After the court session ended, Qingchen didn't linger and quickly went home.

Today is the day to take her father to the clinic.

Shen Qingchen's father suffers from hysteria. In addition to being confused and mentally unstable, he also has some incoordination in his movements. Because he spends a lot of time indoors, his limbs are showing signs of atrophy. She has to take him to the clinic for treatment every few days.

The doctor at the clinic was a good person and treated her father very seriously. Seeing that her family was in dire straits, he didn't charge her much for the consultation. However, the medicine for treating hysteria was not cheap and would cost Shen Qingchen a lot of money.

After helping her father to the clinic, Shen Qingchen called out "Dr. Cheng". Soon, a young man dressed in plain clothes came out from the inner room, with clear features and a graceful figure like a lush bamboo forest.

The clinic was small, containing only a medicine cabinet, a long table, a sickbed, and a few chairs. Some herbs were drying on the ground in front of the door, and medicine was being decocted on the stove. There was only one doctor here, and he was responsible for treating patients and preparing medicine all by himself.

Cheng Yi went up to help her father, helped him onto the bed for medical examination, and greeted her, "You've come."

"Yes, Dr. Cheng."

He went to the wall table, took a small jar, opened it, scooped a small spoonful of tea leaves into the teapot, and brewed a pot of tea with hot water. "You've come, so I must serve you good tea."

Shen Qingchen took the teacup he offered, thanked him, and then said worriedly, "My father has been talking nonsense more lately, he's not eating much, and he always talks in his sleep at night..."

Since arriving in the capital, they had been seeking medical treatment here, and had known this doctor for a year. Hysteria is very difficult to treat, even in this modern age with such advanced technology, it is still difficult to cure. To Shen Qingchen's surprise, this young doctor was indeed quite skilled; after a year of treatment, his father's condition had improved significantly.

As they got to know each other better, they started talking more. Shen Qingchen often chatted with him, feeling like he was an old friend she had known for many years—easygoing, kind-hearted, and very serious and responsible.

Looking at the handsome and gentle young man before him, an admirable scholar of the Ming Dynasty, Cheng Yi comforted him, "My clinic won't close until I cure your father's illness, don't worry." Then, noticing the pink handkerchief in her hand, he pointed with his chin, "You're injured?"

"I got scratched by a piece of flowerpot, it's a minor injury, nothing serious."

He rolled his eyes at her. "You're sick but you don't call a doctor. Do you know how painful it is for doctors? You can't cure your father's hysteria, but I can still treat a scratch, right?"

"Then I'll trouble you." Shen Qingchen no longer refused and extended her injured hand to him.

"The handkerchief with mandarin ducks playing in the water is tied beautifully. Did you do this, young lady?" He stared at her face as he untied the handkerchief. "You're injured and someone is taking care of you. This scholar is quite lucky."

"No, it's my classmate Gu Shaoheng. This handkerchief was a gift from his cousin."

He nodded, fetched a basin of water and some herbs, and quickly treated her wound.

"Cheng Yi".

"Um?"

"Do you know of a symptom that... makes you feel uncomfortable when you see blood?"

"I know about hemophobia, of course. What, you have this condition?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't me. We have a new teacher, a cabinet minister. He seems to have this condition; such a tall man, yet he seems very uncomfortable seeing the little bit of blood I've lost."

"Grand Secretary? Such a high-ranking official." He said as he examined her father, "Bring him here, let me take a look at him. I've cured hemophobia before. If I can cure him this time too, he will be very grateful to you, and he might even look after you more in the officialdom in the future."

Cheng Yi was from the capital city. He had been a student at the Imperial Academy and was said to have passed the provincial examinations, but after failing the imperial examinations, he abandoned his studies to pursue medicine, choosing his passion. His family seemed to be officials, but he never mentioned it, running a small clinic all by himself, like a temporary resident of the capital.

Shen Qingchen smiled and said, "What if it can't be cured?"

He glanced at her somewhat displeasedly, "Trust me, it's not a difficult illness. I can cure it, and he'll definitely owe you a debt of gratitude."

She didn't know where he got his confidence from, but she was very grateful. "Thank you."

"You're always so polite with me." Cheng Yi said while busying herself, "I need to give your father acupuncture today. We're out of mugwort. Sit down for a while, I'll go buy some from the side and come right back." She started to walk out, but stopped halfway and instructed, "Don't wander off, and don't secretly put anything under my pillow."

Shen Qingchen remained noncommittal, saying, "Go ahead."

Cheng Yi refused to accept too much money from her consultation, which made her feel a little guilty. She would often slip some money under his pillow, and the next time she came, Cheng Yi would scold her.

After Cheng Yi left, only the father and daughter remained in the clinic. Following the method Cheng Yi had taught her, Qingchen gently stroked her father's back and talked to him to help him relax so that Cheng Yi could administer acupuncture later.

Not long after, a person suddenly stumbled in through the door, covered in blood.

He wore a black robe with a blue collar, a knife at his waist, and was covered in wounds; his lips were purple. After struggling into the clinic, he collapsed weakly to the ground. Before Shen Qingchen could react, he saw the man draw a knife from its sheath and point it at him. "Save me!"

This man was quite handsome, but possessed a resolute demeanor. His gaze was like two cold bolts of lightning, carrying a sharp edge. There was a thin, faint scar, about an inch long, under his right eyebrow.

"I...I'm not a doctor. The doctor went to buy medicine." Shen Qingchen took two steps back and explained nervously, "But he'll be back soon, just wait a bit."

The man clutched his wounds, frowning. "Besides these injuries, this arrow is also poisoned with snake venom. I can't wait a moment longer. Help me detoxify immediately, or I'll make you pay with your life." He stared at her fiercely, his eyes bloodshot, his face covered in a mixture of blood and sweat, and the gleam of the knife in his trembling hand was cold and sharp.

Having grown up in a harmonious socialist society, Shen Qingchen had only ever seen such scenes in movies. Now, experiencing it firsthand, she couldn't help but gasp. "I really don't know how to treat illnesses. The doctor is right here. I'll go and call him back. Wait a moment."

As she passed the man, her robe was grabbed tightly. The man's knife was already at her leg. "There's no time. Help me pull out the poisoned arrowhead, or the poisoned blood won't drain out. Do as I say, or I'll kill that old man first."

This small clinic rarely gets any customers, and it's getting dark. If he gets angry and decides to kill, my father's life will be in danger. Besides, judging from the man's condition, he seems to be in great pain; if he doesn't receive treatment soon, he might die.

Shen Qingchen looked down at the man's face, which was fierce yet pleading, then looked at his bewildered father, gritted his teeth and said, "It's not that I don't want to save you, it's just that I really don't know how. If you're not afraid of my clumsiness, I can try, but I've never done it before, I've only... only seen others do it."

She'd only ever seen things like cutting flesh and pulling out arrows in movies and TV shows, and she only had a basic understanding of surgery and dealing with snake venom. That was far from enough for her to actually use a knife to save a dying person. However, Cheng Yi was nearby, so she decided to make some preparations first; maybe he'd be back before she even had a chance to act.

The man said weakly, "Cut the flesh open and take out the arrowhead. What's so difficult about that? Stop talking nonsense and get to work." Then he loosened Shen Qingchen's robe.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, then took a small knife for cutting herbs and a strip of cloth, poured the water that Cheng Yi had just heated into a wooden basin, and brought it to the person's side.

She soaked the cloth strips and roughly wiped away the bloodstains from the arrow wound on the man's thigh. Then she helped him up and leaned him against the wall. "The wound must not be higher than your heart, otherwise it will accelerate blood circulation. Hold on, and don't lie down."

The man nodded, his half-closed eyes fixed on Shen Qingchen's face. The man before him had long eyelashes, handsome features, and his brows were furrowed slightly with tension, his gaze clear as a still pool. Although he verbally declined, his actions were swift and decisive; he clearly knew what he should do and was not flustered or at a loss.

"Thank you, you will definitely be able to save me."

Shen Qingchen anxiously looked towards the door, but still couldn't see Cheng Yi. Trembling, she heated the knife over the candle flame. "There's no time to put any anesthetic on you. I don't know what's in here. Besides, the tools are very rudimentary. This knife isn't very sharp, so it will definitely be a bit dull when you cut. So... it will hurt a lot."

There was almost no surgery in the Ming Dynasty, and Cheng Yi's small clinic was poorly equipped. Moreover, she, an amateur, was performing the surgery. As Shen Qingchen thought about it carefully, sweat dripped down her forehead.

The man, however, remained resolute, looking at the strip of cloth in the basin and saying, "Go ahead and do it. Just give me that strip of cloth, and I will absolutely not make a sound, nor will I struggle or interfere with you."

She wrung out the strips of cloth that had been used to wipe the blood from the basin, put them in his mouth and made him bite down on them. Then she saw him nod to her, indicating that she could begin.

Shen Qingchen frowned as she stared at the broken arrow in his thigh, the skin around it already a large patch of purplish-red. She held the knife, gesturing towards his thigh, but just as the tip was about to pierce the flesh, she suddenly tensed up, "I...I might not be able to, I really can't. I've never done this before. This arrow is deep. If I accidentally injure your tendons or bones, then you'll lose this leg."

The man removed the gag from his mouth. "If you don't do it, I'll lose my life. What use are legs to me? Please, brother." Then he stuffed the gag back in, looking at her with pleading eyes.

Although they were complete strangers, it was still a precious human life. Shen Qingchen forced herself to raise the knife again. Her wide sleeve slipped down, revealing a slender wrist with a faint blue vein visible beneath her fair skin.

After several internal struggles, the knife tip finally pierced the man's skin and was slowly pushed down. The man trembled in pain, his head covered in sweat. He closed his eyes and struggled with his strong arms to support his upper body.

The cutting wasn't going smoothly, so Shen Qingchen stopped, looking at him with sad eyes: "The knife is really too dull..."

The man tilted his head, half-opened his eyes, and said in a weak voice, "Do you want me to work on you a bit first...?"