Chapter 38: Something’s Not Right
The journey to the capital was smoother than Mu Jiaojiao expected, thanks to Zhan Qiyu’s teacher, Guan Zeyang.
Every post station provided assistance. This was a stark contrast to the struggles of other impoverished scholars. Those who reached the capital examinations were practically in the officialdom, but many, despite years of study and accumulated savings, were reluctant to spend money.
Shancha and Mu Jiaojiao sympathized with these scholars, often requesting the innkeepers to provide hot water and steamed buns.
While this was an act of kindness, Zhan Qiyu felt uncomfortable. He had no issue with Shancha or A Liu doing it, but Mu Jiaojiao’s actions bothered him. She should pay more attention to him. He planned to feign illness again.
But as he fell ill, the post station announced a village ahead was quarantined due to a strange epidemic, requiring a detour.
They were near the capital, a day or two away. A detour would be inconvenient.
A Liu befriended the post station staff to learn more, discovering a strange epidemic in a village. The quarantine prevented infection.
“Let’s detour,” Zhan Qiyu decided, unwilling to take risks.
But Mu Jiaojiao wanted to see the village, not out of heroism, but because she might encounter an acquaintance.
In her past life in the palace, she’d met both good and bad people. One was Imperial Physician Qiu.
When facing difficulties, Shancha sought help from the Imperial Medical Office; everyone was indifferent except this young physician. Later, something happened to Physician Qiu, but Mu Jiaojiao was in no position to help.
She vaguely recalled Physician Qiu being dispatched to handle a plague, becoming infected himself but recovering later with lingering illness. She wanted to help, remembering that the main ingredient in the cure was a herb called humacao (sesame grass). If she could inform him early, she could save innocent lives.
“Go ahead. I have something to do. I’ll catch up later.” She couldn’t explain and made an excuse.
Zhan Qiyu’s brows furrowed; he looked intently at her, seemingly trying to see through her.
The beautiful girl in male attire lowered her head, avoiding his gaze, nervously twisting a rope.
“I’m not in a hurry. I’ll go with you.”
His cold, unwavering tone prevented Mu Jiaojiao from objecting. She knew when he was truly angry. But she couldn’t risk infecting everyone; she compromised, saying she needed to send a letter.
Whether Qiu Bai received the letter was up to fate.
She quickly wrote, asking A Liu to send it before they departed. A Liu left but returned secretly.
The letter quickly reached Zhan Qiyu. It was addressed to an Imperial Physician Qiu, containing only a drawing of a plant—humacao. He recognized it as a medicinal herb.
The letter suggested a cure for the epidemic. He instructed A Liu to deliver it personally. Then, he began to analyze the situation.
First, how did Mu Jiaojiao know this physician, know about the epidemic before it was publicly known, and know this physician was dispatched to treat it?
Everything was unusual. He’d felt a disconnect lately. She knew things a woman from her background shouldn’t know. Her detailed records of supplies were strange. It wasn’t her personality, but her actions.
But he wouldn’t press the issue. He didn’t care who she was, even if she had a unique past, as long as she was his. He would investigate the physician later.
Mu Jiaojiao was restless. After A Liu left, she worried about the letter’s reception. She didn’t want to do nothing for her benefactor.
She paced the post station until A Liu returned in the evening. The village was sealed off; A Liu found a young man studying herbs, assuming he knew the physician. A Liu threw the letter tied to a stone, then shouted from a tree, “Please deliver this to Imperial Physician Qiu.”
The man picked up the letter. A Liu returned, delayed.
Mu Jiaojiao was grateful, “Thank you, A Liu.” She was visibly happy.
Zhan Qiyu observed and noted her actions.
“Let’s leave tomorrow.” It was unsafe to depart now.
Physician Qiu in the village began studying humacao; he didn’t know the source of the information but it was critical. He represented the Imperial Medical Office and needed to act fast.
He focused on creating a cure. After administering humacao medicine, the patients’ itching subsided. He requested more humacao. He had a cure.
The next morning, news arrived of a potential cure. Mu Jiaojiao was relieved. She’d done something. This was repayment for being saved.
In the carriage, she gazed at the scenery, oblivious to the sharp gaze upon her.
Zhan Qiyu, hearing the news, understood Mu Jiaojiao’s involvement but couldn’t understand how. Before achieving success, he needed to secure her. She might meet unexpected people in the capital. If someone else wooed her, he might be too late.
Shancha noticed nothing. Her Miss was always capable.
They traveled another day, exhausted from the bumpy ride. They reached an official post station. Guan Zeyang was waiting.
Seeing Mu Jiaojiao, he wondered why she was there. But seeing Zhan Qiyu, he felt a surge of affection for his talented student and did not blame him, inviting them to test his knowledge.
Zhan Li arrived late and missed the teacher. She didn’t understand; she’d heard the scholar was unmarried and disliked women.
With Zhan Qiyu gone, they prepared to rest. A Liu prepared bathwater and food.
Late that night, Zhan Qiyu returned, weary, seemingly distressed. Guan Zeyang had analyzed the court’s factions: the Wang, Zhang, and Li factions, explaining their complex interrelations.
More perplexing, Guan was arranging Zhan Qiyu’s marriage after his success: a wife and two concubines, daughters of ministers. Guan hadn’t considered Zhan Qiyu’s preferences.
Zhan Qiyu didn’t object, implicitly agreeing. Guan was satisfied; he believed his student would soon rise.
But Zhan Qiyu wouldn’t be manipulated; he’d choose his own wife.
Zhan Qiyu bathed, ate, and reviewed the court situation. He wanted more than Guan expected. Since the pie was already divided, he would create a new one, one he alone would eat.
At the tallest building in the capital, adjacent to the palace, the director of the Astronomical Observatory looked at the stars, stroking his beard. “The Wenqu star and the Ziwei star overlap. An exceptional talent is coming. Mingnan’s destiny may change.” A shooting star streaked across the sky, briefly dividing it in two.
