Chapter 123: The Medicine Won

That evening, the official boat docked at Baoying County, and Jia Cong went ashore to buy over a dozen doses of herbal medicine from a pharmacy.

The next morning, the official boat continued southward; Jia Cong estimated another four or five days of water travel would bring them to Jin Ling.

These days, he began reading the books he had purchased before departure, laying a solid foundation for his future autumn examination essays and policy treatises.

Early that morning, he again sent Qingwen to the deck to decoct the medicine; Wu'er had taken one dose the night before and had improved considerably.

For several days, Jia Cong had been cooped up in the cabin reading, while Qingwen somehow grew close to Qin's maid, Ruizhu.

Perhaps due to boredom on the boat, the two young maids—both at the most energetic age—got along surprisingly well, often whispering and laughing together.

Wu'er sat beside Jia Cong reading; she had never left Shen Jing since birth, unlike Qingwen, who had wandered with her uncle's son since childhood and was unbound by convention when traveling.

Wu'er was delighted by the boat for half a day, then succumbed to seasickness, lying in bed for two days before recovering, only to catch a chill from the river wind and remain unwell.

Seeing Wu'er still listless, Jia Cong reached out and touched her smooth forehead: "You had a slight fever yesterday, but it's gone today—rest two more days and you'll be fine."

"Him." She recalled the figure standing at the bow, like a celestial being banished to earth—the boy who had dismissed her family's scholarly tradition as worthless.

Qin Qin Keqing had never left her cabin; as a young lady already betrothed, she observed more taboos, and even her shy younger brother rarely stepped out of the cabin.

Unconsciously, she squeezed Wu'er's soft, slender hand again, then turned and left the cabin to check if the medicine was ready.

"I've seen you with Qingwen these past few days—doesn't your mistress need you to attend her?"

Behind him, Wu'er blushed deeply; since that day when Cong Sanye had taken her hand and led her out of Rongxi Hall, it was as if he had rooted himself in her heart—he often took her hand without warning, leaving her flustered yet unwilling to refuse.

Jia Cong did not know Qin Keqing had suddenly fallen ill; Qin Ye and his wife were worried, for their daughter had always been strong, rarely sick since childhood, yet now she had fallen ill without cause.

But Qin Keqing insisted it was nothing—just a chill from the river wind—and told her parents not to worry, staying confined to her room each day.

When Jia Cong stepped out of the cabin, he saw a small red-clay medicine stove smoking on deck, with a maid crouched before it—but it wasn't Qingwen. Where had that girl gone?

In Qin Qin Keqing's cabin, the maid Ruizhu brought in a steaming bowl of decocted medicine.

Jia Cong returned to the cabin and handed Ruizhu several packets of herbs: "The river wind is strong; young women are frail and easily catch chills. Wu'er caught a cold too—these herbs were bought in Baoying."

Ruizhu's eyes sparkled as she smiled: "Qingwen just stepped away for a moment—I'm keeping an eye on the pot for her."

Since Qingwen and Ruizhu had grown close, Jia Cong and Wu'er had also become familiar with her; after all, the upper cabin was so small.

…

"Ruizhu, where did this medicine come from?"

It was given by that Jia young master. His maid Wu'er also caught a cold—these are the herbs he bought in Baoying. He said Wu'er improved greatly after taking them, so he asked me to decoct a bowl for you too.

"Ruizhu, why are you here watching the medicine? Where's Qingwen?"

"The medicine is mild and effective after one dose—far more convenient than waiting until you reach Su Zhou to see a physician."

"My mistress caught a chill from the river wind two days ago. She spends half the day in bed and won't let me attend her. Father says we'll hire a physician once we reach Su Zhou."

"Miss, that man is quite kind—even his own maids are treated with such care."

Since overhearing her parents' conversation that day, Qin Keqing had been weighed down by sorrow; combined with the past few days' indulgence in viewing the river scenery and catching the wind, her illness was less physical than emotional.

After drinking the decoction, she felt the gloom in her chest lift slightly and asked: "You and Qingwen seem to be getting along well these days."

Ruizhu tidied the medicine bowl and helped Qin Keqing lie down. "Yes, Qingwen is straightforward and easy to get along with—though her tongue is sharp."

"I've been lying around these days—I don't need you constantly by my side. Rest on your own. Go play with Qingwen. Once we reach Jin Ling, you won't have time to be together."

Ruizhu, still childlike, beamed: "Then you rest well, Miss. I'll be downstairs—I'll come up every quarter hour to check on you."

In the following days, as Su Zhou drew near, the several doses Jia Cong had sent proved highly effective; Ruizhu decocted and served them twice, and Qin Keqing recovered fully.

Seeing her mistress's complexion improved, Ruizhu noticed each time she entered the room that Qin Keqing was embroidering a handkerchief of rain-blue silk—her mood had clearly lifted.

When the official boat reached Su Zhou, Qin Ye saw his daughter had recovered and chose not to dock; they continued straight upriver to Jin Ling.

His Majesty was deeply concerned about the construction of the Great Cien Temple; he dared not delay, for every day they arrived earlier was one day better.

Originally, passing Yangzhou, Jia Cong had intended to pay respects to Lin Daiyu's father, Lin Lin Ruhai, who now served as Inspector of Salt Revenues in the Two Huai Regions.

That year, Lin Daiyu had given him Lin Lin Ruhai's reading notes, which greatly aided his studies; he and Lin Lin Ruhai had formed a bond akin to that of a master and disciple, and a passing visit was only proper.

But this was an imperial mission, and as a rank-eight official, he could not act on his own—the itinerary must follow Qin Ye's authority as head of this construction project.

He could only wait for another chance to visit Lin Lin Ruhai; fortunately, Jin Ling was not far from Yangzhou.

After passing Zhenjiang, the official boat entered the vast Yangtze River.

That morning, while the sky was still half-dark, Jia Cong took the two maids to the bow to watch the sunrise.

Wu'er and Qingwen knew their master loved reading but was no bookworm—he had loved play since childhood and was full of strange, whimsical ideas.

During those years on Mount Mount Luocang, he had told them not only strange tales.

He watched snow in winter, admired flowers in spring, fished in summer, admired maple leaves in autumn, rose early to watch the sunrise, and often spoke of basking in moonlight and gazing at stars—they had long grown used to it, and loved joining him in his whims.

Qingwen, dressed neatly, stood beside Jia Cong, gazing at the rolling river, recalling how Cong Sanye once said that someday, strange bridges could be built across the great river—her young mind wandered with fantasy.

Wu'er wore a high-collared dark-blue satin cloak over her body, wrapping her delicate frame tightly, making her skin appear as white as snow, her grace enchanting.

A sliver of red light appeared where the river met the eastern horizon; in an instant, the water shimmered with a vast expanse of dancing gold, and the world slowly awoke in that brilliant, radiant glow.

Qingwen whispered excitedly: "Cong Sanye, look how beautiful!"

The fiery sunrise painted Wu'er's face with a blush, enhancing her loveliness; she pulled her cloak tighter, and her soft little hand was unconsciously taken again by Jia Cong.

The window on the second deck opened, revealing a face of peerless elegance, gazing with quiet rapture at the fiery red pool in the surging river.

Beside her stood Ruizhu, her eyes bright as she watched the three on the bow: "Miss, look—this Jia young master is truly peculiar, taking his maids out to watch the river so early."

Qin Keqing turned her gaze from the fiery spectacle on the water to the boy standing at the bow, tall and elegant as a jade tree among orchids.

The sunrise bathed her face in crimson; the rain-blue handkerchief in her hand fluttered in the river wind.

Her father had chosen her a prestigious, wealthy household; the marriage contract had been exchanged, the betrothal sealed—her life was already settled.

A deep sorrow and loneliness filled her heart: who among the countryside's youths was truly charming? Even if the world still held beauty, it no longer belonged to her.

(End of Chapter)