medicine
Ji Wang had already woken up. He lay on his side, propping his head up with his elbow, not moving at all, just staring unblinkingly at the person still sleeping soundly beside him.
Bu Jiu faced him, his dark hair spreading across the pillow, a few strands clinging to his cheek. He slept soundly, his long eyelashes drooping peacefully, curled up beside the person he trusted most, surrendering his most unguarded side completely.
As Ji Wang watched, the thought of pulling him up to practice swordsmanship was largely dispelled by his sleeping face.
But he couldn't resist any longer, and then he remembered that Bu Jiu had indeed promised to accompany him to the back mountain to stretch his muscles yesterday.
Ji Wang first called out in a breathy voice, "Bu Jiu...?"
The person on the bed remained completely still, not even a tremor of their eyelashes.
Ji Wang waited a moment, then leaned a little closer, her fingers hovering in the air, wanting to touch his cheek, but reluctant to do so, so she softly reminded him: "...Didn't we agree that you would accompany me to practice swordsmanship this morning?"
There has still been no response.
Ji Wang was at a loss.
He stared at Bu Jiu's slightly pursed lips, and the way his nostrils rose and fell with his breath... A more intimate term slipped to his lips.
He cleared his throat, lowered his voice, softened it, making it even lower and softer, with a slightly sticky tone, and whispered, "Sweetheart?"
This sound, almost a whisper from between the lips, was imbued with a unique and enchanting quality because of those two words.
Bu Jiu's brow twitched, but he still showed no signs of waking up.
Ji Wang waited for a while, but when he still didn't react, the little bit of grievance in her heart began to surface.
He pouted, moved his face closer, almost touching Bu Jiu's nose, and began his "ultimate weapon" in a nasal, aggrieved tone: "Ugh..."
A short, sharp cry, like the whimper of a small animal.
"Ugh..." He groaned again, this time drawing out the sound, as if he were truly in great distress.
He pretended to cry while secretly opening one eye, waiting for Bu Jiu's reaction.
Bu Jiu finally moved a few times, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if his peaceful dream had been disturbed by the faint noise.
His lips moved slightly, and he made a sleepy, nasal sound: "Hmm?"
Ji Wang immediately perked up and started faking her tears even more: "You're ignoring me! You promised to practice swordsmanship with me..."
Bu Jiu laboriously opened his eyes a crack, his gaze hazy and unfocused, clearly still very sleepy.
He raised his arm, which felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and groped around haphazardly. Finally, he gently placed his palm on Ji Wang's mouth, which was making "woo-woo" sounds.
The force was not strong, even quite gentle; it was merely a "shush" gesture.
Bu Jiu mumbled, "Stop fooling around, sleep a little longer..."
After she finished speaking, her hand slid down softly and rested on Ji Xiang's half-raised arm. Her breathing quickly became even again, as if her momentary clarity had been fleeting.
Ji Wang: "..." Never mind, practicing swordsmanship is not as important as Bu Jiu sleeping.
Ji Wang took Bu Jiu's slipped hand in his palm and carefully tucked the blanket around him.
He looked at Bu Jiu's relaxed sleeping face and listened to his steady breathing, and felt his eyelids getting heavy. So he simply moved closer to Bu Jiu, closed his eyes, and soon the even breathing became two separate breaths.
Huaiqing was standing in front of the small stove at the entrance of the pharmacy, holding a palm-leaf fan and slowly fanning the fire when she heard a dispute coming from afar, each person speaking with an increasingly self-righteous tone.
Huaiqing immediately guessed who it was, without even lifting her eyelids, until the three figures moved closer, pulling and tugging and arguing, almost blocking the door of the pharmacy, before she stopped fanning herself with her palm leaf fan.
"What's wrong?" He glanced at the three people in front of him.
Xun Jing looked helpless, as if saying, "Here we go again." You Hang rubbed his forehead, while Gui Tiao counted on his fingers as if calculating something.
When Xun Jing saw Huai Qing ask a question, he sighed first and pointed to his two colleagues beside him: "They're arguing again. They're arguing about which sect's magic weapon to bring on the trip to the far north, each insisting that their sect's treasure is the best. Sect Leader Ji hasn't even gotten up yet, and he's asking you for advice."
Before he could finish speaking, Gui Tiao interrupted, speaking rapidly like popping beans: "Of course our Warm Sun Pendant is better! Mr. Huaiqing, you be the judge. It's gentle and long-lasting, wearing it is like carrying a sun in your pocket, and you don't even need to bother activating it, so convenient!"
As he spoke, he gestured to illustrate what it would look like to wear it around his waist.
You Hang waited for him to finish speaking in rapid succession before speaking slowly and deliberately: "When the Warm Sun Pendant encounters extreme cold or sudden impact, its protection may be insufficient. My Mystic Ice Mirror uses cold to ward off cold, not only resisting external cold but also stabilizing the spiritual power of the heart meridian."
She looked at Gui Tiao: "It's not about competing to see who's better, but this trip is dangerous, and we need to choose the safest option."
"Safe? Your magic weapon is slow to activate and consumes a lot of energy!" Gui Tiao immediately retorted, then seemed to recall some excellent argument:
"Besides, your Zongtian Pavilion was established a full year, three months, and twenty-five days later than our Changfeng Sect! Our experience in refining such high-level magic treasures is definitely much greater!"
The moment the last sentence, "late establishment of the sect," was uttered, You Hang's face flushed with anger: "How can the timing of establishing a sect be directly equated with the quality of a magic weapon! Although my Zongtian Pavilion was established late, we have learned from many others in the art of weapon crafting, and there are many who have surpassed us!"
"That's just conjecture!"
"This is a reasonable inference based on historical records!"
"Classic texts? Your classic texts might just be copies of our early manuscripts that were circulated!"
The two of them talked back and forth, their voices gradually rising, and it seemed that their discussion was about to escalate from "discussing treasures" to "discussing history," and there was even a hint that they were about to roll up their sleeves.
Xun Jing stood in the middle, his left hand blocking You Hang and his right hand blocking Gui Tiao, looking utterly hopeless. He could only turn his pleading gaze to Huai Qing, the only one who might be able to keep things in check.
As Huaiqing listened to the increasingly childish argument, her gaze shifted from the nearly boiling medicine pot to the three faces in front of her, some excited, some angry, and some helpless.
He didn't say anything, but slowly picked up the palm-leaf fan again and fanned the fire lightly.
"call--"
A gust of wind carrying a strong medicinal smell blew right onto the three of them.
Both of them choked simultaneously and stopped talking at the same time. If Xun Jing hadn't held his breath beforehand, he probably would have been choked by the smell of the medicine too.
Huaiqing then put down the palm-leaf fan, used a damp cloth to cushion her hands, and took the medicine pot off the stove with unhurried movements: "So, you disturbed my peace and quiet so early in the morning that the medicine for calming my mind was overcooked, just for this?"
He picked up a clean, empty bowl and used a wooden spoon to scoop out the thick, black liquid from the medicine pot: "...why don't you just bring both?"
His voice was soft and gentle, as if he were saying, "Have some porridge or some pancakes for breakfast, both are fine."
You Hang and Gui Tiao were both taken aback, and even Xun Jing blinked, clearly not expecting this turn of events.
"The journey to the far north is long and fraught with uncertainty." Seeing their stunned expressions, Huaiqing explained gently, her voice devoid of any anger. "The Warm Sun Pendant is gentle and long-lasting, suitable for ordinary travel and defense, while the Mystic Ice Mirror is stable and comprehensive, and may be able to deal with unexpected dangers. The two have different characteristics and can complement each other, so why must one be chosen over the other?"
He set the steaming bowl of obviously bitter medicine aside to cool, then crossed his arms and looked at the three of them: "If we must decide a winner, how about this, you two..."
He nodded to Youhang and Guitiao: "Go to the training ground now and fight with your sect's magic weapons. Whoever's magic weapon breaks first loses. The loser is responsible for drinking the whole pot of Qingxin medicine that was ruined in the hut today, not a single drop is allowed."
Youhang and Guitiao fell silent instantly, their Adam's apples bobbing as they stared at the bowl of thick, dark medicine.
Xun Jing was the first to react: "Mr. Huaiqing is absolutely right! The two magic treasures have distinct characteristics and can complement each other perfectly! I will go and draft a new plan for the allocation of magic treasures."
He was very proactive, and as he spoke, he turned around to get to work.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Gui Tiao called out to him, still looking a little embarrassed, but her tone had softened considerably. "Well... we still need to try and see if the two spiritual energies will conflict, and whether alternating between them is smooth..."
Seeing that they were finally able to discuss things calmly, Huaiqing smiled and nodded with satisfaction: "That's right. Go and get busy, don't argue anymore."
His gaze returned to the bowl of medicine, and he added softly, "Although this medicine was overcooked, I can adjust the dosage. If any of you still feel hot inside, you can come and ask for a bowl to really soothe your heat later."
Upon hearing this, the three men immediately shook their heads in unison and said, "No need! Thank you, sir!"
After saying that, they turned around together and walked towards the disciples' residence, discussing in hushed tones as they walked. Although there was still some debate, it was now a pragmatic discussion rather than a fight of egos.
Watching their departing figures, Huaiqing murmured to herself, "Young people..."
He then looked at the strong, almost overpowering aroma of the medicinal liquid in the bowl and hesitated for a moment.
Driven by a doctor's instinct to test medicine and also out of curiosity about what the finished product would taste like, he picked up the bowl, brought it to his lips, and took a tiny sip.
The moment the medicine entered my mouth, an indescribable taste, a mixture of extreme bitterness and a certain burning sensation from herbs, instantly swept over my tongue, then spread throughout my mouth, even bringing a slight numbing sensation.
Huaiqing's usually gentle and calm brows immediately furrowed uncontrollably, her lips pressed into a thin line, before she could barely swallow that small mouthful.
"Cough..." He put down the medicine bowl, pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and tried to dispel the stubborn bitterness.
It's really tough.
It was even more bitter than he had expected, probably because he had used twice the amount of Coptis chinensis root and cooked it too intensely, bringing out all the bitter and pungent components.
He stared at the remaining medicine in the bowl and remained silent for two seconds.
Throw it away? That would be a waste of medicinal herbs, and it's not his style.
He'll drink it all himself? The experience from that small sip was profound enough; he's not a masochist.
"Fine... It's too painful, I'll give it to Bujiu."
He placed the medicine bowl on a warm jade platform specifically for warming medicine, adjusted the temperature of the low-heat array underneath, and ensured that the medicine would still be warm and at its most potent when the patient was not awake, although it would also be at its most bitter.
After finishing all this, he sat back down in front of the medicine furnace, picked up new herbs, and continued sorting them, the faint smile on his lips never fading.
The morning light fell on his profile, gentle and kind, as if the thought of pushing the "troublesome task" onto someone else had never existed.
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