The long street was silent, with rows of gray-roofed buildings standing at different heights, their curved eaves resembling frozen waves in the dark ocean of the night.
Old Yao walked slowly ahead, hands clasped behind his back, while Chen Ji followed silently behind.
He had many questions he wanted to ask—like where the Northern Continent of Luzhou was, whether Old Yao knew a young man named Li Qingniao, and what the Forty-Nine Heavens were.
But he knew he couldn’t ask.
He could only bury those questions deep in his heart.
Old Yao suddenly spoke, puzzled, “You’re usually as chatty as a torn piece of cloth. Why so quiet today?”
Chen Ji’s heart tightened. “It’s because of what happened at the Zhou residence. You told me not to bring it up.”
Old Yao asked abruptly, “Did you kill someone?”
Chen Ji remained silent for a long time before answering, “No.”
Old Yao let out a soft chuckle and didn’t press further.
For the rest of the journey, the old man truly didn’t ask about the events of the night, as if nothing had happened at all.
After walking for about an hour, Chen Ji finally saw the grand vermilion gates of the Jing Prince’s residence in the distance.
Guards stood at the entrance, holding halberds and clad in iron armor.
Stone lions flanked the gates, exuding an imposing aura.
Under the gray eaves hung two white lanterns with the words “Jing Prince’s Residence” written on them.
Above the gate was a plaque inscribed with golden characters: “Upright and Honorable.”
Old Yao didn’t enter through the main gate.
Instead, he led Chen Ji to the side of the residence, where a small clinic named “Taiping” stood, tightly nestled against the prince’s residence.
The clinic’s plaque read, “No Credit Given.”
Old Yao pushed open the clinic’s door and stepped over the high threshold.
Inside, a kerosene lamp burned on the long counter.
Outside was the dark street and night, while inside was a warm, orange glow.
It was as if the world was black and white, and only this clinic had color.
It felt like as long as Chen Ji stepped inside, he could find shelter and peace here.
Old Yao stood inside the door, glancing back at Chen Ji. “Throw away whatever you’re holding. We don’t need that in the clinic.”
Chen Ji was startled.
He opened his hand and let go of the shard of porcelain he had been clutching.
The shard was still stained with blood.
He looked at the high threshold of the clinic and Old Yao’s hunched back.
Finally, he stepped inside, closed the door, and shut out the night.
The clinic was a small courtyard house, separated from the prince’s residence by just a wall.
In the center of the courtyard stood a gnarled apricot tree.
At the top of the tree perched a large crow, which flew away as soon as it saw people approaching.
Old Yao seemed tired.
He waved his hand and said, “Go to sleep.”
But Chen Ji stood still.
Where was he supposed to sleep? There were three rooms in the back of the courtyard house.
He didn’t know which one was the right choice.
If he chose the wrong one, it might raise suspicions.
Seeing that Chen Ji hadn’t moved, Old Yao turned back, suspicious. “Why aren’t you going to sleep?”
As soon as he spoke, a tall, thin young man in a long robe emerged from the west wing.
He looked at Chen Ji with disdain and said, “Chen Ji, you took so long just to deliver some medicine, and you even made Master go looking for you… Master, you must be tired. Let me boil some water for you to soak your feet before you rest.”
Chen Ji silently watched this… senior brother.
How could someone flatter so specifically?
Old Yao said, “All of you, go to sleep. Don’t delay tomorrow’s morning lessons.”
“Got it,” the tall, thin young man said briskly before retreating back into the west wing.
Chen Ji followed him inside.
The room had a large communal bed.
At the far end lay a burly figure, snoring loudly, completely unaware of what had just happened outside.
The tall senior brother slept in the middle of the bed, while Chen Ji’s spot was by the door.
The apprentice dormitory had old wooden windows and was sparsely furnished, with only a few pots and jars lying around.
In the dim light, the tall senior brother sat on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, his eyes gleaming as he stared at Chen Ji.
He whispered, “What happened? Why did it take so long?”
“Nothing happened,” Chen Ji shook his head, exhausted.
He climbed into bed and lay there, staring at the wooden beams on the ceiling and the cobwebs that had been there for ages.
The tall senior brother rolled over and lay down, muttering, “Fine, don’t tell me!”
The room fell silent again, leaving only the sound of breathing.
Only now could Chen Ji stop and think about his situation: Would Jiao Tu and Yun Yang let him go? Definitely not.
The abilities he had shown tonight were far beyond those of a mere clinic apprentice, and he had coincidentally appeared at the home of a spy from the Jing Dynasty.
How could those two not suspect him?
But why had they let him go? Was it because of his master’s status, or did they have other plans?
Whatever the reason, Chen Ji’s best option now was to stay in the clinic.
The clinic was right next to the prince’s residence, so they would likely think twice before doing anything.
As he pondered this, Chen Ji’s pupils suddenly contracted.
A cold energy was spreading from his dantian, devouring the warmth in his muscles, bones, and blood.
It was… the icy current that had entered his body when Zhou Chengyi died.
At the time, it had just felt cold, almost like an illusion.
But now it was like a ferocious beast trapped inside his body, angrily searching for a way out but unable to escape.
Bang.
Chen Ji heard the sound of his blood flowing like an avalanche, as if it was no longer blood but icy sand coursing through his veins.
His thin body felt like it was hiding a sword—or perhaps a dragon that had existed for thousands of years.
Chen Ji felt as if he were in a dark, deep pool, being dragged to the bottom by a hand.
The cold was bone-chilling.
Chen Ji struggled to turn and look at the others in the room, but they were all sound asleep, oblivious.
He wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, but the cold was coming from within.
Even if he covered himself completely, it wouldn’t help.
Was he being haunted by Zhou Chengyi’s vengeful spirit?
Gradually, before he could figure it out, he curled up into a ball and fell into a dazed state.
After what felt like an eternity, a distant rooster’s crow pierced through the layers of mist, tearing it apart.
Chen Ji woke up with a start, gasping for air as if he had just been pulled out of water.
His hands and feet were icy cold.
What had just happened wasn’t a dream.
The icy current was still raging inside him.
Outside the window, the faint sunlight was blocked by the paper window, leaving the room dim.
The two senior brothers were still sound asleep, snoring away, unaffected by the rooster’s crow.
Just as Chen Ji was lost in thought, the door creaked open.
His master, Old Yao, stood at the doorway, holding a bamboo stick and looking at them with disdain. “The rooster’s crowed, and you’re still in bed? People might think you’re the eldest sons of some noble family, not apprentices.”
With that, he swung the bamboo stick.
Chen Ji scrambled to get up and put on his clothes, dodging to the side. “Master, I’m already up!”
Old Yao turned to the others, and soon the room was filled with cries of pain as the two senior brothers were whipped by the bamboo stick. “Master, stop! We’re up, we’re up!”
But no matter how they tried to dodge, the bamboo stick always found its mark.
The hunched old man, despite being ninety-two years old, was surprisingly agile.
Old Yao herded the three of them into the courtyard with the bamboo stick and said coldly, “Stand in position!”
Chen Ji had thought the morning lesson at the clinic would involve reciting medical texts, but it turned out to be standing in a specific posture? He glanced at his senior brothers, who were both in a strange stance—not a horse stance, but more like they were carrying a heavy boulder up a mountain ridge.
Before he could try to copy them, the bamboo stick landed on him with a sharp crack.
The moment the stick made contact with his body, it felt like pain exploded from within his bones.
The searing pain, combined with the cold and weakness, almost made Chen Ji faint.
He tried to mimic his senior brothers’ posture, while Old Yao sneered, “Don’t play weak here. It won’t work. And don’t think flattery will save you from a beating.”
With that, the bamboo stick landed on the tall senior brother. “Liu Quxing, am I talking to you? What kind of nonsense stance is that?”
Liu Quxing cried out, “Master, aren’t we here to study medicine? Why are we doing this every day?”
Old Yao sneered and struck him again with the bamboo stick. “Talking back? The heavens have three treasures: the sun, the moon, and the stars. Humans have three treasures: essence, energy, and spirit! Without essence, energy, and spirit, you’ll never learn anything!”
In just a quarter of an hour, the three apprentices were howling in pain from the bamboo stick.
Chen Ji, who had never been physically punished before, was the one who got hit the most because he was the least familiar with the posture.
But then, at one point during the stance, a warm current surged from Chen Ji’s lower back, slowly counteracting the cold from the night before.
This warm current came and went—or rather, it appeared when his posture was correct and disappeared when it wasn’t.
Chen Ji adjusted his posture based on the feeling, maintaining it when the warm current appeared.
It was as if someone had prepared the answer for him, and all he had to do was copy it.
Old Yao walked over to him, intending to give him a whack with the bamboo stick, but when he saw Chen Ji’s perfect posture, he couldn’t find a reason to strike.
Eventually, Old Yao simply ignored him and focused on whipping the other two.
Chen Ji didn’t know what was so special about this posture that it could counteract the icy current.
He silently observed his senior brothers, who didn’t seem to feel any benefit from the stance.
Was he the only one who could feel this warm current?
After half an hour, the icy current in Chen Ji’s body was suppressed and returned to his dantian, lying dormant.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
If the icy current had continued to rage, he might not have survived the day.
Old Yao sneered, “Alright, morning lesson’s over. Chen Ji, you’ve improved.”
The three apprentices rubbed their sore bodies, knowing that if they took off their clothes, they’d be covered in bruises.
“Get to the main hall and wait for your families. Today’s the day to pay the tuition fees. If I don’t see the money, you’re packing up and going home!” Old Yao said coldly. “Chen Ji, when your family comes, remember to ask for the money. The medicine you lost last night cost three hundred and twenty coins. Not a single coin less.”
Chen Ji was stunned.
Family…
Did he even have family in this world?
(End of Chapter)