Chapter Ten: The Imperial Pardon Medallion

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Li Zisheng had no idea what Doctor Zhang was thinking; he simply assumed the doctor was still puzzled by how he knew of such an ingenious prescription, and so he paid it no further mind.

“Doctor Zhang, Village Chief, Uncle Jiang, I must step away for a moment and will return shortly. Please, continue as you are now. Do not stop before the medicine arrives—if you do, even the finest remedy won’t be able to cure such a complicated illness,” Li Zisheng instructed solemnly.

Though outwardly his words were addressed to Jiang Heng and the village chief, in truth he was reminding Doctor Zhang that their current actions were crucial—tantamount to imparting his knowledge without reservation. Doctor Zhang was an old hand and naturally understood Li Zisheng’s intention; he assured Li Zisheng that the rest of the matter could be left to him.

“Brother Xiu, Brother Xiu, where are you?”

Li Zisheng’s childish voice echoed through the hills behind the village.

“Cousin, cousin, what happened just now? The kite you asked me to watch suddenly flew off by itself, and then, out of nowhere, it caught fire in the sky!”

Li Zixiu was clearly still shaken by the extraordinary spectacle he had just witnessed.

Li Zisheng let out a quiet chuckle—his cousin had no inkling of the trick involved.

That so-called paper dragon kite had been specially made for him by his father for play, and he’d thought little of it at the time. Now, however, it had proven incredibly useful. Using scraps of cloth, he fashioned a small pair of dragon horns, transforming the kite into a dragon’s likeness.

He had doused the paper dragon in liquor and attached some tinder from home. At every joint, he placed rough white phosphorus—crudely powdered flint he had prepared himself.

Thus, when the paper dragon soared into the sky and the mountain wind whipped it about, the phosphorus ignited from friction, which in turn set alight the tinder and alcohol, conjuring the image of a green dragon soaring through the heavens. It shocked the shamaness Wang into submission—though, of course, Li Zisheng had no intention of telling his cousin the truth.

There was, however, a drawback: the trail left by the burning kite was quite conspicuous. To mitigate this, Li Zisheng had instructed Li Zixiu to wait at the spot and had quickly reeled the dragon down using a thick, water-soaked cord, resulting in only a brief, fleeting sight—one that made it seem all the more mysterious.

“Cousin, the immortals have forbidden you from speaking of this. If you mention what happened here, our family may suffer misfortune,” Li Zisheng said, deliberately grave.

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Seeing Li Zisheng’s expression, Li Zixiu realized his cousin was not joking. For the safety of his family, he decided to keep his lips sealed and never speak of what had occurred in the hills.

“Cousin, you’d best go back now and check on Sister Jiang Ling. After what happened, she must be terribly frightened.”

At these words, Li Zixiu silently cursed himself for not having gone to help earlier and wondered how things had turned out.

“Cousin, you tidy up here. I’ll go ahead.”

“Yes, go on.”

Li Zisheng clasped his hands behind his back and watched his cousin leave, finally breathing a sigh of relief. Had his cousin pressed for answers, things would have been much harder to explain.

“A clever child, indeed—thoughtful and wise beyond his years. I was right about you. You know when to hold back, and you act with compassion and skill—excellent, excellent.”

“Who’s there?” The sudden voice startled Li Zisheng. This area of the hills was rarely visited. How could someone be here?

“I was simply out for a stroll, nothing more.”

When the speaker emerged, Li Zisheng was momentarily dumbfounded: was this not the spirited old man he had seen a few days prior? How had they crossed paths again?

“Little one, though this green dragon was a marvel, such things are not unknown. But the dragon is a celestial beast—the symbol of imperial power. Its appearance here may invite calamity upon you.”

At these words, Li Zisheng abruptly realized his oversight. In ancient times, dragons belonged solely to the emperor. Though the spectacle had served his cause well, its appearance might yet bring disaster upon his family.

“Please, sir, instruct me,” he implored.

“You, at only six or seven, are so astute that, were it not for your youthful appearance, I would never believe you were but a child. Surely, there is another soul residing within you. Hahaha! Still, what does it matter?”

“Take this. It will see you safely through this affair. But remember, it may only be used once—do not conjure such things again.” The old man’s tone was both a warning and a benediction. He tossed something to Li Zisheng, then departed without revealing his name or explaining what the object was.

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Li Zisheng knew that even if he chased after the old man with questions, he would receive no answers. Better not to ask. He picked up the object: a small, slightly tarnished medallion, engraved with two golden dragons and the character for “pardon” in the center.

“A Medallion of Life? Could it be?”

He had read in unofficial histories that Emperor Gaozu of Tang had ordered five such medallions made, all passed down to Emperor Taizong, who bestowed three upon his ministers, while the whereabouts of the remaining two were known only to the imperial family. Li Zisheng had regarded the story as little more than an idle curiosity, never imagining he would one day lay hands on such a legendary treasure. This was a true heirloom—worth a fortune in later times.

He carefully tucked the medallion into his clothes and hastily set about cleaning up the remnants left behind.

How the old man knew of this place, or of him, he could not guess—but he was certain the old man bore him no ill will.

Leaving the hills, Li Zisheng returned to the Jiang family’s courtyard. To his surprise, the shamaness Wang was still there—trembling in a corner, paralyzed with fear. When she saw Li Zisheng enter, she began to shake all over, utterly terrified.

“Xiaosheng, Xiaosheng, my Lingling has taken her medicine, and now both she and Zhang’s grandson are much better. Their bodies aren’t cold anymore, though they haven’t yet awoken. Doctor Zhang said all will be well and has already left. Could you check if everything is alright?” Jiang Heng’s family, the Zhangs, Li Zisheng’s grandmother, and others crowded around him.

His mother had been sent by his grandmother to bring food to his grandfather and the rest, so she was not present.

Li Zisheng calmly approached the two children and took their pulses. As expected, they were well—their pulses steady.

“Don’t worry. Both of them are fine now. They’ll wake up a little later—there’s nothing to fear,” he announced. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief—the necessary ingredients had all been available.

He had worried all the way back about the lack of gold leaf and amber. Although Tianshui Village was relatively prosperous, such rare and precious medicinal ingredients were a matter of luck. As it turned out, the two children were indeed fortunate.