Chapter 62
Li Yujun was lured by a jar of medicinal stew. After a second of hesitation, he willingly walked into the military hospital. As soon as he entered, the faint, distinctive smell of medicine made him frown.

Stepping out of the elevator, he ran into the young nurse assigned to him. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her tone carried a hint of familiarity. “Captain Li, where have you been? Hurry back to your room—I need to change your dressing.”

Li Yujun paused, politely nodded, and said, “Could you come by the room in an hour to change the dressing?” He had vaguely caught the scent of meat wafting through the medicinal air. With quick, purposeful strides, he walked to his private room. When he opened the door, Chang Xiaoyuan was sitting in a chair reading a newspaper. Seeing her son, she slapped the table with helplessness. “If it weren’t for this stew, I doubt you’d have come back.”

Li Yujun took off his uniform and replied seriously, “I’m injured and need nourishment. Congee isn’t good for recovery.”

His perfect answer shut Chang Xiaoyuan up. “I was going to wait till your wound healed before giving you tonic. Besides, the doctor told you to watch your diet.”

“He’s a Western doctor—what does he know about dietary restrictions? That’s clearly a TCM issue.” Li Yujun washed his hands, sat at the table, pulled the clay pot from the bag, and instead of serving the blood-nourishing pigeon soup into a bowl, began spooning it straight from the pot.

The ingredients Qian Jianing had bought from Xiantao.com were all provided by minor immortals and celestial children from the lowest levels of the Immortal Realm. They lived in remote parts of the realm where the soil, water, and spiritual energy were all quite sparse. But even that tiny bit of spiritual energy was a powerful tonic for humans, with no adverse effects.

The pigeon used was a squab raised for thirteen and a half days—tender flesh and small bones. With wolfberries, red dates, and longan added to the mix, the soup gave off a fragrant and sweet aroma. Yet the taste wasn’t cloying; instead, the meat flavor was rich and perfect for Li Yujun’s palate.

Walking in from the biting cold into a warm room and being served a steaming jar of pigeon soup—it was the epitome of comfort. The broth was rich, the meat tender, and the pigeon fell off the bone at a touch. The unique silkiness of squab filled his mouth with umami delight.

Two squabs had gone into the jar. Li Yujun polished off the meat and soup in less than twenty minutes, even eating the longan and dates—uncharacteristically. He claimed they still had a meaty flavor.

Putting down the jar, a rare expression of satisfaction appeared on Li Yujun’s usually stern face, softening his features and making him look unexpectedly gentle. Chang Xiaoyuan couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke his face. It had been nearly twenty years since he’d looked this adorable, and she was momentarily nostalgic.

Li Yujun’s expression turned serious again. “Mom, I’m twenty-five.”

Chang Xiaoyuan reluctantly pulled her hand back. “You keep scowling like your father all day—be careful no one wants to marry you.”

Li Yujun took off his wool sweater, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and leaned back in the chair, looking relaxed and lazy. “Didn’t you still marry Dad, though?”

Chang Xiaoyuan immediately defended her husband. “Your dad wasn’t like this when he was young. He smiled a lot and was sweet-talking. Otherwise, how would I have fallen for him?”

Li Yujun frowned thoughtfully. “Then why does he always look so fierce now?” He looked at her meaningfully. “Mom, you should ask him if he’s dissatisfied with life or something.”

Chang Xiaoyuan, both amused and exasperated, stood and tapped his forehead. “Stop trying to stir things up between me and your dad. If he weren’t a little fierce, how could he handle you three little rascals? Alright, you’ve had your soup and meat. Time to change your dressing and get your injection.”

Li Yujun’s face darkened again. Captain Li, who feared neither bullets nor blades, absolutely hated injections—more than anything else!

Chang Xiaoyuan pressed the call button by the bed. Soon, the young nurse came in with a cart, followed by Dr. Wang with a patient file in hand. He looked at the soldier who followed orders precisely in battle but was stubbornly uncooperative in the hospital. “Your wound is deep and hard to heal. Leaving the hospital without permission yesterday could easily cause it to tear.”

Li Yujun looked calm, as if he wasn’t the one who’d reopened the wound, bled out, and passed out yesterday.

Layer by layer, the bandages on his chest were removed, revealing the hideous wound. The doctor leaned in for a look—just as he suspected, the stitches had torn away from the flesh. But oddly, the skin hadn’t split open again and instead showed signs of healing.

Noticing the white powder around the wound, the doctor frowned and asked Chang Xiaoyuan, “What’s this?”

Wanting to preserve her son’s dignity, Chang Xiaoyuan replied vaguely, “Yujun had to leave suddenly yesterday, the wound reopened and bled a little. A doctor we know helped apply some medicine and dressed it.”

She pulled out the hemostatic powder Qian Jianing had given her the night before. “This is what he used.”

The doctor took it, sniffed, and was hit with a strong herbal scent. Though trained in Western medicine and unfamiliar with traditional remedies, he could clearly tell this one worked better than the hospital’s standard medication.

“This looks quite effective. You can choose to keep using this or go back to the hospital’s meds.” He placed the bottle on the table.

Li Yujun looked at the bottle. “Let’s go with the powder—I think it works better.”

Disinfection, application, re-bandaging—the large muscles on his chest were once again covered up. The nurse hung up the IV and pulled out a long, thin needle from the tube. Li Yujun disliked the feeling of being immobilized in bed, and he hated the goosebump-inducing sight of needles even more. He turned to the doctor, visibly displeased. “Dr. Wang, when can I be discharged?”

Dr. Wang closed the file and looked at him seriously. “You’ll need at least five more days of anti-inflammatory injections. I heard from your mother that you had a fever after sneaking out yesterday.”

Recalling the incident, Li Yujun put on his usual blank face. “That was an accident, and the fever only lasted a little over two hours. Besides, my wound looks better now. Given my physical condition, I think I could be discharged today.”

Military hospitals tend to have a higher percentage of uncooperative patients, so Dr. Wang was used to this and simply shook his head. “I’m the doctor—I decide.”

For the first time, Li Yujun was left speechless.

Dr. Wang nodded at him. “If you need to leave the hospital next time, go to the nurse’s station and fill out a leave form. If you go without my permission again, I’ll report it to the hospital director and have him inform your superiors. Also, the logistics department asked me to remind you—please stop climbing the drainage pipes. That’s government property. If you break it, you’ll have to pay for it.”

Li Yujun’s face stayed stoic: “…”

When he finally walked out of the hospital gates, he immediately had Li Yufeng drive him to Qian Xiaomi’s private kitchen. Unfortunately, the doors were shut tight, with a sign reading: “Closed for the New Year. Business temporarily suspended.”

Li Yujun frowned at the door, deep in thought.

Li Yufeng carefully offered a suggestion. “Bro, want to try passing out again?”
—

On the 25th day of the twelfth lunar month, as the New Year approached, Qian Jianing hung the “closed for holiday” sign and joined her family in tidying up the house. Honestly, there wasn’t much to do—thanks to the Immortal Realm system, every nook and cranny of the house, inside and out, was spotless. Even under beds and cabinets, there wasn’t a speck of dust.

Because family members were visiting, Qian Jianing had added mops and brooms to the back courtyard. Li Wanzhen was used to cleaning twice a day, but the system still did a round after everyone went to bed, leaving even her, a cleaning enthusiast, at a loss for things to do.

Though the restaurant was closed, Old Master Dong’s medicinal meals couldn’t stop. The 25th was also his scheduled pulse-check day. Qian Jianing, holding the meal container, got into the car sent by the Dong family.

Old Master Dong had been taking Qian Jianing’s medicine for nearly a month. Yesterday was his follow-up exam, and the results were surprisingly good. With the herbal primer from Xiantao.com and the ingredients purchased from the site used in his daily meals, his recovery was even better than that of Teacher Sun back in the day.

In just a month, the ascites completely disappeared, all indicators improved, and to everyone’s surprise, the tumor even shrank. Although it was only a slight reduction, for the Dong family, this was tremendous news. The greatest change for Old Master Dong was that his pain had significantly lessened, he felt stronger, and he was no longer in a constant daze, wanting to sleep all the time like before.

As soon as Qian Jianing arrived at the Dong residence, Dong Bocheng excitedly brought out the medical report. “Doctor Qian, look at my father’s report. Even the doctor said it’s a miracle—all thanks to you.”

Qian Jianing took the report and read through it, smiling as she said, “The results are even better than I expected. The medicinal diet played a bigger role in the treatment than I imagined. Before, I made this medicinal diet once a week for Teacher Sun, and her recovery was much slower than the Old Master’s.”

Hearing this, Dong Bocheng grinned in satisfaction. “The medicinal diet might be pricey, but ever since the Old Master started eating it, his appetite improved, he feels energized, and he keeps telling me it’s worth every penny—worried I won’t keep ordering it for him.”

Old Master Dong was watching TV in the room and, hearing that, retorted, “I’m richer than you. If you won’t buy it for me, I’ll buy it myself.”

Qian Jianing quickly laughed, “Mr. Dong already ordered a year’s worth for you, so just enjoy it. Old Master, are you done watching TV? Come over and let me check your pulse.”

Previously, considering the Old Master’s condition, Qian Jianing focused on enhancing his overall resistance. Now that his constitution had significantly improved, the next step was to strengthen the efficacy of the medicine. After explaining the situation, Qian Jianing rewrote the prescription. In addition to Suhua, she added a new herb called Baiwei, but only included seven pieces—one per dose.

Seeing how little there was, Dong Bocheng carefully put the medicine packs away. “This is another rare herb, isn’t it?”

Qian Jianing smiled. “It might still be found in remote places—just very rare. For the second treatment phase, use two pieces of Suhua per pack. After a month, we’ll recheck the tumor’s size and evaluate the results.”

Dong Bocheng recalled that a single piece of Suhua cost 100,000 yuan, and nearly thirty pieces had already been used for the Old Master. Now they’d be doubling that next month. He suddenly felt that the 1.5 million yuan treatment fee was not expensive at all—if anything, it seemed like a bargain. After all, he was paying Qian Jianing to save his father’s life. Was 1.5 million expensive for a life? Not at all—even doubling or tripling it would be worth it.

Feeling he had to do something to be worthy of the Suhua that was brewed daily, Dong Bocheng invited Qian Jianing to the tea room, personally washing his hands, boiling water, and making tea.

After rinsing the teapot and cups with boiling water, he scooped out the tea leaves with a wooden spoon. As the faint aroma of tea filled the air, Qian Jianing instinctively said, “Da Hong Pao.”

Dong Bocheng chuckled. “I only knew Doctor Qian was a great cook—I didn’t know you also understood tea.”

After drinking thousands of cups of tea over dozens of nights, Qian Jianing recalled those mornings spent sprinting to the bathroom and grimaced. “I studied it for a while recently, so I know a little.”

After rinsing the leaves again, Dong Bocheng steeped them for five seconds before pouring the tea into a cup the size of a walnut and handing it to Qian Jianing.

By now, Qian Jianing had developed proper tea-drinking habits under the guidance of the Tea Immortal. He first examined the color—it was a bright amber, indicating high quality—then inhaled the aroma, and finally tasted the tea.

He held the tea in his mouth briefly before swallowing and smiled. “Mr. Dong, you actually have Da Hong Pao from the rock walls of Jiulongke—what a rarity.”

“You can tell just from a sip? That’s more than just ‘knowing a little.’” Dong Bocheng quickly refilled his cup. “You’re the first person who could taste the origin of this tea.”

Qian Jianing smiled. “Such a rare tea is unforgettable once tasted. I happened to have tried it before. I didn’t expect to have it again here at your place.”

Dong Bocheng smiled wryly. “A gram of this tea costs more than a gram of gold. I went to great lengths to get these few ounces, but I just really like this kind of tea.”

Qian Jianing drank a few more sips and thought the flavor was slightly inferior to what she had tasted at the Tea Immortal’s place. After a moment, she realized it was due to the water. “When I head back later, I’ll have your driver bring you two liters of water. Try brewing the tea with that and see how it tastes.” After a pause, she added, “It’s the same water I use for the Old Master’s medicinal diets.”

Dong Bocheng immediately knew it had to be good and thanked her repeatedly. After three cups, he steered the conversation to business. “It’s all thanks to Doctor Qian’s extraordinary skill that the Old Master is recovering. As you know, everyone gets sick sooner or later. Some of my friends’ families are also dealing with illnesses—would it be alright if I recommended you to them?”

Qian Jianing held her cup and thought for a moment before replying, “Not everyone trusts me the way you do. Many people see my age, find out I’m only a college freshman, and assume I’m not capable. Why should I bother courting such disdain?”

She took another sip and continued, “Actually, Mr. Dong, you probably didn’t fully believe in me at first either—you just had no other options.”

It was hard to lie in front of a sharp person. Dong Bocheng recalled the past and felt a deep sense of gratitude. “I’m lucky I chose to trust you.”

Qian Jianing smiled faintly. “I have a few basic principles when it comes to treating patients. If someone has done heartless things in life, I won’t save them no matter how much they offer. There’s no use trying to hide it either—it always shows in a person’s face and aura. You can tell good from bad at a glance. And I also won’t treat people who don’t believe in me. Mr. Dong, you know that my treatments and medicinal diets aren’t cheap, and they don’t show effects in ten days or half a month. I don’t have time to argue with people and let it disrupt my work. So all things considered, there’s no need to go out of your way to recommend me. If someone genuinely asks, you can introduce me then.”

“Understood.” Dong Bocheng poured the second steeping of tea into their cups. “Good wine doesn’t fear a hidden alley. Even if I don’t recommend you, once my father recovers, people will come flocking to you with money in hand. In this world, you can buy many things, but life is not one of them.” His tone turned serious. “But now, through you, we have a chance to buy life. I think anyone with a brain wouldn’t turn that down.”

Qian Jianing smiled and shook his head. “You overestimate me. I can’t cure every illness.” Just as she said this, she recalled the life-saving pills granted by the Daoist Master of Medicine. After a moment’s thought, she gave Dong Bocheng a small hint. “But my teacher can—he just rarely shows himself.”

Dong Bocheng had never known who Qian Jianing’s master was. In Zibo City, some said she studied under a famous doctor from the Imperial Capital; others claimed her master was a mysterious old Taoist; some believed it was a hidden sage. But none of the rumors were confirmed. Even with his extensive connections, Dong Bocheng hadn’t been able to find out the truth.

Of course, that investigation was before he hired Qian Jianing. After paying the 500,000 yuan deposit, he stopped prying into her background. To him, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was whether she could cure the Old Master. Whether she had innate talent or guidance from a master—it was none of his business.

After five steepings of tea, Qian Jianing took her leave. Dong Bocheng had his driver take her home. Sure enough, the driver returned with two liters of water.

Given how precious the Da Hong Pao was, Dong Bocheng usually only drank it once every five or six days. But he worried the water would lose its freshness if stored too long, so after lunch, he invited the Old Master to join him for tea. Since the water was rare and limited, he didn’t even use it to rinse the tea set—he only boiled a pot when it came time to brew the tea and poured it cautiously into the teapot.

As the hot water released a fragrant aroma, Dong Bocheng couldn’t resist sipping it. The flavor was indeed a step above before. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent into his lungs, and murmured, “This young Doctor Qian is no ordinary person. I even had people fetch water from Yuquan Mountain to go with this tea, but it still doesn’t compare to what she brought.”

Old Master Dong was half-reclining on a lounge chair, with a teacup on the table beside him. “Young Doctor Qian is no ordinary person. Sooner or later, she’ll soar like a golden dragon. The fact that our family can be connected to her at this time is a blessing. You must make sure to maintain a good relationship with her. Especially Mingfa and the others—make sure they show her the utmost respect and courtesy whenever they meet her. Tell them this: anyone who dares offend young Doctor Qian will never step foot in my courtyard again.”

Dong Bocheng nodded. “They’ve actually done well in that regard. It’s Lan Zhu who’s worse than a few of my nephews. The first time she met Doctor Qian, she completely offended her. I haven’t even dared let her come to the old house lately.”

“A little cold shoulder will do her good—she’s full of schemes,” Old Master Dong said, taking a sip of tea and adding, “Doctor Qian just arrived in the Imperial Capital and hasn’t established her network yet. It’s inevitable there’ll be small-minded people who look down on others. Though these things may not be serious, they can still be upsetting. If anything like that comes up and you can handle it, help her out. Don’t let trivial matters ruin her mood.”

Dong Bocheng agreed immediately. After they finished tea, he sent people to investigate whether anyone was actually bold enough to try and damage Doctor Qian’s reputation. His men returned with some real findings: a few days ago, a third-rate tabloid had tried to threaten Qian Jianing but failed. So they resorted to smearing the reputation of the Home-style Cuisine Restaurant in the paper. But the author had terrible luck—after leaving Qian’s restaurant, he fell and broke both legs, and he’s still bedridden.

As it turned out, a cultural affairs official responsible for overseeing media just happened to be dining at the restaurant that day and witnessed the whole attempted extortion and fabricated news story. That very same day, the newspaper was shut down.

Dong Bocheng was a bit surprised upon hearing the news. “Doctor Qian really is someone blessed with extraordinary fortune—even the heavens are on her side.”

His subordinate reported the details he’d gathered: “I heard from people who were dining there that day that Boss Qian gave that fake reporter a reading, saying he was fated for a bloody disaster, prison, and a life of hardship. The bloody disaster came true right away. The paper was shut down, and the medical bills drained his wallet. Things are already getting tough for him. As for the prison part—no one knows where that might come in.”

Dong Bocheng lightly tapped the table with his index finger. “Doctor Qian probably isn’t the first person that guy’s tried to threaten. Dig into his past—gather evidence of blackmail and extortion. We’ll help speed up his journey to prison by installing an elevator.”