A Short Story Collection with Non-Human Protagonists - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: The Bodhisattva’s Prescription

Tang Yanqing jolted awake from her dream.

Like a deep-thinking cultivator, she sat cross-legged on the bed of the small-town inn, pondering for the entire night.

Only when the dead branches are fully broken can the new buds grow.

The antidote is already written within the cycle of reincarnation… Cause and effect are both the arising of conditions, and both are echoes.

These words felt as if they explained everything, yet simultaneously said nothing at all.

Tang Yanqing grabbed the notepad on the desk and wrote down every past life the Bodhisattva had revealed to her in the dream. Over and over she recalled them, scrutinizing every detail. She didn’t know how much of her hair she had pulled out in frustration, nor how many times she had looked at the name “Huaiqing”—

Suddenly, it was as if a bucket of cold water had cleared her mind; she was struck by a sudden realization.

Locust (Huai) leaves can be used as medicine to clear the liver, purge fire, cool the blood, and detoxify.

—By the same logic, every past life she had experienced contained a hidden medicinal ingredient.

The willow catkins (Liu) from the Bodhisattva temple: primarily used to stop bleeding and treat all sorts of “malignant toxins.”

The osmanthus in the General’s sachet: promotes blood circulation to dissipate stasis, dispels cold, and relieves pain.

The caraway (Zang Hui Xiang) transported from the snowy regions by the merchant: dispels wind, regulates Qi, warms the center, and strengthens the spleen.

The lute the musician loved most, named Angelica (Dang Gui): regulates menstruation, relieves pain, tonifies blood, and invigorates circulation.

The Bodhisattva’s prescription was truly beyond the comprehension of ordinary mortals. Several of these ingredients were almost never used for “cold-type” ailments, which was why, despite reading so many medical books, she had never considered combining them.

The first rays of orange-pink dawn pierced the dark blue canopy of the sky, signaling that today would be a warm, clear day with skies like washed silk. Tang Yanqing collapsed onto the bed clutching the sachet, exhausted to the point of collapse.

She had finally, completely solved the riddle woven by the Bodhisattva using fate.

All dharmas are empty, but cause and effect are not. Reincarnation was not a meaningless idling of a wheel. Every parting was for the sake of finding a sliver of life within an unsolvable dead end.

As soon as it was light, Tang Yanqing took her handwritten prescription to the pharmacy on the street.

Willow catkins, osmanthus, locust leaves. Caraway, licorice, snow lotus, prepared rehmannia root, ginseng, and Angelica.

Nine cycles of reincarnation, nine medicinal ingredients.

The pharmacist inquired curiously, “Young lady, where did you get this prescription? It’s my first time seeing one like it.”

“The Bodhisattva gave it to me to treat cold toxins,” Tang Yanqing told the truth.

“Ooh, quite mysterious, isn’t it?” The man laughed, assuming she was joking.

While waiting for the medicine to decoct, the morning news played on the television.

“At approximately 23:00 last night, a fire broke out in an old residential building in Sophora Alley. Fortunately, there were no casualties. Following a preliminary investigation by the fire department, suspicious accelerant residues were found at the scene, suggesting arson. Police have launched an investigation but have not yet identified a specific suspect. We urge nearby residents with information…”

Tang Yanqing silently clenched her fist. Li Mingyi had escaped from Granny Gu. Before Li Mingyi found them… she had to make Liu Jin get well quickly.

Tang Yanqing returned to the inn, opened the packaging, poured the decocted medicine into a paper cup, and submerged the entire sachet into it. Her heart pounded wildly; she nearly held her breath in tension.

Minutes and seconds ticked away.

—She waited a long time, but nothing happened.

On the desk sat a plain cup of herbal medicine with a blood-stained sachet soaking in it. Had she misunderstood the Bodhisattva’s hint?

Suddenly, a tingly, itchy sensation brushed against her finger, as if she were touching the fine, soft fur of some creature. Tang Yanqing turned around.

A snow-white, nine-tailed celestial fox, covered in wounds, was curled up on the small bed behind her. The window wasn’t closed tightly; the breeze stirred the sheer curtains and blew the white fur of the fox’s tail-tip against her fingers.

“Ah Jin!”

Tang Yanqing lunged over. The fox was covered in dried blood scabs, its eyes tightly shut, its breathing shallow and slow—it hadn’t fully regained consciousness.

One final “medicinal catalyst” was missing.

Tang Yanqing bit her finger and held it to the fox’s mouth. Like the way Liu Jin coaxed her to take medicine, she whispered to her fox: “Ah Jin, drink my blood…”

Whether it heard her murmur or acted out of instinct, the fox’s tongue gently curled around her fingertip. It was wet and soft.

As the blood flowed drop by drop into the fox’s throat, its body began to emit a warm white light. The dried scabs vanished, and the fox’s fur became lustrous and supple. The white light grew more dazzling, enveloping the fox entirely. The light flowed like particles, restructuring…

Until it gathered into a human form.

Liu Jin’s eyelashes fluttered. Still with Tang Yanqing’s finger in her mouth, she opened her eyes in her arms. Her blurred gaze, light as a butterfly, landed on Tang Yanqing’s face. Her crimson lips parted slightly.

“Ah Qing…”

Tang Yanqing finally heard her voice again. It felt as if the glaciers of the entire universe collapsed at this moment, replaced by the warmth of a bright spring day.

“Are you okay? Is anything uncomfortable?” Tang Yanqing cupped Liu Jin’s face, examining her meticulously.

“I’m sorry, Ah Qing…” Liu Jin curled the corners of her eyes, revealing a slightly weak but apologetic smile. “I made you worry.”

“You aren’t allowed to apologize! It was clearly my fault…” Tang Yanqing choked up, unable to speak. She had done so many things wrong.

Liu Jin only smiled softly, reaching out two fingers to pinch the tip of Tang Yanqing’s nose. Her voice was soft, wrapped in the sweetness of osmanthus.

“You didn’t do anything bad. The fact that you are still by my side is the best thing that could happen in this world.”

How did I deserve this?

A smear of fresh blood remained on Liu Jin’s lips—Tang Yanqing’s blood—tempting her to lean in closer and begin a lingering, tender kiss. It had been so long since she had kissed Liu Jin; the moment their lips touched, her scalp tingled with pleasure. It was 1,357 times sweeter and softer than in her memory.

Tang Yanqing kissed her twice more before remembering she had much to say. She reluctantly pulled back a few inches.

“I saw the Bodhisattva. She explained everything to me. She won’t let us be apart again…”

Liu Jin stroked her cheek, her gaze tender and doting. “I know, Ah Qing. Thank you for coming to save me.”

Tang Yanqing’s throat tightened. Not wanting to waste a single second, she kissed her again with burning urgency. Her hands firmly gripped Liu Jin’s shoulders; she wanted to melt the woman with her lips, to crush her every breath into her own heart, never to be separated for all eternity.

“Ah Jin, I missed you so much…”

In the gaps between their entwined lips and tongues, Tang Yanqing repeated it over and over. Thousands of years of accumulated love weighed heavily on her heart.

Through the heavy snow of the borders, through the mists of the mountains. Through the rain of the capital, through the waves of the great oceans. She had finally taken root beside her lover.

This was the best day of all the lives she had ever possessed; she shouldn’t be crying. Liu Jin kissed away the tears on her face, one by one.

“I missed you too… every single day.”

Her heart turned into a pool of water. Every time Liu Jin kissed her, a strawberry-flavored ripple spread out.

Better news than finally being able to kiss Liu Jin again was that her blood and the Bodhisattva’s medicine were very effective. The little deity always fell deathly ill but recovered quickly. After half a day of intimacy in the room, Liu Jin no longer looked like a patient. Tang Yanqing finally remembered to take her out to eat.

The inn landlady watched Tang Yanqing lead Liu Jin downstairs by the hand. She gave Liu Jin a good look, then smiled at Tang Yanqing.

“Ooh, such a beautiful young lady. She’s your girlfriend, right?”

“Yes,” Tang Yanqing said proudly, “It took several lifetimes of good fortune to get her.”

Liu Jin blushed and pinched the back of her hand. “Don’t talk nonsense…”

Tang Yanqing protested. “Which part was nonsense? There’s evidence and proof; every word is the truth.”

Liu Jin couldn’t think of a way to refute her, so she could only let herself be led as they walked out onto the street.

The midday sun made the road feel scorching. The mountain folk hid under the shade of trees, their bamboo baskets arranged here and there, with stalls full of fresh fruits and vegetables. Tang Yanqing led Liu Jin into a popular restaurant by the road. The owner stood amidst the cooking fumes, tossing a wok with one hand while greeting customers.

“Please, have a seat, you two!”

Steamed fish, shrimp, white-cut chicken. Liu Jin held the menu, picking out dish after dish—all of them Tang Yanqing’s favorites. Tang Yanqing ignored the people passing by, and under the table, she hooked her leg around Liu Jin’s ankle. The rough denim of her jeans rubbed against the woman’s calf through the slit in the qipao, acting spoiled.

“Don’t just think about me.”

Liu Jin replied considerately and dignifiedly, “The dishes you like happen to be exactly what I like.”

Nonsense. It was just that every time, Liu Jin had Granny Gu cook what Tang Yanqing liked; as for what Liu Jin herself liked, perhaps as time went by, she had forgotten it herself.

“Watch out, the food is here!”

The owner began serving. The taste of this restaurant was indeed excellent; the heat and seasoning were handled perfectly, full of “wok hei.” Tang Yanqing took two bites, but her gaze crawled back to Liu Jin’s face. How could there be someone this beautiful—vibrant yet gentle, looking almost transparent in the sunlight?

Liu Jin gave her a playful look, the tip of her high heel gently kicking her under the table. “Don’t look at me… look at the food.”

Tang Yanqing propped up her chin, just grinning foolishly. “You look better than the food.”

The two of them sitting together, speaking such meaningless nonsense, was a luxury they had sought in vain for many years.

Just then, a woman carrying a child turned in from the road and walked straight to the owner. The boy in her arms was about five or six, with sunken eyes and a sallow complexion.

“Brother Huang, this is the money I borrowed from you at the start of the year…” As she spoke, the woman pulled a stack of crumpled bills from her bag and handed them to the owner.

“Oh, Sister San, what are you doing!” The owner put down his spatula and waved his hands repeatedly. “That’s money for the child’s treatment. What’s the rush? Repay me once he’s cured!”

The woman’s eyes, which hadn’t yet dried, welled with tears again. “We aren’t treating him anymore. The doctor said there are no more methods. It’s better to take the child around to play, and then… that will be it.”

The hulking owner couldn’t say a word for a long time. He bent down, lowering his voice to ask the sick child, “Rui’er, Uncle Huang will treat you to a meal. What would you like to eat today?”

Pa—

Liu Jin’s chopsticks landed on the edge of her plate; she seemed to want to get up. Tang Yanqing stood up before Liu Jin could, pressing down on her shoulder.

“Let me go.”

The woman had already sat down at a small table in the corner with the child, wiping her tears with a tissue. Tang Yanqing walked over to her and introduced herself sincerely: “Ma’am, I studied Chinese medicine for a few years. Could I help take a look at the child?”

The woman was a bit surprised but nodded anyway. “Alright, thank you.”

Tang Yanqing knelt before the child, her fingertips resting on the boy’s thin wrist. The Cun, Guan, and Chi pulses were all “choppy,” like a light knife scraping bamboo—a sign of a malignant tumor. The swollen lymph nodes behind the child’s ears and the cyanotic nail beds further confirmed her judgment.

“Neuroblastoma?” Tang Yanqing looked up and asked.

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?”

Tang Yanqing took the small order pad from the restaurant and wrote down a prescription her grandfather used to give children with the same condition: Barbat Skullcap, Black Nightshade, Sophora Root, Spreading Hedyotis…

At the end, she wrote her own phone number and handed it to the woman. “Try this prescription first. If it works, contact me.”

“Thank you, young lady. I’ll go get the medicine in a bit…” The woman folded the prescription carefully.

“It’s no trouble. I got the prescription from someone else too.”

“Thank you so much. How about this meal—let me pay for you…”

“No need, Ma’am, really no need!”

Tang Yanqing became embarrassed. She left money for their own meal, grabbed Liu Jin’s hand, and ran outside.

The afternoon sun was lazy as they walked hand-in-hand. They passed through the marketplace, through the waves of wheat, and past the stone bridge that had stood alone for a thousand years. It had been here when Tang Wanzhi and the little fox first met. The glass-like river water stirred the dark green algae at the bottom. Clouds and waterbirds sailed across the horizon.

“In the future, for those who come to find you—if I can treat them, I’ll treat them first. If I truly can’t, I’ll let them find you, okay?” Tang Yanqing asked.

Liu Jin looked at her for a long time, light and shadow shifting in her eyes as if she were thinking of many, many things. Then, Liu Jin finally nodded.

“Okay.”

Tang Yanqing gripped the woman’s hand tighter, leaned in quickly, and kissed her soft cheek. She actually had zero interest in saving the world; she only wanted to protect her little fox.

To the world, the Fox Immortal Maiden was but one of ten thousand gods. But to Tang Yanqing, she was the only one.