Day Fourteen

Wen Congyin had been busy all morning at the pediatric clinic. At noon, Xu Xiangfei insisted on treating her to a meal. Wen Congyin couldn’t refuse and reluctantly followed her to the state-run restaurant, where they ordered a bowl of soft beef noodles.

During the meal, Xu Xiangfei looked at Wen Congyin with admiration. “Little Wen, you really are modest. With your medical skills, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Dr. Sun loves talent and would have definitely brought you on as a doctor.”

Wen Congyin smiled faintly. “Let’s not talk about the past. I’m about to join the military now.”

Mentioning this made Xu Xiangfei feel a pang of regret.

Finding a promising young talent skilled in traditional Chinese medicine was so rare, and just as she was discovered, she was leaving.

She sighed. “Well, thank you for today. If you hadn’t helped us out, Doctor Zhao and I might have lost face.”

She took an envelope out of her bag and handed it to Wen Congyin. “This is your pay. They paid seven hundred yuan, and I didn’t take a cent. It’s all yours.”

“Thank you, Sister Xu,” Wen Congyin said, pocketing the money without hesitation. She picked up her water cup. “Sister Xu, thank you for taking care of me these past few days at the hospital. If you ever need anything, just write to me. I might not always be able to help, but as the saying goes, three ordinary minds can match a brilliant strategist. At least I can contribute a third of a brilliant mind’s effort.”

Xu Xiangfei laughed at this, clinking her cup against Wen Congyin’s. “Alright, just for that, you’re my little sister from now on!”

After receiving the money, Wen Congyin went home to pack her things. She had told Geng’s father not to see her off yesterday, and true to her word, he didn’t take leave and went to work as usual.

However, Zhou Yanhong, seeing her packing and about to leave, hesitated, wiping her hands on her apron. “Little Wen, your father gave you quite a bit of money yesterday. Once you leave, he won’t have a daughter nearby to take care of him…”

Wen Congyin stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Zhou Yanhong. “Aunt Zhou, there’s a saying: don’t take advantage and then act innocent. You and your daughter’s scheming—don’t think no one sees through it. We just choose not to say anything. My advice? Be content and know when to stop.”

“What do you mean by that? What scheming are we doing?” Zhou Yanhong’s face immediately fell, clearly offended by the sharp remark. Perhaps because Wen Congyin was leaving smoothly and her own daughter was about to soar, her temper flared.

“You both know perfectly well.” Wen Congyin said calmly. “If I had stayed to look after my father, I’m afraid you wouldn’t have been happy.”

Zhou Yanhong’s expression darkened, but fearing Wen Congyin might actually stay, she dared not say more. After they left, she angrily cursed a few times under her breath.

Wen Congli cautiously stepped out of the master bedroom. “Mom, how did it go?”

Zhou Yanhong glared at her. “Didn’t you hear? That little girl— we really underestimated her. Thought she had no cunning, but turns out she has plenty!”

She plopped down on a chair as she spoke.

Wen Congli grew anxious. “What about my dowry? I saw it yesterday— that trunk is full of gold and jade jewelry!”

These days, Wen Congli had been doing everything she could to curry favor with Zhao Shiren. Zhao’s family seemed somewhat softening, but he mentioned his parents had high standards and wouldn’t easily accept an ordinary girl.

Wen Congli planned to bribe her future in-laws, especially the mother-in-law, with gifts. Growing up in the countryside, she knew well that the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship was paramount.

She had intended to press Zhou Yanhong to make Wen Congyin reveal some information today, but before she could say anything, Wen Congyin had already shut her down.

The train platform was crowded with people.

Wen Congyin had already arranged for her belongings to be checked in. Holding Zhao Lina’s hand, Geng Xu carried several suitcases, while Zhang Yang and his wife watched them off, clearly reluctant to part.

Zhang Yang’s wife worked at the neighborhood committee, warm and considerate. “You’re leaving already? Why not stay a few more days? Lina and I just started getting close.”

Geng Xu replied, “Sister-in-law, we don’t want to leave either, but the army is pushing us to return. If you ever have a chance, come visit us—we’ll treat you as hosts.”

Zhang Yang laughed. “We’ll remember that. We heard there’s plenty of seafood in Fujian Province. Next time we come, we’ll try everything and make you empty your wallet.”

His wife shot him a look. “Know when to keep your mouth shut. Some things are better left unspoken; we know that well enough.”

Wen Congyin couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds good. Don’t worry, Old Geng is stingy, but I won’t let him be.”

Old Geng…

Geng Xu glanced at her. The train whistled as it pulled into the station. The crowd surged, eager to board.

There was no time to say more. Wen Congyin held Zhao Lina, and once the train stopped, Geng Xu bid farewell to Zhang Yang’s family, leading the way with their wicker luggage.

From Beijing to Fujian was an incredibly long journey.

From north to south, spanning all across China.

They first took the train, then transferred to buses, and finally switched to a boat. Over two thousand kilometers, it took more than five days.

For the first time, Wen Congyin discovered she was seasick. After boarding the boat, she felt dizzy and nauseous. Despite pressing acupuncture points on herself, she still vomited.

Lying on the bed, she didn’t want to move—just wanted to be a dead fish.

As she was lost in thought, the door opened. Hearing the noise, she turned to see Geng Xu and little Zhao Lina entering, both carrying something.

She was about to sit up when Geng Xu said, “Take it easy, don’t get up too fast. Lina and I brought dinner.”

Dinner was steaming hot: plain rice porridge with side dishes—olives, pickled vegetables, and scallion omelet.

Though the meal seemed simple, it whetted Wen Congyin’s appetite. Sitting up, she helped set the table. “Where did you get the porridge and side dishes?”

She had inquired last night; the ship’s dinner was seafood fried rice.

The seafood was freshly caught, whatever was hauled up in the net was served that evening.

Normally, Wen Congyin would have eagerly eaten it, but seasickness made the fishy smell unbearable. She had taken just two bites of the seafood fried rice before vomiting again.

“The kitchen staff eat separately. They heard you couldn’t eat seafood, so they saved some for us,” Geng Xu said, serving her a bowl of thin porridge.

Wen Congyin glanced at him. She wasn’t a fool—there were no such things as free lunches. At sea, eggs were scarce and probably expensive.

After swallowing the warm rice porridge, accompanied by a few bites of salty, crunchy pickles, her rebellious stomach seemed soothed by the warmth. She gradually relaxed, then noticed Lina only eating pickles. She gave the girl a bite of the egg and hesitated before offering some to Geng Xu as well.

Though married, they barely knew each other well, having met less than half a month ago and still unfamiliar with each other’s tastes.

Geng Xu ate without comment, and Wen Congyin breathed a sigh of relief. In her previous life, she hadn’t been close to men. Though her profession required examining many men, including intimate areas, she instinctively kept her distance. Many men had wives or girlfriends, and as a doctor, giving advice was routine, but some always misinterpreted her intentions.

Especially since many of her patients were influential or wealthy, rumors and malicious suspicions were inevitable.

“Eat some too,” Geng Xu offered, reciprocating.

Startled, Wen Congyin instinctively thanked him. He raised an eyebrow and said lightly, “We’re husband and wife. No need to thank me.”

She almost choked on her food.

Setting down her bowl, she turned away and covered her mouth with a handkerchief, coughing for a while.

“Little Aunt, drink some water.” Zhao Lina ran to the bedside cabinet, poured a cup, and handed it to Wen Congyin.

After drinking, the flush on Wen Congyin’s face faded. She wanted to thank Lina but remembered Geng Xu’s words and swallowed it back. She patted the girl’s head to encourage her and casually changed the subject.

“Is your nephew staying with someone else?”

Geng Xu shrugged, casual. “Before leaving, I entrusted him to Zhao’s captain’s wife, Sister Ge. They have three children. Xiangyang stays with them, so he won’t be lonely.”

“What’s the child’s temperament like?”

Noticing Lina quietly eavesdropping, Wen Congyin guessed the girl was worried and probed further.

Geng Xu thought for a moment. “Xiangyang is a bit mischievous but not unruly. He’s eight this year. I plan to send him to school next September.”

“There’s a school on the island?”

Her interest piqued.

Geng Xu nodded. “The island has everything—a hospital, schools, a supply and marketing cooperative. Sometimes there’s a market, though not as well-stocked as in big cities.”

“That’s enough. What more could you want?”

Wen Congyin took the opportunity during dinner to inquire about the island. They belonged to the 31st Division, 2nd Brigade. The island had three regiments, but there were more leaders than just three commanders, including deputy commanders, political commissars, staff officers, and brigade commanders.

As she listened, she quietly memorized the hierarchy.

Though never imagining marrying a soldier before, now that she was married, she had to be mindful.

Although the military was less affected by the WG influence, it wasn’t immune.

Still, the fact that Geng Xu, a rightist, was being trusted with responsibility showed the state valued talent above all.

Perhaps due to the warm porridge, Wen Congyin slept well that night.

The next day at noon, the boat was about to dock on the island.

Dr. Sun had been away on a business trip for over half a month. Upon returning to Beijing, without resting, he went straight to the hospital.

Xu Xiang was reviewing prescriptions she had recorded a few days prior when she heard the commotion outside, assuming it was nurses chatting. When someone knocked, she looked up and saw Dr. Sun return, her face brightening. “Teacher Sun, you’re back today?”

Sun Zhenhua smiled warmly, his hair streaked with gray but his spirit lively. The trip hadn’t aged him a bit. “Little Xu, busy?”

“No, just looking over prescriptions.” Xu Xiang stood to greet him and poured tea. “You were gone over half a month. We were all anxiously awaiting your return, worried Nanjing might keep you.”

Sun Zhenhua chuckled as he accepted the tea. “The military hospital didn’t want to let me go. I told them if they didn’t release me, next year half the herbs would have to come through us. That made it worthwhile. They thought it over and finally let me go.”

Xu Xiang burst out laughing. “They’re stingy! With your expertise, half the herbs wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

Although working in pediatrics, Sun Zhenhua also handled health care for high-ranking officials.

He said, “I’m not that skilled. The military hospital has some impressive experts. I was enlightened by the experience. You have to keep discussing with your peers. Always hiding won’t lead to improvement. In recent years, many valuable prescriptions and medical books have been donated. We should petition the higher-ups to share these. They can’t just sit idle; they have to be put to use.”

“You mentioned that—can you take a look at these prescriptions?”

Xu Xiang handed over her notebook.

Sun Zhenhua’s eyes scanned it, then he paused at a particular case, intrigued. He exclaimed and took the notebook. Wen Congyin had seen seven or eight patients that day, each with a different prescription, even modifications to the minor blue dragon decoction.

Xu Xiang had followed up and found most patients improved after three doses, some after just one.

“Where did these prescriptions come from?”

Sun Zhenhua finished reviewing the cases and prescriptions, increasingly impressed. He looked up and asked, “Is this from Elder Deng at Xiehe Hospital? Or Elder Chen at the Third Hospital?”

Xu Xiang’s mouth opened and closed. These were renowned figures in Beijing’s traditional Chinese medicine pediatrics. “No, no. It’s from a nurse at our hospital.”

“A nurse?” Sun Zhenhua was stunned.

After Xu Xiang explained the situation, Sun Zhenhua suddenly stood up, stomping anxiously. “You—you always say you lack staff, so how did you let such a young and capable one go? These prescriptions are outstanding. Even I can’t write better ones. You all…”

He was nearly exasperated to the point of despair.

Training a good traditional Chinese medicine doctor is no easy task. Many become famous only after their forties or fifties because TCM requires mastering so much—inspection, inquiry, pulse diagnosis, understanding medicinal properties, and numerous schools of thought, each with strengths.

Sun Zhenhua’s regret was that from the prescriptions, Wen Congyin had mastered not only the Cold Damage School but also the Fire God School and the Classical Formula School.

Her precise control over medicinal effects showed deep knowledge of both the herbs and the patients’ conditions. Too strong a prescription harms the body; too weak fails to work.

Xu Xiang watched Sun Zhenhua’s heartfelt sorrow as he examined the notes, her mouth slightly agape.

Only then did she truly realize that Wen Congyin’s medical skills were indeed remarkable.