Chapter 247: Divine Physician Zhang Zhang Youpeng

The old man smiled: "Young Master, don't blame me. I have been immersed in medical principles, and observing bones and faces has become an instinct."

"The young master is clear-minded and elegant, filled with spiritual energy; it is truly rare, and he is indeed a fine person."

Jia Cong saw that this old man had an extraordinary demeanor and was likely the person he was looking for.

He hurriedly asked: "Old gentleman, you praise me too much. I am Jia Cong. My relative has an injury, and I came here for medical treatment on the recommendation of Physician Zhang Zhang Youshi. May I ask if you are the divine physician Zhang Zhang Youpeng?"

The old man nodded slightly and replied: "My younger brother came over two days ago and has already passed on the message. I am indeed Zhang Zhang Shichao."

Jia Cong said happily: "My relative was injured by clamp torture half a month ago, and the injury is difficult to heal. I ask Mr. Zhang to use your miraculous hands."

Zhang Zhang Youpeng said: "Young Master Jia, don't be polite. A physician's heart is like a parent's. As long as there is an injury, I will do my best to treat it."

The two talked for a few more sentences, and Zhang Zhang Youchao began to examine Feng-shi's injury.

Jia Cong saw him dismantling the bandages for Feng-shi on one side, his technique was agile and light, and his movements were as fast as lightning. In a moment, he dismantled the bandages without touching Feng-shi's injury at all.

He saw that there was a square skylight opened on the inner hall, inlaid with semi-transparent colored glaze.

Jia Cong smelled a strange and moist fragrance in the inner hall.

Jia Cong was proficient in calligraphy and came from a family of calligraphers and painters in his previous life, so he naturally knew that these paintings were extraordinary, and the inscriptions were all by Zhang Zhang Youpeng himself.

It was just this moment, and he had already asked clearly about Feng-shi's perception of pain.

Jia Cong knew that all masters had experiences and wisdom that were different from ordinary people, and they were often skilled in multiple arts and proficient in several techniques. This Zhang Zhang Youpeng should be such a person.

After the acupuncture treatment, Zhang Zhang Youpeng used a specially made warm medicinal soup to soak Feng-shi's palms to further smooth the blood flow in her palms.

"As the years go by, I have also grown to like this art of painting."

Zhang Zhang Youpeng found four or five acupuncture points on Feng-shi's palms and wrists and used silver needles to push the palace and welcome the blood.

As soon as Jia Cong entered the inner hall, he saw many paintings hanging on the surrounding walls, including flowers and birds, figures, and landscapes, all with exquisite and sharp brushwork.

He didn't expect that this medical sage was also a master of painting.

He operated for the time of a cup of tea, and Feng-shi's palms, which were originally pale and withered after being injured, were pricked by silver needles and actually bloomed with a warm and moist blood color, just like withered wood meeting spring.

He smiled: "Sir's medical skills are superb, and your painting is also extraordinary. The junior admires you very much."

Because Feng-shi's palms needed to be soaked in medicinal water for half an hour, Zhang Zhang Youpeng invited Jia Cong into the inner hall for tea, seemingly having a good impression of this young man he met for the first time.

Although Feng-shi's finger injury was difficult to heal, the injury was controlled and stable, which saved Zhang Zhang Youpeng a lot of effort.

Finally, he used a secret medicinal paste for hot compresses.

Although Zhang Zhang Youshi's medical skills were far less brilliant than his elder brother's, his bone-setting methods were very solid, and he had connected Feng-shi's finger bones very well.

Zhang Zhang Youpeng saw Jia Cong browsing the paintings on the wall and smiled: "When I was young, I studied acupuncture with my teacher. To perform acupuncture, one needs a steady heart and hand, so I used the method of painting to temper my technique."

Jia Cong had only heard people say that Zhang Zhang Youshi's medical skills were brilliant, and his medical skills were all passed down by his elder brother Zhang Zhang Youpeng.

The bright sunlight shone down through the colored glaze, illuminating a strange ancient basin that was a foot wide.

All masters are masters in small places. Just looking at this physician's technique, it was extremely extraordinary.

Now seeing Zhang Zhang Youpeng's strange methods, it was effective in an instant, which was much more brilliant than his brother Zhang Zhang Youshi.

The basin was full of lush and elegant orchids, and the fragrance that moistened the heart and lungs came from these orchids.

It was just that these orchids were a bit strange compared to ordinary orchids.

At the top of each orchid leaf, there were three striking gold lines, as if they were painted with gold paint.

Under the reflection of the sun, each orchid leaf was shining with gold, with a strange beauty.

Jia Cong looked closely and saw that the three gold lines were not painted on, but naturally generated from the leaves. He was surprised; there were such plants in the world.

Zhang Zhang Youpeng saw Jia Cong's curiosity about the orchids he planted and smiled: "This strange grass grows in the Great Marsh of the South of Heaven, born with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and is very rare."

"Its appearance is similar to orchids, but it does not belong to the orchid family. There are three gold lines on the grass leaves, which are often recorded in ancient medical books, called the 'Three-Life Soul-Welcoming Grass'."

"This grass has the miraculous effect of calming the soul and nourishing the spirit, and nourishing life and death. It can refine top-grade precious medicine, but it is very rare and even harder to cultivate, so very few doctors will use

Jia Cong had witnessed Zhang Zhang Youpeng's methods in treating Feng Shi, and seeing him cultivate such rare medicinal herbs, it was clear that not only was his medical skill extraordinary, but his knowledge was also far beyond that of ordinary people.

Once Feng Shi had soaked her palms in the medicinal water, Zhang Zhang Youpeng used a black ointment to apply to the wounds on her fingers and bandaged them properly.

The scent of that black ointment was extremely pungent and stinging, making Jia Cong feel slightly strange, because this smell was somewhat familiar to him.

It was just that this wound medicine, amidst the pungent sting, also exuded a strange fragrance, which made it feel somewhat unfamiliar when compared to the scent he was used to.

Although Jia Cong felt a bit strange in his heart, it was not a major matter; most traditional Chinese wound medicines were of the same origin, and it was not strange for them to have some similarities.

Zhang Zhang Youpeng also wrote a prescription for a warm, nourishing drink, along with a box of the ointment just used, telling Feng Shi to change the dressing every other day, and she would be fully recovered in a month.

After Zhang Zhang Youpeng finished the treatment, Jia Cong respectfully offered a generous medical fee, which Zhang Zhang Youpeng did not decline, accepting it casually and seeing them all the way to the door.

……

Since returning from Huaxi Village, nearly a month had passed quickly, and Feng Shi's injuries had recovered very smoothly.

The Court of Judicial Review had issued an official document; the Lai family brothers and the group of old servants from the Lady Rongguo Prefecture who had committed crimes were sentenced to be beheaded or exiled as slaves, depending on the severity of their offenses.

The turmoil stirred up by the Lady Rongguo Prefecture subsided, and Jia Mu arranged for You Shi and her daughter-in-law to stay in the inner courtyard.

The sentences for the father and son, Jia Zhen and Jia Rong, were also handed down; they were exiled to the salt mines of Beiya in Qiongzhou for thirty years of hard labor, and even if pardoned, they were not to return.

When the news reached the Lady Rongguo Prefecture, the people in the Jia mansion did not know where Qiongzhou was, and even Jia Zheng was not entirely clear; he only knew it was a place where the Great Zhou had exiled major criminals in recent years.

After asking Jia Cong, they learned that the place was nearly ten thousand miles away from the Divine Capital, on the southern frontier of the Great Zhou, wild and backward, prone to miasma and disease, hot all year round, full of poisonous creatures, and few of the inhabitants survived.

Jia Mu, You Shi, and the others wept bitterly upon hearing this; thirty years of hard labor in such a dangerous place meant that, at his age, Jia Zhen would surely never return.

Although Jia Rong was still young, as a pampered noble young master, he would likely not survive thirty years in such a hellish place.

Although the sentence was not death, it was no different from being dead.

Only the daughter-in-law, Rong's wife, did not weep or shed tears, though her face was somewhat pale.

Everyone assumed she was young and had not experienced much, perhaps she was just frightened senseless; no one would blame her.

Because everyone knew that she was the most pitiful one in the two mansions now; she had been married for only a short time, a woman in her teens, and from now on she would live as a widow for the rest of her life.

You Shi was over thirty, and after all, she had been married to Jia Zhen for many years.

Even Li Li Gongcai of the Lady Rongguo Prefecture, though also a young widow, still had her son Jia Lan to rely on.

By comparison, they were all much luckier than this daughter-in-law, Rong's wife; she truly had nothing left.

In a noble clan with such strict moral codes as the Jia family, this daughter-in-law was about to face a hopeless purgatory where a woman would sink forever, until the moment she drew her last breath.

Even people like Jia Mu hoped that this daughter-in-law would have a short life, so she wouldn't have to live too long and suffer in this world.

At this moment, no one noticed that Jia Cong, who had just finished explaining where Qiongzhou was, seemed to look at Qin Keqing inadvertently.

His gaze was full of gentleness and firmness.

……

The prison of the Court of Judicial Review.

Ever since Jia Rong was dragged into the Court of Judicial Review, he had not seen the light of day.

Every day, he lingered on in this dark, sunless prison.

In the past, fine silks and delicacies were commonplace; now, he wore tattered, foul-smelling prison clothes and ate leftovers fit for pigs and dogs.

Thinking of his past dissolute and extravagant days, it felt like an unreal nightmare; in these two months of imprisonment, he had tasted all the bitterness of a lifetime.

The day before, the jailer had maliciously told him the verdict for him and his father; watching him howl in terror, the jailer had a look of satisfaction on his face—so this was how much the people of Ningguo were hated.

Now, he dared not think of anything else, lest he be completely crushed by fear.

He was just like a walking corpse, enduring one day at a time.

No one from the clan had come to see him; now that Ningguo had been stripped of its title and raided, its reputation was notorious and it was spurned by the world—who would dare to approach him?

Just then, the jailer suddenly told him in a bad mood that someone had come to visit him.

At that moment, Jia Rong thought he had heard wrong; he had been in prison for so long, and no one had ever come to see him.

And when he saw the appearance of the visitor clearly, he was so shocked that his eyes widened; he never expected that the person who came to see him would be Uncle Cong from the West Mansion.

He had never had any dealings with him, so why would he suddenly come to see him?

Could it be that the Old Lady of the West Mansion could not bear it in her heart after all, and had sent this Uncle Cong to save him?

This Uncle Cong was the most outstanding descendant of the two mansions; he had become an official at a young age, and it was said that he often entered the palace and could speak before the Emperor—he was a person of great ability in the two mansions.

Jia Rong's withered heart seemed to be injected with fresh water, and in an instant, countless fanatical delusions arose.

(End of chapter)