Chapter 12 : Chapter 12

Chapter 12: House Call

Dawn broke, the world still shrouded in gray.

I slowly sat up in bed, instinctively reaching for the phone by my pillow, but nothing was there.

In that moment, I realized the world I once lived in was no longer within reach—it had become my hometown.

“Wait, shouldn’t I be in the courtyard?” My last memory was practicing the Stone-Bearing Stance by the apricot tree, but I woke up in the west wing, still in last night’s tattered clothes.

Did Master bring me back? Or my senior brothers? I couldn’t be sure—I didn’t remember a thing.

At this moment, the icy current lay quiet in my dantian, no longer the ferocious force it was last night.

I pondered: “Who caused this icy current this time? The first came from Zhou Chengyi, the second…”

In both instances, multiple people died, but the ordinary people at Zhou Chengyi’s residence didn’t produce the current, nor did the maids who died at Evening Star Courtyard…

Could this time be from the fetus Consort Jing miscarried?

As I thought, She Dakang, at the far end of the shared bed, jolted upright, muttering with closed eyes: “Master, just beat me to death! If I’m gone, no one will care for you in your old age!”

I turned, speechless. He collapsed back with a thud, still asleep—dream talk.

The rooster hadn’t yet crowed.

Oddly, I’d returned at the Chou hour last night and slept less than four hours, yet I felt vibrant, with no trace of fatigue or drowsiness.

Was this a change from the icy current and the Stone-Bearing Stance?

I sat on the bed, lost in thought, then got up, changed clothes, and hoisted a carrying pole. My slender figure shouldered two wooden buckets and headed to Anxi Street outside.

Yesterday, while waiting for family to bring tuition, I’d noticed a well there. The whole neighborhood fetched water from it, and going late meant a long queue.

As I stepped out, I froze. The black cat from Evening Star Courtyard was perched on the grain shop’s eaves across the street, silently watching me.

So it wasn’t an illusion last night—this cat was drawn to the bead in my sleeve, even following me secretly outside the mansion!

I walked along the morning’s bluestone path to the well, the black cat trailing silently on the gray-tiled eaves, its gaze never leaving me.

The long street held only me, the eaves only the cat.

We moved in parallel, cutting through the thin morning mist of autumn, as if crossing vast stretches of time together.

I stopped, balancing the pole, and looked at the cat: “Meow meow?”

The cat stared coldly.

What kind of proper cat meows like that?

Seeing no reaction, I tried: “Sangbiao?”

The cat: “…”

I held out the bead in my palm: “Is this what you want?”

Though battered, the cat gazed at me with noble indifference, unmoving, as if waiting for me to offer it.

I raised my hand slightly.

This time, the cat leaned forward on the eaves, ready to jump and snatch the bead. But as it stretched its neck, I closed my hand, tucking the bead away.

The cat: “…”

It opened its mouth, as if to meow, but held back, too proud.

It resumed its aloof stare.

I slipped the bead into my sleeve and ambled to the well. The cat followed silently, watching coldly, a fresh wound on its brow making it look fiercer.

At the well, I turned the wooden handle to lower a bucket. As I prepared to haul it up, the cat leapt down from the eaves to the well’s edge, gazing up at me.

“You…” I thought for a long time, then said: “You want this bead, right? Here.”

I opened my palm, holding the bead, no longer teasing.

But the cat, perched on the well’s edge, curled its right lip in a slight sneer, as if saying:

I’m not falling for your trick again!

“Wait, are you mocking me?” I couldn’t believe a cat could show such human-like expression. I glanced at the empty street, then placed the bead on the ground and stepped back three meters: “It’s there. Take it.”

Animals have instincts, naturally knowing what to eat or avoid, even seeking antidotes when poisoned.

Humans lack such instincts, eating anything—even poisonous mushrooms for fun…

So I wasn’t worried about the cat eating the bead. I wanted to know why it was drawn to it and what would happen if it swallowed it.

The answer to the icy current lay with this cat.

By the well, the cat cautiously approached, eyeing the bead, then me, with suspicion. After a long pause, it sniffed the bead from a distance.

“Eat it,” I said, watching expectantly.

But as the cat opened its mouth to take it, the snake-like gray mist inside the bead writhed violently, and an invisible force repelled the cat!

“Huh?” I was stunned by this supernatural phenomenon. I was certain an unseen force from the bead had pushed the cat away!

The little cat arched its back, facing the bead in a combat stance, no longer daring to approach.

“Why’s that?” I wondered.

Hoofbeats echoed in the distance.

I turned to see a carriage approaching the clinic, shattering the quiet mist. The driver, looking anxious, sped past me, likely on urgent business.

“Looks like they’re here for Master. I’d better get back,” I said. “Oh, you…”

Turning back, the cat was gone, leaving the bead on the ground.

…

…

I returned to the clinic with my pole, buckets swaying. A carriage was parked outside, pulled by two strong horses with sleek, combed manes.

The wooden carriage was carved with golden sparrow patterns, the tails extending intricately to the rear.

She Dakang was helping the driver load luggage onto the carriage.

I approached, pole in hand: “What’s going on?”

She Dakang’s eyes sparkled with excitement: “Master’s going to treat someone.”

“Why so happy?”

“Of course I’m happy!” She Dakang whispered. “Master’ll be gone at least ten days or half a month. No beatings, no scolding, no tests! Aren’t you thrilled? We can hit East Market, Red Cloth Lane… If my third brother’s helping a noble with a banquet, I can sneak us in to watch a big show. I heard the Ma Family Troupe’s coming back to perform!”

“Who’s he treating?” I asked, curious.

She Dakang lowered his voice: “I heard the Secret Spy Division, chasing Jing Dynasty spies, arrested several young Liu family members and locked them in the Inner Prison. One died under torture. Old Master Liu fainted from rage when he heard and is now on his deathbed.”

My mind flashed to Yunyang’s half-smile at the Zhou residence gate, a lingering sense of danger: “The Secret Spy Division has that much power?”

“You bet,” She Dakang said. “Old Master Liu’s daughter is the Empress Dowager, his son the Minister of Personnel. Even with that status, the Secret Spy Division arrests without hesitation. They say in the martial world, the Division can execute first and report later, with imperial sanction.”

I felt something was off. Even with great power, could the Secret Spy Division really disregard the Empress Dowager and the Minister of Personnel?

As we spoke, Old Man Yao emerged from the clinic, accompanied by a dignified middle-aged man.

Old Man Yao addressed us: “While I’m gone, none of you diagnose patients on your own. If someone brings a prescription, fill it exactly. Don’t mess up the weights and cost me money. I’ll check the inventory first thing when I’m back. Whoever costs me money pays it back!”

My heart sank. I still hadn’t figured out how to handle the ginseng issue. What if Old Man Yao found it during his inventory check?

The middle-aged man said: “Master Yao, let’s go. My family’s waiting, and we need to keep my grandfather alive until my father returns from the capital to see him one last time.”

Old Man Yao nodded: “Let’s go.”

Liu Quxing helped Old Man Yao onto the carriage, which sped off, hooves clattering crisply on the bluestone road.

She Dakang marveled: “How much would a carriage like that cost?”

Liu Quxing grinned: “No taste, huh? See the golden sparrow? Only families with a second-rank official, granted by the Emperor, can use that design. In our Great Ning Dynasty, commoners riding a sedan are overstepping. How many heads do you have to ride a carriage like that?”

She Dakang sneered: “As if you’re really a Liu family member!”

Liu Quxing glared: “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re just a distant branch they barely acknowledge,” She Dakang retorted. “My family’s poor but proud. We earn our living at the docks by our own skill, not clinging to nobles.”

Liu Quxing fumed: “I went to Old Master Liu’s ninetieth birthday banquet with my parents!”

“Yeah, at the servants’ table.”

“You son of a!”

I watched, speechless, as they brawled back into the clinic. Suddenly, I sensed something odd and turned to see the little black cat hadn’t left—it was hiding in the shadows of the eaves across the street, secretly watching us.