Chapter 7: Parents

The long street lay silent, row upon row of gray-eaved buildings, staggered high and low. Their upturned eaves, like waves in the black ocean of night, were frozen in time.

Old Head Yao walked slowly, hands clasped behind him. Chen Ji followed, silent and reserved. He had many questions swirling in his mind: Where was North Jialuzhou? Did the old man know a young man named Li Qingniao? What were the Forty-Nine Heavens?

But he knew he could not ask. He could only bury these doubts deep in his heart.

Old Head Yao, perplexed, spoke, "You're usually as garrulous as worn cotton. Why are you so quiet today?"

Chen Ji’s heart tightened. "It's still about the matter at the Zhou mansion. You told me not to speak of it."

Old Head Yao suddenly asked, "Did you kill someone?"

Chen Ji remained silent for a long moment before replying, "No."

Old Head Yao merely grunted softly, asking no further questions. Indeed, for the rest of the journey, the old man made no inquiries about the night's events, as if nothing untoward had occurred.

After approximately an hour, Chen Ji finally saw the grand red-lacquered gates of the Jing Wangfu in the distance. Guards stood before them, halberds held aloft, clad in iron armor. The stone lions flanking the gate were majestic and imposing. Two white lanterns hung beneath the gray eaves, bearing the characters "Jing Wangfu." A plaque above the gate displayed the gold-lacquered words "Zheng Da Guang Ming."

Instead of entering through the main gate, Physician Yao led Chen Ji towards the side of the Wangfu, where a clinic stood adjacent to the residence. It was named 'Taiping.' The plaque above its door bore four large characters: "Gai Bu She Qiong."

Old Head Yao pushed open the clinic's heavy door, stepping over the high threshold. Inside, an oil lamp cast a warm glow on the long counter. Outside lay the dark, endless street and the night; within the clinic, a warm, orange-red light prevailed, as if the world outside were black and white, and only this clinic possessed color. It was as though, once Chen Ji stepped inside, he would find shelter from wind and rain, and finally, peace.

Old Head Yao, standing just inside the door, turned and glanced back at Chen Ji. "Throw away what's in your hand. We don't need such things in the clinic."

Chen Ji was startled. He threw away the piece of broken porcelain he had been clutching, still stained with blood. He looked at the clinic's high threshold and Old Head Yao's hunched back. Finally, he stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him and shutting out the black night.

...

...

The clinic was a small *siheyuan*, or courtyard house, separated from the Wangfu by only a single wall. A gnarled apricot tree stood in the center of the courtyard. A stately crow perched on a branch, flying away at their arrival.

Old Head Yao seemed weary. He waved a hand and said, "Go to sleep."

Chen Ji remained standing, unsure where to go. The back of the *siheyuan* had three rooms. He didn’t know which was the correct one. Choosing the wrong room might arouse suspicion.

Old Head Yao saw him hesitate and turned back, a puzzled look on his face. "Why aren't you going to sleep?"

As he spoke, a tall, skinny young man in a long robe emerged from the west wing room. He looked at Chen Ji with disdain. "Chen Ji, you went to deliver medicine and were gone for so long! You even made Master come looking for you... Master, are you tired? I'll boil some water for you to soak your feet before you rest."

Chen Ji silently regarded this... senior brother. How could one person grovel so effectively?

Old Head Yao said, "All of you, go to sleep. Don't be late for tomorrow's morning class."

"Alright," the skinny young man replied crisply, retreating back into the west wing room.

Chen Ji followed him in. The room contained a large shared bed. A burly figure lay farthest in, snoring loudly, completely oblivious to the events that had just transpired outside. The skinny senior brother slept in the middle of the shared bed, his place therefore at the door side.

The apprentices' room was dimly lit. Its wooden windows were old, and aside from a few basins and jars, there was no other furniture.

In the dim light of the room, the skinny senior brother sat up in bed, wrapped in his quilt. His eyes flickered as he stared at Chen Ji, lowering his voice to ask, "What happened? Why were you gone so long?"

"Nothing happened," Chen Ji shook his head, tiredly climbing into the quilt. He quietly gazed at the wooden beam above and the long-established cobweb.

The skinny senior brother turned over and lay down, muttering, "Don't say anything then!"

The room fell silent again, only the sounds of breathing remaining. Only at this moment could Chen Ji properly contemplate his situation. Would Jiao Tu and Yun Yang let him go? Surely not. His display of ability tonight was certainly not something a clinic apprentice should possess, and he had just happened to appear in the home of a Jing Chao spy. How could those two venomous figures not be suspicious?

But why had they let him go? Was it because of his master’s identity, or did the opponents have other plans?

Regardless of the reason, Chen Ji's best course of action now was to remain within the clinic. This clinic adjoined the Wangfu, and his opponents might have scruples about taking action here.

Just as he was thinking, Chen Ji’s pupils suddenly contracted. A cold breath surged from his *dantian*, spreading throughout his body, devouring the warmth in his muscles, bones, and blood.

That was... the icy current that had drilled into his body when Zhou Chengyi died. At the time, he had only felt a chilling sensation, as if it were some kind of illusion. Now, however, it was like a fierce beast trapped within Chen Ji's body, angrily seeking an exit but always unable to break free.

*Bang.*

Chen Ji heard the sound of his own blood flow like an avalanche, as if ice sand, not blood, flowed through his veins. It was as if a sword was hidden within his thin body, or perhaps a dragon that had existed for thousands of years. Chen Ji felt as if he was in a dark, deep pool, desperately being dragged down by a hand.

The cold was bone-piercing. Chen Ji struggled to turn his head and look towards the others in the room, only to find them sleeping soundly, completely unaware of what was happening. He wrapped the quilt tighter, but this cold air originated from within, and even wrapping himself completely offered no help.

Could it be Zhou Chengyi's vengeful spirit clinging to him?

Gradually, before he could think clearly, he curled into a ball and fell into a muddled state.

He didn't know how much time had passed. A loud cock crow echoed from the distant horizon, its sound piercing through layers of thin fog, tearing it apart.

Chen Ji startled awake, sitting up in bed, as if he had just been pulled from water, breathing greedily. His hands and feet were ice cold. What had just happened was no dream; the icy current was still raging.

...

...

Outside the window, thin sunlight was blocked by the white paper of the panes, leaving the room dim. His two senior brothers still lay side-by-side, heads covered, deep asleep. The cock crow seemed not to have affected them; they were still snoring.

Just as Chen Ji was in a daze, the room door creaked open. His master, "Old Head Yao," stood in the doorway, holding a bamboo switch, his face full of disdain. "The cock has crowed and you're still not up! Those who know will say you are apprentices; those who don't will think you are some noble family's legitimate sons!"

As he spoke, he swung the bamboo switch.

Chen Ji struggled to flip himself up and put on his clothes, dodging to the side. "Master, I'm already up!"

Old Head Yao saw the situation and moved to strike the others. A series of wails rang out as the two senior brothers were struck by the bamboo switch, holding their heads and scurrying. "Master, don't hit! We're up! We're up!"

But no matter how the two senior brothers dodged, the bamboo switch always landed on them accurately. The hunched, small old man, though clearly ninety-two years old, was exceptionally agile.

Old Head Yao waved the bamboo switch, chasing the three of them into the courtyard. He said in a cold voice, "*Zhan zhuang*!" (Standing stake).

Chen Ji had originally thought that the morning class at the Taiyi Hall would involve reciting medical texts. He hadn't expected it to be *zhan zhuang*! He turned his head and saw his two senior brothers simultaneously adopting strange postures, not the horse stance, but more like a posture for carrying a giant stone while climbing a mountain ridge.

Before he could secretly learn, *pa!* A crisp sound as the bamboo switch landed on him. The moment the switch contacted his body, a pain like an explosion in his bone seams erupted. Heart-piercing pain, accompanied by a cold, weak feeling, instantly made Chen Ji almost faint. He imitated his two senior brothers, adopting the *zhan zhuang* posture. Old Head Yao then let out a cold laugh. "Don't pretend to be weak in front of me, it's useless. And don't think you can butter me up and I won't beat you."

Saying this, the bamboo switch again fell on the skinny senior brother. "Liu Qu Xing, are you listening to me? What kind of ghost stance is that?"

Liu Qu Xing, his voice tearful, said, "Master, aren't we studying medicine? Why do we have to learn this every day?"

Old Head Yao laughed coldly and struck him with another bamboo switch. "Still dare to talk back? Heaven has three treasures: sun, moon, and stars. People have three treasures: *jing*, *qi*, and *shen*! Without *jing*, *qi*, and *shen*, you can't learn anything!"

In a short quarter of an hour, the three senior brothers were beaten to tears and howls. Chen Ji, too, was being punished for the first time, and among the three brothers, he was the one who received the most strikes because he was most unfamiliar with the posture.

But...

At a certain moment during the *zhan zhuang*, a warm current surged from Chen Ji’s waist and back, slowly counteracting the cold air from last night. This warm current was sometimes present, sometimes not... or rather, when his *zhan zhuang* action was correct, it generated the current; when the action was incorrect, it did not.

Chen Ji followed the feeling and adjusted his posture. When the warm current surged from his waist and back, he maintained the posture without moving. It was as if someone had prepared the correct answers for him, and he just needed to follow along.

Old Head Yao walked to his side at this time, originally intending to casually give him a strike. But then he discovered Chen Ji's posture was perfectly correct, and the hand he had raised inexplicably did not fall...

Later, Old Head Yao simply ignored him, only striking the other two senior brothers.

Chen Ji didn't know what was special about this posture that it could counteract the icy current. He silently observed the appearances of his other senior brothers; they didn't seem to feel anything special about this *zhan zhuang*. Could it be that only he could feel this warm current?

Half an hour passed. The icy current within Chen Ji's body was suppressed back into his *dantian*, motionless. He let out a breath. If this icy current had continued to rage, it was hard to say whether he would have survived the day.

Old Head Yao said with a cold laugh, "Alright, today's morning class is over. Chen Ji has made progress."

The three senior brothers grimaced, rubbing their injuries. If they were to take off their clothes now, their bodies would surely be bruised and purple.

"Hurry up and get yourselves to the main hall door to wait for your families. Today is the day to pay the tuition silver. If I don't see the tuition silver, you can pack your bedding and go home immediately!" Old Head Yao said in a cold voice. "Chen Ji, when your family comes later, remember to ask for money. Last night's lost medicine money was three hundred and twenty wen, not one wen less."

Chen Ji was startled.

Family...

Did he still have family in this world?