Chapter Seventy-Two: Returning Home

A stinging pain radiated from his swollen cheek, making him suck in a sharp breath; the other’s grip was formidable, impossible to break free from. Though Jiang Wen was not a man of immense strength, his body had been tempered by the battlefield and, before entering service, by years of tilling the fields. Hardened by such labor, he was certainly more robust than most, and after those two blows, Yu Ji was left somewhat dazed.

Zhang Zhongjing emerged from the house, carrying scrolls of bamboo slips. He walked quickly to the carriage and placed them inside with great care, instructing the constables to handle them gently—these were his lifeblood.

Jiang Wen released his grasp. Yu Ji struggled to his feet, clearly intent on cursing, but Jiang Wen simply raised his fist in warning. Swallowing his anger, Yu Ji turned to the magistrate, who had received not a few favors from Master Jia. Yet now, witnessing this affront, the magistrate chose to look the other way, allowing this stranger to take charge—clearly, this man’s background was not simple.

His face throbbed with fiery pain, but he could only bear it in silence. Watching Zhang Zhongjing carry off his precious medical texts, it was as if his very heart were bleeding.

After placing the bamboo slips in the carriage, Zhang Zhongjing looked at Jiang Wen. “The carriage is full—where will you sit?”

“I have a donkey. The magistrate has kindly been feeding it for me. Have you finished collecting your books, sir?”

Zhang Zhongjing checked his scrolls and nodded.

Jiang Wen bowed to the magistrate. “I take my leave of you today, sir.”

The magistrate returned the bow with utmost respect. “Safe travels, my lord. Take care on the road.”

With a flick of his whip, Zhang Zhongjing urged the horses forward. “Hyah.”

Jiang Wen accepted the donkey from the constables, mounted it, and followed along.

Zhang Zhongjing glanced over. “You depart so readily, Libationer?”

“If you are willing to accompany me to Xiangyang, sir, what reason is there to linger here?”

“You have no desire for a little gold or silver, some trinkets?”

Jiang Wen smiled. “My home has fertile fields and a fair wife. I lack for nothing—why covet the meager possessions of the common folk?”

“Sir, my wife’s culinary skills are unparalleled. Perhaps after one meal at our table, you won’t wish to leave.”

“Your reputation is highly esteemed in the city. It seems you are indeed a good official.” The carriage moved slowly, as Zhang Zhongjing could not bear for his medical texts to be jostled.

Jiang Wen said nothing, and so Zhang Zhongjing continued. “It’s a pity we can’t uncover what trick that charlatan used. I’ve lost sleep over it. Master Jia’s son has suffered from typhoid for some time—yet after a mere bowl of that sorcerer’s talisman water, he improved. I cannot fathom it.”

Jiang Wen replied, “I have heard tell of a thing called ginseng, said to nourish all five viscera, sweet in taste and slightly cool. Brewed as a tonic, it may well cure typhoid.”

Zhang Zhongjing shook his head. “It is recorded in the Divine Farmer’s Materia Medica, but I have yet to use it myself—one cannot judge rashly.”

Lujiang, Sun Jian’s main camp.

The generals stood armored and armed. Sun Jian stood atop the command platform, studying the map intently. Ever since Yuan Shu’s crushing defeat, he had remained holed up, refusing to emerge. No amount of challenge or provocation had lured him out, leaving the generals restless and the army’s morale unsteady.

“Prime Minister, let us lead ten thousand elite troops around the eastern hills near Hefei and strike directly at that brat Yuan Shu’s stronghold!”

“General, the eastern hills are crawling with scouts. Even if you went alone, much less with ten thousand men, it would be impossible to remain undetected.”

“Ha! That brat Yuan Shu is truly something—hiding like a turtle in its shell all day.”

Sun Jian’s face remained impassive as he surveyed his commanders, who fell silent.

“If we defeat Yuan Shu in this battle, all of Yuzhou will be ours. Then we will control the passage between north and south. Whatever ideas you have, speak them now—I want a decisive victory!”

Sun Quan stepped forward. “Father, Yuan Shu suffered a heavy loss last time. Forcing him into open battle will not be easy.”

“Then we attack head-on!” Sun Jian’s gaze swept the assembly. “Cheng Pu, Sun Jing.”

“We are here!”

“I appoint Cheng Pu as commanding general, Sun Jing as his deputy. Tomorrow, take fifty thousand troops to cross the Huai River at Anfeng Ford and capture Xiacai!”

“Han Dang, Zu Mao, I appoint Han Dang as commander and Zu Mao as his deputy. You two are to lead thirty thousand troops from Hefei to seize Chengde County!”

“The rest of you, follow me to take Shouchun!”

“Yes, sir!”

Xiangyang, the Jiang residence.

In the western courtyard, a beautiful woman clad in a white dress strolled gracefully through the garden. Her figure was captivating, her curves supple. Her brows and eyes seemed painted, her gaze was clear as water, her lips crimson, her teeth pearly, her skin like warm jade—her beauty enchanting, her every gesture mesmerizing, stunningly lovely, ethereal as a fairy in a painting. Each step was a portrait, rendering all else around her pale by comparison.

Diao Chan extended her slender arms, biting her lip gently as she held a scroll of Jiang Wen’s poetry.

Another lovely woman approached, placing a meal on the stone table. “Oh, my silly lady, the master treats you so, and yet you pine for him every day.”

Diao Chan smiled softly, delicate and moving, her frailty stirring the heart. “I simply cherish a single hope.”

“Hmph,” Xiao Shu retorted, unconvinced. “I’ve heard the madam used to be a beggar—rank and beauty both, she cannot compare to you. Why should she be the madam?”

Diao Chan tapped Xiao Shu on the head with a slender finger, a touch of reproach in her tone. “You mustn’t speak so carelessly in the household. If the madam hears, it could cost you your life!”

“It’s all right.”

Diao Chan’s delicate frame trembled. Xiao Shu, flustered, quickly turned and bowed. “Greetings, madam.”

Tao’er set a bowl of steaming chicken soup on the table. “The master is kind to all his family, never caring for rules or ceremony. If you have grievances, you may speak them openly—he does not mind about rank. Even in the army, he let me dine with the generals.”

“Madam, Xiao Shu was merely speaking out of turn. Please do not hold it against her.” Diao Chan clenched her hands anxiously. “If you must punish someone, let it be me. I beg you for leniency…”

“Sister, I am not angry.”

Diao Chan gently prompted Xiao Shu, “Hurry and leave now.”

Tao’er picked up the poem from the table and looked at Diao Chan. “Sister, you are truly beautiful.”

Diao Chan smiled, yet inwardly she was at a loss. She could not fathom this madam’s intentions. Raised in a noble family, she knew well the games of the concubines, but this woman seemed not to care for such things…

Was it supreme confidence?

While Diao Chan pondered, Tao’er set aside her handkerchief and gazed at the spring overflow in the courtyard.

“My origins are humble. My father once joined the Yellow Turban rebellion and died, leaving me to wander as a beggar. All I longed for was a peaceful home.”

“I promise to discipline the servants strictly and ensure this never happens again,” Diao Chan replied with shining eyes, her manner respectful. Truly, the madam’s heart was broad indeed!

“Madam! Madam! The master has returned!”