Luo brought the three children and three large bundles of herbs into town. Instead of going to Jihuai Hall, they went to another pharmacy—Qianjin Hall.

“Brother, wait outside,” An Yi said, reaching for the bundle in An Kang’s hands.

“Sister, there’s no shame in digging herbs to make a living,” An Kang said seriously.

“You misunderstand, Brother. I never thought there was shame in it. I just don’t want people to recognize you as a scholar and give us more money just to curry favor—three coins’ worth of herbs for five coins,” An Yi replied, smiling.

An Kang blushed. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Taking the bundles, An Yi entered Qianjin Hall with Mrs. Luo and An Jian.

There were no patients inside. The resident doctor was reading a medical text, two women stood at the counter waiting for their prescriptions, and the manager was weighing medicine.

A shop assistant approached. “Are you here to see the doctor or to fill a prescription?”

“Hello, sir. We’re here to sell herbs,” An Yi said politely.

“Sell herbs?” The assistant glanced at her bundle and scoffed. “Little girl, do you even know what herbs are? Don’t talk big. Go on, get out—don’t get in the way.”

An Jian glared at him in anger. “You—”

“Second Brother, let’s try another shop,” An Yi tugged his sleeve.

The three of them were about to leave when a commotion erupted outside. Two men carried in a girl, her nose bleeding. With them came a woman—none other than Sister Zhen from the Scarlet Embroidery Workshop.

The assistant ignored An Yi’s group, calling, “Doctor Li, a patient’s here.”

Doctor Li quickly set aside his book and took the girl’s pulse. “The pulse is thin and rapid—signs of yin deficiency and lung dryness. The blood is running wild from internal heat, surging upward. Stick out your tongue.”

The girl suddenly began vomiting blood, making it impossible to examine her tongue.

Doctor Li frowned and asked Sister Zhen, “Any other symptoms?”

“No, she was fine until this morning when her nose suddenly started bleeding and wouldn’t stop,” Sister Zhen replied, nearly in tears.

“I’ll stop the bleeding first.” Doctor Li pressed the girl’s Yingxiang point with his right index finger and the Kongzui point on her forearm with his left thumb.

After about the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, the bleeding hadn’t stopped. Doctor Li grew anxious, sweat beading on his forehead, and tried again for another incense’s worth of time, still to no avail. “The bleeding won’t stop.”

“What should we do?” Sister Zhen hugged her now-unconscious daughter.

Doctor Li hesitated. “Take her to Jihuai Hall to see Doctors Fang and Huang. Maybe they have a solution.”

Sister Zhen, weeping, said, “Doctor Fang is out on a house call. Doctor Huang couldn’t help and sent us to you.”

Doctor Li rubbed his forehead, baffled.

Mrs. Luo leaned in and whispered, “Xier, that’s Sister Zhen’s daughter. Do you have a way to stop the bleeding?”

An Yi hesitated for a moment, then went over and looked at the girl.

“Xier?” Sister Zhen blinked. “What are you looking for?”

An Yi smiled, squatted to take the girl’s pulse, and felt her palm. “Sister Zhen, may I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

An Yi glanced around. Most of those present were men, and the doorway was crowded with onlookers, so she leaned in to whisper, “Are your daughter’s periods scanty and irregular?”

Sister Zhen was surprised. “How did you know?”

“Does she also have dizziness, ringing in the ears, and hot flashes?” An Yi asked.

“Yes,” Sister Zhen nodded.

An Yi stood up. “Doctor Li, this is a case of reversed menses.”

“You’re sure?” Doctor Li looked at the little girl, incredulous.

“You yourself said her pulse is thin and rapid, with yin deficiency and lung dryness. The blood, overheated, surges upward, causing nosebleeds and vomiting,” An Yi explained.

Doctor Li, still skeptical, looked at the girl’s continuing nosebleed. “If you say it’s reversed menses, then how would you treat it? How will you stop the bleeding?”

An Yi gave him a look, walked to the desk, wrote out a prescription, and handed it to the manager. “Please fill this prescription.”

The manager glanced at Doctor Li, then went behind the counter, apparently willing to follow An Yi’s orders.

Doctor Li pressed his lips together.

An Yi added, “Could someone please bring some garlic?”

The shop assistant looked to the manager, who nodded.

“We’ll also need a basin of water,” An Yi continued.

The manager finished weighing the herbs. “Miss, shall I decoct the medicine for her?”

“Yes, please,” An Yi replied courteously.

The assistant brought water and garlic.

An Yi mashed the garlic into a paste. “Sister Zhen, please remove her shoes and socks.”

Sister Zhen, too distraught to question whether this would work, did as she was told. An Yi applied the garlic paste to the girl’s soles.

Gradually, the bleeding stopped. An Yi cleaned the blood from her mouth and nose. When the medicine was ready, she fed it to the girl. Not long after, the girl regained consciousness.

Sister Zhen was overjoyed. “Xier, thank you!”

An Yi smiled serenely and stepped aside.

Doctor Li’s expression was unpleasant as he turned and retreated to the back room.

The manager watched him go and shook his head slightly.

Sister Zhen thanked An Yi repeatedly, paid for the medicine, and left with her daughter and family.

The manager, noticing An Yi hadn’t left, smiled. “Young lady, do you need something else?”

“Manager, I’ve come to sell some herbs. Would you be interested in these?” An Yi asked politely.

“Of course. That’s what a pharmacy is for,” he replied, his eyes lighting up at the quality of the herbs. “Did you gather these yourself?”

“My second brother and I dug them together,” An Yi answered.

After inspecting and weighing the herbs, the manager worked his abacus. “Young lady, that comes to one tael and six coins of silver.”

An Yi frowned slightly. The price was a bit lower than what Uncle Chen used to pay. “Manager, your price is lower than the other pharmacies.”

“This is a fair price, young lady. If you don’t believe me, feel free to ask around and come back,” he said with a smile, unoffended.

An Yi wondered—had Uncle Chen paid her more than the standard price? Uncle Chen was just a manager, not the owner. Could it be…