The Eldest Princess is Always Feigning Poverty and Weakness - Chapter 11

Out of breath, Wen Ningzhou ran along the mountain paths, completely oblivious to the biting chill of the winter wind. A thin layer of sweat had even broken out across her forehead and the tip of her nose.

The piercing wind rushed at her face like a barrage of tiny knives, stinging her skin.

She didn’t have time to worry about it. Clutching her silver in one hand and her basket in the other, she ran without pause.

Her cloth shoes and long skirt hampered her movements, preventing her from reaching her true speed, so she had to settle for quick, short strides.

Not that she possessed much athletic prowess to begin with. After running for so long, she felt as if her lungs were about to burst—this was far longer than any eight-hundred-metre run back at school.

The setting sun was a signal; as the day took its bow, the world would turn dark in an instant. Wen Ningzhou was terrified that the apothecary would close its doors, and she feared being caught on the long road after nightfall.

She didn’t often go down the mountain, and when she did, she usually bought everything she needed first thing in the morning. She had no idea when the shops here closed. Estimating the distance, she figured she had covered about two-thirds of the way.

“Sigh, I’m truly sorry to trouble you with a trip so late in the evening, Dr. Chen. Thank you for saving a life.”

“Not at all; it is merely the duty of a healer. Just remember what I’ve told you: boil one dose of medicine a day, to be taken once in the morning and once in the evening. Change the dressing every three days. Remember to clean the wound before applying the powder.”

“If there is any pus or a foul odour, you must seek me out immediately. Do not delay. A bit of redness or minor inflammation is nothing to worry about, but you must tell him: do not scratch or touch the wound. A bit of pain or itching is normal; he must simply endure it, and he will recover in a few days.”

Wen Ningzhou spotted three men ahead. Originally, she had intended to simply skirt around them, but as she drew closer and heard their conversation, she came to a sudden halt.

The three men consisted of a villager dressed in coarse cotton clothes and two others. One of the latter followed behind carrying a large chest, while the leader wore a heavy cloak to ward off the wind.

Listening to their talk and looking at their attire, they appeared for all the world like a doctor and his apprentice out on a house call. The chest the man carried looked exactly like a portable medical kit.

This was almost too coincidental. Wen Ningzhou didn’t intend to interrupt; she picked up her pace, wanting to jog past them.

She felt she would be more at ease buying medicine from the established shop at the market; she couldn’t quite trust people encountered randomly on the road.

Hearing her footsteps, the three turned around. To Wen Ningzhou’s surprise, she actually recognized one of them.

She hadn’t met the villager before—he likely belonged to another hamlet. There was more than one village on this mountainside, and the scattered residents belonged to different communities. Wen Ningzhou didn’t even know everyone in her own village.

However, the other two were clearly the doctor and the young apprentice from the very apothecary where she had bought medicine before.

Now Wen Ningzhou believed it truly was a coincidence. She had been heading down the mountain specifically to find this man.

She quickly intercepted the doctor, lying that an elderly member of her household had been injured while chopping wood. She claimed the wound was bleeding severely and was difficult to stop, and she wished to buy some medicine.

She explained that her home was deep in the mountains and the night paths were treacherous, making it inconvenient for the doctor to accompany her. She blurred the details of Qi Luyao’s identity, saying only that a family member had fallen down the mountain after being cut by a wood-knife, suffering multiple injuries along with cold sweats and a fever.

The doctor said it was fortunate indeed; he happened to have medicine for stopping external bleeding on him. The villager’s eldest son had been injured while hunting, and the doctor had just finished treating him.

He gave Wen Ningzhou medicine for external pain and bleeding, along with several doses of internal medicine, preparing the packets right there on the roadside.

After explaining how to apply the bandages and what to watch out for, the doctor handed her a roll of linen. “Lay the linen flat over the wound. After applying the medicine, wrap it several times. Ensure he doesn’t move too much and reopen the wound. You must unwrap and clean the area before every change of dressing.”

“Please ensure you tie a slipknot for ease of removal,” the doctor emphasized.

He gave several more instructions, warning that the first night after an injury required constant vigilance. Neglecting the patient could be dangerous if a high fever refused to break.

Wen Ningzhou listened intently. She was so focused on the instructions that she failed to notice something odd: the doctor’s voice sounded uncharacteristically tense while speaking to her, carrying a subtle, lingering sense of fear and reverence.

Committing the doctor’s words to memory, Wen Ningzhou asked with little hope, “Dr. Chen, do you happen to have any tonics on you?”

As if all the coincidences of the day had converged, the doctor actually had a piece of wild mountain ginseng, along with herbs like Angelica and Rehmannia for nourishing the blood and vital energy.

Wen Ningzhou didn’t linger. She spent her silver without a second thought, using up half of what she had brought to secure the medicine and the ginseng before racing back home.

She did not see Dr. Chen standing frozen behind her, staring at the silver in his hands with a look of utter bewilderment.

He asked the villager beside him tremulously, “Good warrior, this silver…?”

“Keep it. Thank you for your cooperation, Doctor.” The villager’s voice was suddenly cold and sharp, a stark contrast to his earlier coarse, rustic tone. Although he said “thank you,” his voice was laced with a chilling frost.

The “villager” patted the doctor on the shoulder. “I trust you will be… discreet, Dr. Chen.”

With that, the man vanished into the narrow mountain path with incredible agility. The young apprentice looked up timidly, but the figure was already gone.

The doctor broke out in a cold sweat. Looking down at his feet, he saw a flash of gold on the toe of his shoe—it was a gold leaf.

He stood there, having no idea when the gold leaf had been tossed onto his foot. He quickly snatched it up. He and the apprentice offered their thanks to the empty air before turning and bolting.

The doctor led the way and the apprentice brought up the rear; they ran even faster than Wen Ningzhou.

Heaven only knew how terrified Dr. Chen had been. He had genuinely thought this trip would be the end of him.

He had been preparing to close his doors at nightfall when several menacing men in black had burst in. Their faces were hidden, and they radiated a lethal aura. They had tossed a gold ingot onto his counter a sight Dr. Chen had never seen in this impoverished region.

Not daring to wake his wife and children, he had followed the men’s instructions and brought his apprentice along, fully expecting never to return.

He had been led out in a daze, merely echoing the words the men in black told him to say. It was only when he saw the young woman that he realized the men were likely helping her from the shadows.

He had a strong impression of Wen Ningzhou. She had come to buy medicine a few days ago without a prescription, buying only a single dose. Her accent wasn’t local, and though she was plainly dressed, her beauty was still exceptional.

Her entire aura truly didn’t seem like that of a country woman.

With a few hurried thoughts, the doctor and his apprentice made a hasty return to their home.

By now, the sky was pitch black. Guided by the moonlight, Wen Ningzhou followed the familiar path back to her house.

The courtyard was silent. She locked the gate and, without stopping to catch her breath, ran straight to the bedroom. Her return had evidently startled “Red Middle” in the back yard, who let out a series of loud honks.

The goose’s cry was jarringly loud in the silent night, giving Wen Ningzhou a fright.

She pushed open the bedroom door. Just as she had left her, the person on the bed was lying quietly with her eyes closed. Even the goose hadn’t woken her; she lay there perfectly still.

She looked as if she were dead.

Wen Ningzhou panicked instantly. A delicate woman losing so much blood—perhaps she couldn’t hold on after all.

“Wake up, wake up! Don’t sleep!” Wen Ningzhou tossed her basket onto the bedside table and leaned over to pat Qi Luyao’s face.

She was genuinely hitting her; the sound of her palms against Qi Luyao’s cheeks was sharp and clear.

“Don’t sleep, sister! Wake up! Sister, don’t die, please don’t die!” Wen Ningzhou pressed her finger under Qi Luyao’s nose to check for breath.

Her cries of “sister” were heartfelt, but her slaps were just as real.

Qi Luyao had taken pain medication and swallowed her pills; once the agony had subsided, a deep exhaustion had washed over her.

She had been drifting in a light sleep when the goose had roused her, though she wasn’t fully awake yet; her consciousness was still a bit muddled.

“Young lady… please,” Qi Luyao was forced to speak. “Show some mercy.”

Seeing her wake up, Wen Ningzhou finally withdrew her hand. “Why weren’t you moving? You scared me to death.”

Before leaving, she had emphasized again and again that Qi Luyao shouldn’t move. Qi Luyao had taken her literally and stayed perfectly still—only to be slapped awake.

“Old Man Zhou” was truly a strict caretaker.

A day ago, Qi Luyao would never have imagined she would be slapped in the face, nor that she would feel grateful to the person doing it.

It was the first time she felt the word “sister” sounded so clean and pleasant; no one had ever called her that before.

In Wen Ningzhou, Qi Luyao saw a rare, unvarnished sincerity.

“Dr. Chen’s medicine is indeed effective,” Wen Ningzhou said, feeling Qi Luyao’s forehead. “The fever is coming down.”

Qi Luyao remained silent. As Wen Ningzhou unwrapped her clumsy bandaging, she exclaimed in surprise, “The bleeding has actually stopped!”

“Traditional medicine is truly miraculous. Dr. Chen must be a legendary healer living in seclusion.”

Qi Luyao remained silent once more.

Then she heard Wen Ningzhou say excitedly, “Good thing I bought plenty more. Wait here while I boil it for you.”

“I even got a mountain ginseng to nourish your body,” Wen Ningzhou added. “You lost so much blood; we have to build you back up.”

“I’ll go brew the medicine now. It’ll be ready soon.”

Qi Luyao nearly bolted upright from her deathbed. The memory of swallowing that bitter, brown soup filled with sediment was not something she had the courage to relive.

Support The Eldest Princess is Always Feigning Poverty and Weakness