Chapter Fifty-Five: A Misunderstanding

Xu Ruojin entrusted all the maids to Hongxing, then turned her attention back to her books.

Because Madam Fang had spoken with Madam Yang in advance, Ruojin’s list for the brewing ingredients was approved without a hitch. Yet this time, rather than immediately setting about brewing, she wrote down several recipes for medicinal wine and waited for the physician who was due to visit her.

After her last bout of drunkenness, Xu Yaohui had specifically ordered that a doctor come to check on his second daughter’s pulse every ten days. Silver was not to be spared where her health was concerned. Though Ruojin had yet to see what her monthly allowance looked like, her treatment had obviously improved.

As she glanced over the prescriptions she’d prepared, Ruojin suddenly recalled Hemiao. She had discussed with Chuncao the matter of bringing Hemiao into her service as her personal maid, but to this day, Chuncao had not managed to leave the estate, let alone get in touch with Hemiao.

Studying the ingredients listed on her prescription, Ruojin picked up her brush and carefully recopied the formula, omitting two of the ingredients. She waited for the ink to dry, then sat ready for the doctor’s arrival.

Doctor Cen did not arrive at the Xu residence until late afternoon. After greeting Madam Yang, he was led by a maid to Ruojin’s small courtyard. Hongxing waited at the door, and upon seeing him, announced, “Second Miss, Doctor Cen is here.”

“Please, have him come in,” Ruojin replied, signaling to Chuncao, who promptly prepared tea.

After a few words of greeting, Doctor Cen took her pulse and nodded, “Miss Xu has already recovered for the most part. The rest will take time to heal—there’s no need to rush. Let it happen naturally.”

“Now that Doctor Cen has said so, my heart is at ease,” Ruojin replied, her compliment making the doctor stroke his beard with pleasure. “You flatter me,” he demurred, though clearly content.

“It’s no flattery at all. Honglin Hall is the best clinic in Zhonglin County, and you are its famed physician. If I can’t trust your word, there’s no one else I could trust,” Ruojin said sweetly.

Doctor Cen relaxed a bit more, replying, “It is my honor to have your trust, Miss Xu.”

“I do have a matter I wish to consult you about,” Ruojin said, having finished her flattery and now revealing her real purpose. Before the doctor could reply, she produced the medicinal wine recipes she’d written.

“There’s no point hiding it from you—everyone knows I’m learning to brew wine. Last time, I nearly caused a disaster and have been on edge ever since. This time, I must beg for your guidance. Could you look over these recipes and tell me if they’re appropriate?”

“If there’s anything wrong, please don’t hesitate to say so,” she added.

Her request made Doctor Cen feel somewhat uneasy. After all, he’d heard the story of how her last attempt at brewing had caused Li Zhonglin to collapse on the street with a severe nosebleed.

No one had remembered the prescription she’d recited at the time, so naturally, no one had told Doctor Cen. He had even used her as a cautionary tale for his apprentices: “See what happens when you act recklessly with prescriptions? That’s the consequence.”

Of course, Ruojin had no idea she’d become Doctor Cen’s negative example, and yet here she was, earnestly seeking his advice.

Doctor Cen felt a twinge of guilt. He meant to refuse her, but seeing the eager light in her eyes, he found himself unable to say no. Perhaps he could use this opportunity to advise her: reckless ambition is dangerous, and making simple fruit wines would suffice. Medicinal wine was no child’s play—it could be deadly.

“Very well, let me have a look,” he conceded.

“Oh, thank you, Doctor Cen!” Ruojin handed over the prescriptions, blinking rapidly—she’d overdone her act and her eyes were dry.

Doctor Cen took the list and glanced over it with the intent to admonish her, but his attention was caught by the writing itself.

“Five qian of rhubarb, five qian of angelica, five qian of peony, three qian of tree peony bark, eight qian of raw rehmannia… five qian of safflower, ten catties of wine—promotes blood circulation, soothes the sinews, treats bruises and injuries.”

“Eight qian of bupleurum, nine qian of angelica, three qian of red peony, three qian of white peony, three qian of pine nuts, eight qian of five spirits fat… two catties of wine—disperses blood stasis, promotes circulation, for pain and swelling in the chest and flanks.”

“Cinnamon, costus root, notopterygium, and qianghuo, eight qian each; corydalis, tree peony bark, turmeric, and lindera, one and a half taels each… warms the meridians, promotes circulation, relieves pain, for cold and damp hernias.”

He read them quickly once, then carefully twice more. Setting the list aside, he closed his eyes in thought, then asked Ruojin, “May I ask, Miss Xu, what was your reasoning for these combinations?”

Ruojin seemed to anticipate the question. Picking up another copy of the prescription, she explained, “In fact, these three recipes are intended for my father, brother, and younger brother. Peony relieves pain, raw rehmannia cools the blood and treats febrile diseases, but it should not be used lightly by those with weak digestion, so I balanced it with angelica and tree peony bark.”

She glanced at the second recipe and continued, “My father is often busy outside and returns with a pale, ashen face. He’s complained of pain and swelling all over and loss of appetite, so I created the second formula. I added five spirits fat because it aids digestion, relieves stuffiness, and helps with cough and phlegm. That’s why I composed it this way.”

“The third formula is for my mother. In colder weather, her hands and feet are always icy, and the cold seeps in, so I made this combination.”

She offered a concise explanation, then humbly asked Doctor Cen for his opinion, “Please, would you review these for me? Is there anything lacking? I only started reading medical texts while learning to brew, so my knowledge is shallow. Please, don’t hesitate to point out any flaws—I will listen carefully.”

Doctor Cen’s eyes flashed with surprise at her explanation! To be honest, there was nothing wrong with these prescriptions. Even if there were slight deviations, they were minor. In all of Zhonglin County, there were perhaps fewer than five doctors capable of composing such formulas.

Yet this was a young woman who had only just begun reading medical texts, not someone with years of study and experience! Still, Doctor Cen found it hard to believe. Did Miss Xu perhaps obtain these recipes elsewhere, bringing them to him for verification to restore her reputation? Or did she hope that with his endorsement, her own fame would rise—that her genius would be acclaimed, and the Xu family’s standing would be elevated?

Such a motive must be at play! Using him in this way—how malicious!

One could hardly blame Doctor Cen for his suspicions, since Madam Xu herself was not known for her integrity, and Xu Zilin even less so.

“May I ask, Miss Xu, do you actually recognize these herbs by sight?” Doctor Cen asked, his smile fading.

Ruojin shook her head awkwardly, “I can only identify the herbs in my own medicine packets. I haven’t seen many of them in person.”

Doctor Cen’s suspicions were confirmed. With a cold snort, he tossed the prescription aside: “In my opinion, these formulas are nothing special.”