In Xie Yushu’s estimation, a round trip from Qianwan Village to Songwan Town took at least half an hour. She noticed He Chao’s condition worsening and was about to step outside to see if they’d arrived when she heard Sun Wuyou’s voice growing closer, calling out.
“I’m here! I’m here!”
Xie Yushu turned toward the entrance—they’d made it in just half an hour, rushing all the way.
Sun Wuyou burst through the door with Guizhi, her eyes landing on Xie Yushu as she panted, “Miss Xie, I’m here!”
Of the three, Sun Wuyou had run the fastest. He Xi had pointed out the direction and then been left behind by the two. Sun Wuyou had sprinted at full speed.
Guizhi and He Xi caught up shortly after.
Sun Wuyou had been in the inn with Guizhi, poring over medical texts, when the innkeeper came upstairs to tell her a little girl was asking for her by name.
She went downstairs and listened to the girl’s urgent message—that Xie Yushu needed help. She immediately followed the instructions: had Guizhi grab the medicine box, hired a fast donkey cart, and the three of them rushed over as quickly as they could.
On the cart, He Xi explained to the two guests that her brother had injured his hand and Miss Xie was watching over him, having sent her to fetch them for help.
Inside He Chao’s cramped room, Xie Yushu pulled Sun Wuyou over and showed her the wound, pleading, “Fifth Miss, please take a look.”
Sun Wuyou was about to examine the patient’s injury when Xie Yushu softly addressed her as “Fifth Miss.” She turned to look at her, her eyes glistening.
That was a term of endearment reserved for close family—did this mean Miss Xie already considered her a dear friend?
Overwhelmed with emotion, Sun Wuyou resolved to heal little He Xi’s brother properly.
Since Guizhi had called Sun Wuyou the Fifth Miss of the Sun family, Xie Yushu figured “Fifth Miss” was the right address. So why was Sun Wuyou looking at her so strangely?
Was she having another one of those moments that went beyond Xie Yushu’s understanding? She didn’t get it.
Healers had no gender restrictions—they didn’t observe male-female taboos. Sun Wuyou took He Chao’s hand directly and closely examined the wound.
The puncture site had grown worse—turning purple, with pus already seeping out after barely a day.
She’d heard from He Xi on the cart what had caused the injury, and she felt He Chao’s forehead.
He Chao wasn’t just running a low fever—his body was trembling slightly, shivering in the summer heat, and he was already delirious.
He Chao’s father stood nearby, holding He Xi’s hand, watching the healer work—both of them filled with deep worry and fear.
“Doctor Sun, can my brother still be saved?” He Xi asked, fighting back tears.
She’d nearly cried on the way to Songwan Town, telling herself over and over: Brother will be fine. Don’t cry. She’d held it together all the way.
Now, seeing the tense atmosphere in the room, her panic was rising.
“He can,” Sun Wuyou said, her usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by a serious, professional air.
“Guizhi, the medicine box.”
Guizhi opened the box beside the bed, revealing various medicine bottles, a full set of silver needles, and several finely crafted small silver knives.
Sun Wuyou had Guizhi repeatedly sterilize a small silver knife with the fire starter they carried. Once Guizhi finished, Sun Wuyou took the knife.
With a deft touch, she pressed the sharp blade against He Chao’s rough, dark-skinned palm, found the right spot, and swiftly opened the wound. Blood and yellow pus slowly oozed out.
She examined it carefully, not missing any detail. Soon, she spotted something like a piece of sharp seafood shell embedded in the flesh. She had Guizhi fetch a heated medicinal tweezer, and indeed extracted a small, blackened fragment of shrimp head.
Guizhi, equally skilled, quickly took a clean cloth from the medicine box, dusted it with a hemostatic and anti-swelling powder, and handed it to her young mistress.
Sun Wuyou placed the medicated cloth over He Chao’s hand and tied it securely—not too tight, not too loose, so it wouldn’t fall off.
“The prescription.”
Guizhi, working in perfect sync, took out her brush and ink from her satchel and began writing.
“Boil Huangbai (Phellodendron) and Gancao (licorice root) into a decoction. Rinse the wound twice daily for three days.”
“Detoxifying drink: Chan Tui (cicada slough) three qian, Jing Jie (schizonepeta) two qian, Ge Gen (kudzu root) three qian, Ye Ju Hua (wild chrysanthemum) four qian, Pu Gong Ying (dandelion) four qian, Zi Hua Di Ding (Chinese violet) four qian, Sheng Gan Cao (raw licorice) one and a half qian. One dose daily, decoct and take for five days.”
“Take two qian each of Huanglian (coptis) and Huangbai (Phellodendron), grind into a fine powder, mix with three to four liang of lard, and blend thoroughly until it forms an ointment. Apply onto a clean cloth, cover the wound, and change once daily for five days.” [Note]
Guizhi finished writing the last stroke: “Noted.”
Sun Wuyou said matter-of-factly, “Give the prescription to the family members—they’ll need to buy the herbs at the pharmacy.”
He Chao’s father took the prescription. “I-I’ll go buy them. Xiao Xi, you stay here with Chao-ge’er.” He hurried back to his room, grabbed the household money, and headed toward town.
The others stepped out of He Chao’s cramped little room, closing the door behind them to let him rest.
Guizhi, not much older than He Xi, took her aside to play. Sun Wuyou pulled Xie Yushu aside to talk.
It was Xie Yushu who spoke first: “Thank you.”
She wasn’t just thanking Sun Wuyou for treating He Chao—she’d also noticed that the herbs prescribed were all affordable ones. The He family could probably manage the cost. Sun Wuyou had been thoughtful in her choice of medicine.
Sun Wuyou grinned at Xie Yushu. “It’s nothing.”
She didn’t know why, but being acknowledged by Xie Yushu made her feel warm all over, light and elated.
Curious, she asked, “Is he a friend of yours?”
Xie Yushu shook her head. “Not really. We’ve only met once before—this is the second time.”
“Only twice, and you were this anxious to have me save him?” Sun Wuyou looked skeptical.
“I can’t just stand by when I see someone seriously ill,” Xie Yushu said softly. “And their family is struggling. Without you, his hand could have been ruined.”
Xie Yushu had grown up in a peaceful era with no worries about food or clothing. Her compassion had been well preserved. She couldn’t turn a blind eye to those in suffering—especially someone she’d crossed paths with.
Her small act could save an entire household.
Sun Wuyou, basking in Xie Yushu’s praise, felt as if she’d have her tail wagging high if she had one.
Then she remembered the way Xie Yushu had addressed her. With a troubled look, she said, “You called me ‘Fifth Miss’ just now—so what should I call you?”
“Whatever. Just use my name directly.” Xie Yushu didn’t see what the fuss was about.
“That won’t do—it’d make us seem distant.” Sun Wuyou was the first to object.
“How many children are there in your family?”
“Just me.”
Inspiration struck Sun Wuyou: “Then you’re the only one—the eldest of your household. How about I call you Xie Da from now on?”
Xie Da?
How was that any different from calling her Xiong Da or Xiong Er?
Xie Yushu’s face scrunched up in disgust. She shot it down immediately: “No.”
“Why not?”
Xie Yushu gave her a mournful look. “Isn’t it an ugly name?”
Sun Wuyou’s eyes widened. “How could it be?! Xie Da, Xie Da—it’s so friendly and intimate!”
“You call me Fifth Miss, and I’ll call you Xie Da.”
“No way. Just call me by my name—either my given name or my full name,” Xie Yushu insisted, defending her name.
Sun Wuyou stayed silent, pretending not to hear.
She liked Xie Yushu as a friend. Among everyone she knew, Xie Yushu was the most unique—though she wasn’t one for smiles or warmth, and she wasn’t actively enthusiastic, she was knowledgeable, good with numbers, kind-hearted, and a great cook.
Sun Wuyou felt an instant connection with her, as if they’d known each other for years.
How wonderful—she’d made such a friend.
Before leaving, Xie Yushu went over Sun Wuyou’s instructions for the medicine again, asking He Xi repeatedly if she’d remembered.
Few people in the village were literate—the dosage and usage instructions were all written on the prescription sheet.
He Xi recited everything back flawlessly twice before they felt at ease to leave.
As they said goodbye, He Xi tugged at Sun Wuyou’s sleeve and pulled out a small, worn black cloth pouch. She poured out twenty copper coins as payment.
Her father had taken all the household money when he left, leaving her with only these twenty coins for the healer’s fee—no matter how poor they were, they had to pay.
Sun Wuyou naturally refused. She’d come for Xie Yushu, not for money. Besides, Xie Da had said they were struggling—a healer ought to be compassionate.
Seeing the healer refuse, He Xi’s eyes reddened.
Unable to bear a child’s tears, Sun Wuyou found a way out: “Then give me two apricot blossoms as payment instead.”
He Xi ran out happily but returned disappointed—it wasn’t the season for apricot blossoms. In the end, she could only find two small yellow wildflowers.
Sun Wuyou didn’t mind. She accepted the little yellow flowers with delight, patted He Xi’s head, and told her that though she was young, she was responsible and caring for her brother—she’d surely grow up to be someone of great worth.
He Xi looked up at her with bright, shining eyes—did the healer really think so highly of her?
Seeing that He Xi seemed to have something more to say to Xie Yushu, Sun Wuyou took Guizhi and waited at the gate.
Though young, He Xi had been well raised by her brother and father. She said to Xie Yushu, “Miss Xie, thank you so much for today.”
Xie Yushu shook her head. “It’s nothing. Once your brother’s better, he’ll still need to help me with something.”
He Xi’s eyes brightened. “Really? But my brother doesn’t seem like he can do much for you.”
She wasn’t putting her brother down—it was just that the three women before her all seemed like capable people who’d be doing important things. Her family were just simple fishing folk. They didn’t have much to offer.
Xie Yushu had acted partly out of compassion, but she also had her own reasons.
He Chao was diligent and quick-witted. If she went ahead with the kelp business in Qianwan Village, she’d need his help. He knew the area inside out, got along well with people, and his family seemed honest and hardworking—he’d be an excellent assistant.
“Really. You don’t need to take me to Aunt Hong San anymore—I think I can find the way. Go take care of your brother.”
The three left the He house. Sun Wuyou wasn’t in a hurry to return to town, so she and Guizhi followed Xie Yushu as she wandered around the little fishing village.
Following her memory from last time, Xie Yushu found Aunt Hong San. She got straight to the point, sharing her methods for drying kelp and proposing a deal.
“Auntie, try drying a batch using my method—I guarantee it’ll turn out better than what you’re doing now,” Xie Yushu said confidently.
The reason she was so sure this method would improve the quality was that she’d spent several nights thinking it over—how to adapt modern techniques to this era.
Back in her previous life, she’d been a homebody who watched all kinds of educational content, especially on food drying methods.
Dried persimmons, sausages, kelp, seaweed—whether from the earth, land, or sea, she knew a bit about all kinds of dried goods. She loved studying how sunlight, wind, and air affected the final product. She had some confidence in what she knew.
Hong Hao looked at Xie Yushu with skepticism. The woman’s expression was earnest—she didn’t seem to be boasting, and she looked perfectly sure of herself. That put Hong Hao in a difficult spot.
Her own drying skills had been honed over years of working with the sea breeze. Could she really trust such a young woman?
Seeing Hong San’s hesitation, Xie Yushu spoke up to ease her concerns: “Auntie, after you dry this batch—whether it turns out well or poorly—I’ll buy it from you at 20% above the market price. You won’t lose out. What do you say?”
Hearing there was a guarantee and that she’d be paid above her usual rate, Hong San immediately made up her mind.
She’d do it.
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