Once the continuous autumn rain stopped, this small riverside town fully entered autumn, desolate in every direction.
On the sickbed, Zhao Wan Niang's throat was bitter. Having passed through death's door twice, she now looked back on the past as if watching another person.
A clamor of voices outside indicated another patient had arrived.
The apprentice named Ji'an bustled about, and the back courtyard began boiling water again. The lowered bamboo curtain swayed, blown open by the wind, and the suffocating smoke seemed omnipresent.
By the well, a young girl was bent over, scrubbing clothes. She heard the heavy footsteps of a man from afar.
The footsteps grew closer, and Zhang Tu hurried in.
Having taken care of business for a few days, he had made time today specifically to see Wan Niang. Who would have thought that as soon as he entered the courtyard, he would see that small figure burying her head in washing clothes!
He couldn't believe it. Looking at the familiar back, he lost control of his emotions and rushed over, cursing, "These people are inhuman, making a sick, weak woman do such rough work!"
With his strength, he nearly broke her waist, startling her into jumping up.
"You've mistaken me!" She punched him hard. "Let go!"
Zhang Tu was stunned for a moment. Looking at her mask and hearing her voice, he suddenly realized this was the female physician from the clinic and quickly let go.
"Sorry, from behind, you look just like Wan Niang..." He stepped back a few paces, then rushed into the room.
The curtain was lifted. The girl on the bed was still languid. Zhang Tu's joy was short-lived.
He scratched his head, slowly approached, and sat by the edge of the bed, telling her about mistaking the physician as a joke.
But Zhao Wan Niang seemed deaf. Finally, losing patience, she glared at him coldly. "Have you said enough?"
"Not yet. How have you been feeling lately?"
"Not good. About to die."
Seeing she hadn't taken her medicine, Zhang Tu urged, "Your body is your own. Are you satisfied only when you've worn yourself to death? Drink the medicine. When you're better, I'll send you home."
Zhao Wan Niang no longer believed him at all. No matter what he said, she refused to drink. Zhang Tu was so angry he could only fret helplessly. Finally, when the old doctor had a moment, Zhang Tu grabbed him like a last straw, begging him to save Wan Niang.
The old doctor had earned some silver from him and knew exactly what was going on. Seeing Zhang Tu's infatuation, he could only console him briefly and then asked him to leave.
He had heard the commotion in the back courtyard earlier. Now, looking at Zhao Wan Niang's face, he couldn't help asking quietly, "Miss, do you have any sisters at home?"
Zhao Wan Niang shook her head.
The old doctor thought for a moment, stroking his beard, and asked again, "What about cousins?"
Zhao Wan Niang shook her head again.
"How strange."
"What's so strange?"
The old doctor didn't answer. Seeing the medicine on the table had gone cold, he sighed. "Your mother had only one child, you, her precious daughter. You must take care of your health. If not for anything else, think of your parents and drink this medicine. You are still young."
The girl on the bed remained melancholy. So the old doctor left.
The clothes in the courtyard were all hanging on the line, a dark mass pressing down like storm clouds.
"Ping'an, that brute didn't hurt you, did he?"
The female physician, Ping'an, was hanging clothes. She shook her head, still indignant. "Blind fool. His lady has been lying in bed for days, and he suddenly grabbed me. Scared me so much I nearly stabbed him."
"With his size and strength, don't hurt yourself. Next time he comes, I'll have Ji'an talk to him. Stay away from him. Speaking of which, that young lady really does look like you..."
He Ping'an understood what he meant and deliberately brushed it off. "Maybe we were from the same family long ago, fate bringing us together. But it's been so many years. Once she's gone, I'll take off this wretched mask. I've been suffocating these past few days."
The old doctor laughed.
She had been at the clinic for several days, quick and steady, and what's more, she knew some pharmacology—a good helper. That boy Ji'an seemed to have taken a liking to her. If only she would reveal her background.
It was still autumn. The old doctor calculated his savings, planning to wait until spring when the girl had settled in, then arrange a wedding for his nephew Ji'an.
But this night would dash the elder's plans.
On a clear, silent, long night, the clatter of horse hooves trod upon the bleak moonlight. No human voice was heard. At the door, there was only a steady, unhurried knock.
Coming to a medical clinic in the dead of night with such an attitude clearly meant ill intent.
Ji'an, being impulsive, stepped out from behind the counter and went to check. He removed half the door panel and was suddenly met with a blade at his throat.
The one drawing the blade had a delicate appearance, wore a black scholar's robe, and was tall and thin. Behind him was a youth in white, a smile on his lips, who said, "Excuse me."
"What do you want?!"
"I've come to fetch my wife."