Chapter 9: Jade Rabbit Church delivers medicine priest robes...
Looking at the exclusively designed glass bottles of the Invigorating Cream covering the entire medicine table in front of her, Alice followed suit. With a flick of her wrist, the flying spiritual liquid seemed to have intelligence and went to where it should go.
The golden paste solidifies and the transparent bottle is instantly dyed with color, becoming an elegant and eye-catching object in the eyes of the upper class.
Alice suddenly felt a sense of accomplishment, similar to the feeling she had when she turned back into her original form and combed her hair, seeing every strand grow strong and shiny.
Stroking the old friend in her hand, she called the jade pestle back into her body.
When her eyes returned to dark black, she called Anna and Annie in to pack the goods and put them into gift boxes. "There are 500 bottles of the Refreshing Cream here, which should be enough to handle the first batch of orders from London."
"You two have both learned to spell everyday words and count in the orphanage. Remember to sort the reserved gift boxes by checking the register later," Alice instructed. "Also, find some public coaches and have them go to the register to record the ladies' reports. The fares will be paid from the counter. I've agreed with Lizzie that she will be in charge of the accounts. If you have any words you don't know, just ask her."
"This gentleman doesn't need to be counted." Alice picked up a quickly packed gift box and pointed to the last line of deeply engraved words on the registration book.
The thought of her new toy put her in a good mood, and she took the public carriage as usual, along Piccadilly and Shaftesbury Avenue, and arrived at Soho Square, near the address recorded.
After turning a corner, Alice finally saw a church that was somewhat Renaissance-style. It had an elegant and majestic exterior, and although it looked a bit old after years of wind and rain, it also had a unique charm.
After paying the coachman sixpence, she walked into the church, crossed the porch, and immediately saw the figure on the pulpit in front.
He was preaching.
The voice is low and pleasant, like telling a story.
He was neither as ostentatious as Mr. Collins in showing off his sincere gratitude to God and his benefactor, nor as blunt, sharp, or sarcastic as this man's usual speech. Instead, he had a bit of the compassion and altruism of a monk.
Perhaps because there was a fireplace in the church, or perhaps to maintain the solemnity of the sermon, Adrian Moran was only wearing a priest's robe.
The black robe wrapped around the man's entire body, revealing his lean yet powerful figure.
The stand-up collar fits snugly against his neck, and as he delivers his sermon word by word, his Adam's apple rolls up and down the collar, appearing and disappearing.
There weren't many people attending the sermon today, only a quarter of the front row was occupied, so Alice simply found a seat in the church. Her upper body still seemed to be listening to the oracle, but her toes, hidden under the church table, were raised and swaying casually.
Alice looked around, the dome, the murals, the fence... She took in everything. She had to admit, the person before her was the most beautiful.
Adrian Moran, she put his name on the tip of her tongue and tasted it.
This is what it looks like when you put on a priest's robe.
Under the scorching gaze, he seemed to sense something and looked up at the believers. He saw Alice sitting at the back and paused for a moment in his sermon before lowering his head and continuing with what he had just said.
After he finished his sermon, the believers dispersed one by one. She sat at the back with a smile as usual, looking at the man on the pulpit.
The man stopped for a moment and then walked down the wooden platform where he swore his priesthood and came to Alice.
"Is Miss Alice also a devout Christian?" Adrian Moran spoke first. "There are better chapels near Bond Street."
"Of course not. I've never been able to listen to any scriptures since I was a child. I have no connection with God or Jesus." She tapped her chin on the gift box on the table. "I'm here to give you the awakening ointment."
"Didn't Miss Alice say to send someone to report the news?" He looked puzzled.
"On the way." As for whether it was true or not, the two of them knew it.
The church was quiet, with only the sound of shallow breathing.
"Thank you." After a while, the man seemed to have just remembered to answer. He picked up the gift box on the table and held it in his hand. "I'll take Miss Alice out."
Alice held out her left hand, palm upward, and tilted her head to look at him.
"What?" The man was a little absent-minded and flustered.
"Five pounds. Is Mr. Moran going to refuse to pay?" She pretended to be surprised.
He showed a bit of regret, blaming himself for something in his head, and quickly paid the money.
As they walked out of the chapel, before they could say goodbye, a young man dressed as a servant rushed over and shouted to those around him, "Sir, the medicine the surgeon prescribed isn't working. The abscess on Old Martin's back has gotten worse, and he's screaming in pain. The others in the charity hall are getting very restless because of this."
Hearing this, Adrian Moran apologized to Alice and was about to leave to deal with teaching affairs.
"Mr. Moran, why don't you let me take a look?" She pulled the man's sleeve. "I'm afraid no one here knows more about pharmacology than me."
Adrian Moran then remembered why the lady in front of him came here: "Then please ask Miss Alice to go with me."
Entering the Tzu Chi Hall, which was converted from the monastery next to the church, there were some people in tattered clothes sitting or lying inside. The smell was not pleasant, but it was acceptable, much better than the real beggars' dens on the streets of London.
The old man they were talking about was lying facedown on a bench. His clothes had been cut into pieces and hung on his body. His exposed back was covered in large patches of purple and red festering pus. The old man was shaking and crying out in pain.
Alice could tell at a glance that this was an abscess caused by the unclean living environment and poor physical condition.
"Any wine?" she asked.
"Yes." The servant answered subconsciously.
"Go and prepare a large bowl of wine," Alice ordered naturally. "When I came here I saw some honeysuckle growing in the corner of the church. Have you dried and stored the flowers?"
"Honeysuckle? It looks pretty, but it's useless, right?" the servant said quickly.
Adrian Moran glanced at him and replied, "I saw it bloomed beautifully in the summer, so I cut two and dried them to use as bookmarks."
"The ones with vines are the best, take them and keep them for later use."
The servant looked at his master, asking for his opinion. Without hesitation, the master said, "Go get it, John. It's in the book on the top shelf on the left."
It turned out that this was the legendary "Messenger" John. She took a quick glance at him and found nothing special about him except that he had a lot of freckles on his face.
After he hurriedly brought back the two items, Alice continued to explain the subsequent steps: "Add one plant to enough water to cover it, and simmer it slowly over low heat for forty to fifty minutes. Add a bowl of wine and continue to boil. Give the resulting broth to the patient to take in three doses."
"Crush the other one, and mix it with wine, and apply it to the sore," Alice went on. "But we are short of a little herb called liquorice, which will do the best. Take this little medicine to-day, and I'll bring you the honeysuckle with it later."[1]
Adrian Moran said thank you.
After sending Alice away, he asked John to instruct the kitchen workers to prepare the medicine for old Martin, and he took him back to the old house in Camden to give his mother the awakening ointment.
"Mr. Adrian." The old butler Jack still showed superficial respect.
"Where's Mom?" He had gotten used to it over the years and only cared about the answer.
"The old lady is in the garden." The old housekeeper answered in a steady tone.
Adrian Moran walked straight to the garden, but John rolled his eyes at the butler as he passed by. The butler remained calm and pretended not to see anything.
When he saw his mother, he asked John to hand over the gift box in his hand.
"Is this... a wake-up ointment?" The old Countess of Camden opened the gift box and saw the glass bottle inside.
She had naturally heard about the hottest topic in London recently. The color and exquisite vial of ointment in front of her matched the description in the newspaper. "I sent a servant to buy it, but they said it was sold out long ago. I ordered a bottle, but still no news. You ordered one too, right? How did it come so quickly?"
"I'm closer to the store, so I can get the news faster." Adrian Moran lowered his eyes and answered naturally.
"No Miss Alice—" John was stepped on hard by his master and was forced to be silent.
"Miss Alice, the lady who developed the awakening ointment? What happened to her?" The old lady wondered why John suddenly mentioned this lady.
"He probably meant that since Miss Alice expressed in the newspaper that she wanted to benefit women suffering from headaches, it would be normal for her to produce a new batch of medicine as soon as possible," said Adrian Moran.
"That's right." The old countess stopped asking questions and looked at the bottle curiously. "I wonder if it's really as magical as the newspapers say."
Remembering that he had asked a similar question himself, and just now seeing the young lady handling a patient that even surgeons found difficult with ease, he affirmed, "She must have some real skills."
He then repeated Alice's instructions, explaining the dosage and directions for using the awakening ointment, noting that it could be used daily: "Apply it once every morning and evening. It won't be long, Mom, and your headache will be gone."
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to," the old countess scolded her son. "If you cure my fragile nerves, will you never accept another ball invitation?"
Maintaining her elegant demeanor, the noble lady could still deliver a barrage of criticism to her son: "If you don't want to go to the ball, which girl are you going to bring back to me? You've turned down so many balls, and even when you go, I heard you never dance. I'm afraid you've forgotten what your etiquette teacher taught you: which foot to step with first. What will you do if the girl you like turns you down in the future?"
"No, Mom, you know I don't plan to get married, let alone find a wife who loves dancing." Adrian Moran repeated the resolution he had once told his mother. "Apart from exercising my hands and feet, I really don't see any benefit from dancing."
"If you ever fall in love with a girl who likes dancing, I'm really worried about you because of your clumsy behavior," the old countess said disdainfully. "Go away! You've already decided to leave me, your poor old mother, alone once my headache is healed. Why are you coming back to see me?"
Walk out of the old house.
Adrian Moran: "John, it seems that you are not only quick with your hands, but also with your mouth. The job of postman or courier is indeed suitable for you."
"Sir! I will keep my mouth shut next time." John was so upset that he covered his mouth with his hands.
But his nature was hard to change, and he couldn't help but talk more, complaining, "Sir, with the ointment, once the old Countess's headache is cured, you won't have to worry about being forced to socialize with the young ladies anymore. When will you stop being so sharp-tongued? I'm almost poisoned by it lately."
"Yeah, I'm used to it." Adrian Moran said expressionlessly.
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[1] The prescription here is based on Baidu Encyclopedia and other materials.
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