Every year, a disease was cured.
The disease, known as yangmei sores, is syphilis. It gets its name because the ulcers resemble yangmei fruit.
Previously, when Yu Jinnian used the opportunity to check Bai Haitang’s palm, he noticed small sores the size of fingernails scattered from the palm and wrist. The sores were dark red, with clear edges, and nearby were some white patches with peeling skin.
Yangmei sores are highly polymorphic rashes, manifesting as spots, papules, scales, ulcers, and pustules. It is often misleading to judge the condition just by the rash on the hands. But Bai Haitang’s evasive demeanor, as if afraid of being touched, further fueled Yu Jinnian’s suspicion.
If it were truly yangmei sores, with such severe skin symptoms, it was likely no longer in the early stage, probably mid to late-stage syphilis. Yu Jinnian couldn’t help but wonder if there were other symptoms on Bai Haitang’s body.
Regardless, in this place and time, it was a tricky disease.
If untreated, as long as Bai Haitang was alive, anyone in close contact with him would be at high risk of infection, especially Su Ting, who lived and ate with him. Yet, if treated, Yu Jinnian wasn’t confident about a complete cure, as he had only treated patients who had already undergone antibiotic treatments but still had resistant syphilis in their blood.
Su Ting was not innocent, but he didn’t deserve death, let alone involve others. What Bai Haitang had wasn’t just an ordinary rash; it was yangmei sores, one of the top four sexually transmitted diseases, with a mortality rate of over sixty percent. Letting it worsen was not a good omen.
Yu Jinnian couldn’t help but wonder if Su Ting, the petty thief, knew about Bai Haitang’s illness.
“Can I pay for treatment… will it work?”
The sudden voice interrupted Yu Jinnian’s thoughts. He turned around to see Young Master Jiang standing behind them. Engrossed in his concerns, Yu Jinnian hadn’t noticed his arrival.
Of all people, it had to be this little rascal eavesdropping. Yu Jinnian sighed, “Young Master Jiang.”
Jiang Bingren was embarrassed about eavesdropping, but despite Shi Xing’s efforts to stop him, he sneaked over and listened. Sensing something wrong with Brother Nian, he overheard enough to be horrified. Even though he didn’t know much about the world, he knew yangmei sores were a death sentence, with horrifying and foul-smelling symptoms. Even the lucky ones who survived, one or two out of a hundred, would be disfigured.
The thought made him shudder. He sighed, “Bai Haitang is a good person… I’ve listened to his performances since I was little. If it weren’t for that opera troupe dragging him down, he wouldn’t be like this…”
The phrase “since I was little” felt strange, as if implying a significant age gap between him and Bai Haitang, who still looked young. But opera singers often start young, performing while other kids are still playing in the dirt.
No matter how hard or easy life was, illness didn’t show pity for anyone. Disease wouldn’t spare a person just because they were poor.
Yu Jinnian shook his head, “I can’t guarantee a cure.”
Jiang Bingren, not a normal person, was excited. “So, there’s still a chance?”
“Sigh…” Yu Jinnian frowned and stood up to adjust his clothes. “You always pick up on loopholes in people’s words. I was waiting for someone to ask me for help, but you’ve already pleaded for him.”
Jiang Bingren, being clever, guessed whom he referred to and immediately jumped up. “No problem! I’ll drag him over and have him kowtow to you a hundred times first!”
Yu Jinnian waved his hand. “That’s unnecessary. I can’t stand people bowing to me. Just keep him from stealing from me again; our small noodle shop can’t handle more theft.”
“That’s nothing!” Jiang Bingren thumped his chest. “My family owns an oil mill. Let him push the grindstone and press oil. Whether he lives or dies depends on how much he really cares for Bai Haitang. Even a coward should toughen up sometimes.”
Yu Jinnian shrugged. “That’s your specialty. I only save lives.”
Jiang Bingren jumped onto Shi Xing with a laugh, “Big Shi, let’s go!”
——
Su Ting had eaten a cold rejection from the noodle shop earlier today. He lost his money, and his body was still bruised. Afraid that Bai Haitang would worry if he saw his injuries, Su Ting wandered around for a while. Since it was near the New Year, some boys on the street were playing gambling games. With some luck, he won five coins with just two copper pieces. Knowing it was a scam, he didn’t play further and used the money to buy a bag of freshly steamed buns.
But when he returned home, Bai Haitang was gone.
Panic-stricken, Su Ting searched high and low until he found Bai Haitang at the noodle shop. After bringing him back home, Su Ting no longer dared to leave his side. While paying close attention to Bai Haitang, he started cooking rice for the two of them on a small stove. Opening the rice jar, he found only a small amount left. Su Ting decided to save the rice for New Year’s Eve, so he cooked two bowls of taro and vegetable stem porridge and reheated the buns.
He gave all the taro chunks to Bai Haitang while he scooped only the watery part for himself. They sat together to eat.
In their current situation, it was unlikely they’d have meat for the New Year. If Su Ting could find some temporary work to earn a little money for rice, he’d be content. The remaining rice could make porridge or be turned into rice crusts, which could be stored for several days. There was still some sour pickles and a few eggs in the kitchen. After New Year’s Eve, there would be a Nuo parade, and Su Ting planned to join in and hopefully earn some lucky money. He was engrossed in these trivial thoughts, not realizing that Bai Haitang was staring at his bowl without eating.
“Where did you go this morning?”
Su Ting snapped out of his thoughts, realizing Bai Haitang was indirectly asking about his injuries. There was no way to hide it, so he downplayed it. “I originally went to get a doctor for you, but I ran into two beggars. Starving during the New Year, they attacked me, so we ended up in a scuffle. I got a few scrapes, which delayed me. I’m sorry I made you worry.”
Bai Haitang believed him and quietly said, “If it weren’t for me dragging you down…”
Su Ting feared that Bai Haitang was falling into despair again. The last time Bai Haitang tried to burn off his sores still haunted Su Ting. Worried that Bai Haitang might do something drastic, Su Ting spoke earnestly, “These past few years, it’s been you who worked hard to support me while I studied. Now that you’re ill, it’s my turn to take care of you. Otherwise, I’d be like those ungrateful villains in the opera stories! I want to be with you, so there’s no dragging down or not dragging down.”
Normally, Su Ting called him Haitang, but when emotional, he called him “Brother Tang,” which showed his sincerity. Bai Haitang knew he meant it, so he blushed slightly and silently began eating the buns. He didn’t have much appetite, and swallowing hurt his throat. His body was now so thin that it was all bones. But since eating a few more bites made Su Ting happy, he was willing to eat more, knowing he had little else to offer that could bring Su Ting joy.
After finishing their meal, Su Ting helped Bai Haitang settle down for bed. He boiled some water and filled the household’s only bed warmer, intending to place it under Bai Haitang’s blanket. Bai Haitang, however, pushed it away, saying, “I don’t want it. It’s too hot and uncomfortable. You use it, Tinglang.”
Seeing Bai Haitang curled up, his fingertips red from the cold, Su Ting forcibly pressed the bed warmer into his arms. “I’m much sturdier than you. Just hold onto it!”
Once Bai Haitang had fallen asleep, Su Ting stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He looked towards the shadowy corner behind the house, rolling up his sleeves and grabbing a nearby stick. “Do what you want—beat me, kill me—but why are you following us around?” He thought the person was one of the gang members from earlier, but to his surprise, a pampered young master stepped out. Finally recognizing him, Su Ting was taken aback, “Young Master Jiang?”
Lowering the stick slowly, Jiang Bingren spoke haughtily, “Su Ting, is it? Name your price. I want to buy the one inside.”
Young Master Jiang, the notorious playboy of Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant, was infamous in Xinan County for his licentiousness, caring little whether his targets were men or women.
Su Ting’s face contorted in anger, reminiscent of a rooster with its feathers ruffled. He suddenly recalled the lewd, vile things the local thugs had said, their disgusting rumors that were unbearable to hear. Trembling with rage, he swung the stick and cursed, “Who do you think you are?!”
Shi Xing, who had been standing by, blocked Su Ting’s swing. The stick struck his arm and snapped in half, as if hitting iron. Jiang Bingren, unfazed, casually remarked, “I’m quite something, you see. Sell him to me, and I can cure him. The best doctors, the most effective medicine—I have them all. What can you offer him?”
Su Ting was rendered speechless.
Indeed, he had nothing to offer. There were those in this world who had the means to do what he could not. While he was penniless, others had wealth beyond imagination. When Bai Haitang was in his prime, many wealthy men had flocked to his performances. Yet, despite it all, Bai Haitang had chosen him. Over the years, it wasn’t Bai Haitang who had dragged him down; rather, he had burdened Bai Haitang. If only Bai Haitang had found someone more capable earlier in life, someone who could have lifted him out of his suffering, how could he have ended up like this?
Su Ting covered his eyes with his hand. “But I can’t sell Haitang. I’d rather die! If he knew, he really wouldn’t have any will to live…”
Jiang Bingren’s almond-shaped eyes sized Su Ting up, and after lifting Su Ting’s chin for a closer look, he found that this scholar wasn’t bad-looking. Though not as refined as Brother Nian, he was passable. With a smirk, he teased, “If he won’t do, you will. You keep me company, and I’ll get Bai Haitang the medical treatment he needs.”
Su Ting was stunned. “W-what?”
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Jiang Bingren clicked his tongue impatiently. “Are you that dense? Do you really need me to spell it out for you? Think it over. Wash up and come to Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant tomorrow. I’ll keep my word about the doctors and medicine.”
Su Ting stood frozen as he watched the two leave. The young master kicked at a stone and grumbled, “What a filthy alley, so gloomy… Ah! I stepped in dog shit! Shi…”
At the slight furrowing of the young master’s brows, the tall man beside him, who appeared to be a bodyguard, bent down and picked him up. Jiang Bingren, disgusted by the mess on his boots, kicked them off, wrapping his arms around the bodyguard’s neck as he was carried away in leisurely comfort.
Su Ting, his face clouded with worry, returned to the small house. He heard Bai Haitang groan and sat by his bedside, coaxing him back to sleep. Yet, Su Ting himself remained restless throughout the night.
In his dreams, he relived that day long ago. Bai Haitang had told him he was going with the troupe to perform at a wealthy man’s mansion. The man was in the rouge business and was said to be extremely generous. Bai Haitang was hopeful they’d earn a hefty reward. He had always been invited to perform for special occasions, like birthdays, New Year celebrations, and full-month banquets for babies. Su Ting hadn’t thought much of it and had helped Bai Haitang prepare his opera costume, sending him off on the carriage.
But this time, Bai Haitang was gone for much longer than usual—four or five days. When he finally returned, he collapsed into bed, sleeping for two days straight with a fever. Shortly after, Bai Haitang pulled out a large sum of silver, paid for Su Ting’s academy fees, had new clothes tailored for him, bought the finest writing materials, and even made a cloth bag with a secretly embroidered crabapple flower inside.
He had said, “Tinglang, you must study hard and make something of yourself.”
“Tinglang, as long as you’re well, nothing I do will ever feel like a loss…”
“Tinglang…”
Su Ting jolted awake, sitting upright on the wooden bed, drenched in cold sweat. He glanced at Bai Haitang, who was occasionally whimpering in pain, and suddenly felt large, cold tears rolling down his face, streaming into his mouth. He stumbled off the bed and tripped over a nearby stool, not bothering to get up. He crawled on his knees to the bedside and gently held Bai Haitang’s hand through the blanket, muttering, “It’s not a loss for me either… Haitang.”
He went to the kitchen to heat some water and boil a few taro pieces. After washing himself clean and changing into fresh clothes, with his hair still damp, Bai Haitang stirred, awakened by Su Ting’s warm, calloused hand. He opened his eyes, groggy, and asked, “Why are you washing your hair so early?”
“Mm,” Su Ting pulled his hand back from Bai Haitang’s forehead. “There were lice. I used hot water to kill them.”
Bai Haitang, alarmed, offered, “Did you kill them all? Should I help you pick them out?”
Su Ting shook his head. “No need, they’re all gone. Haitang, don’t go back to sleep yet.”
Still drowsy, Bai Haitang asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Yesterday, I heard from a woman in the alley that a shop is hiring a copyist. I’m going to work there for a few days. Just during the day; I’ll be home at night. Stay here, don’t go wandering around like yesterday. It’s too dangerous outside near New Year’s. The streets are full of troublemakers and beggars. You’re not safe alone. If you’re hungry, there’s some boiled taro in the bowl. Eat a little. I’ll make dinner when I get back.”
Bai Haitang asked anxiously, “You’ll come back, right?”
Su Ting smiled. “Of course, I’ll come back. Where else would I go? Without you, I have nowhere to be.”
“Okay…” Bai Haitang nodded. “I’ll listen. I won’t go out.”
On the twenty-eighth day of the lunar month, the entire city was filled with festive cheer. The further east one went, the more affluent the people. Though many shops had closed for the holidays, the streets were still packed with people. In front of Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant, red lanterns and silk banners adorned the entrance as nobles and officials streamed in and out, making reservations for New Year’s feasts. Snow covered the ground, and the corners of the walls and gutters were coated with a layer of thick frost. The tracks left by carriages and footprints crisscrossed the icy ground below the steps.
Su Ting entered and was greeted by a servant, who led him to a room on the second floor. He raised his hand and knocked, “Young Master Jiang…”
A short scream came from inside, followed by the sound of something being muffled. Something heavy hit the ground with a crash, followed by what seemed like the sound of a struggle.
Thinking there was a thug inside, Su Ting quickly tried to open the door, but it was bolted from within. He ran to the window, which was unlocked, but blocked by something, allowing him to only open it slightly. He peered through the small gap and was about to shout when the scene inside made his eyes widen in shock—there, in the room, was a long, bare leg thrashing wildly in the air, while a bony hand gripped tightly, water or sweat dripping from its fingers.
“That hurts…”
The sudden cry of pain startled Su Ting, making his heart skip a beat.
His breath caught, and he instinctively assumed that the man inside was Jiang Bingren. In broad daylight, they were… doing *that*? Su Ting immediately took two steps back, almost bolting down the stairs. But just as he was about to run, he stopped in his tracks.
Inside the room, the rustling sounds continued for quite some time before settling down. Jiang Bingren, rubbing his neck, kicked someone in frustration. “Why are you getting frisky so early in the morning? Biting my neck hurts!”
“If the young master is awake, it’s only right for a servant to serve him,” Shi Xing teased, playing with Jiang Bingren’s fingers before adding, “That little act you put on for Su Ting—it made me jealous.”
“Don’t use that as an excuse just to mess with me,” Jiang Bingren grumbled as he pulled the covers over his small frame, shoving Shi Xing playfully. Shi Xing backed away with a pained groan, prompting Jiang Bingren to roll over and check his arm. He found a large bruise and immediately became worried. “Was this from blocking that stick yesterday? It wasn’t even aimed at me, why’d you take the hit?”
Shi Xing casually draped a garment over Jiang Bingren’s shoulders. “When the young master isn’t around, you’re my master. We bodyguards can’t let our masters face even the slightest danger.”
Jiang Bingren, clearly pleased, began slipping his arms into his sleeves. He called for some ointment for the bruise.
Shi Xing, however, shook his head. “It’s just a small injury, nothing serious. Su Ting is already here, waiting outside.”
Jiang Bingren brushed off the news. “Let him wait.” His annoyance quickly melted away, replaced with a fawning expression, almost like a puppy. If he had a tail, it would be wagging furiously. “Tomorrow’s the twenty-ninth, and Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant will be closing. Come home with me for the New Year?”
Shi Xing smiled. “And do what? If I take away their young master, I’ll probably be chased out.”
Jiang Bingren pouted. “What fun is it to spend the New Year alone? My father just scolds me for being lazy, and my stepmothers and half-brothers are always whispering in his ear. If you don’t celebrate with me, I’ll die of boredom! I’ll hide you in my room. After I eat a few bites at the banquet, I’ll sneak back, and we can stay up together, alright?”
“Alright,” Shi Xing pinched his cheek. “I’ll be your hidden treasure for a night.”
Jiang Bingren finally brightened up. After applying the ointment, he went out to see Su Ting.
However, it was only to see him for a brief moment. In the next instant, Su Ting was tightly bound by several servants and dragged through the streets. He was carried all the way to a large courtyard on the outskirts of the city. The yard was bustling with activity, filled with mills and presses, the scent of roasted seeds and oil hanging in the air. Jiang Bingren waved his hand, signaling for them to put Su Ting down. “You can keep me company here. If you don’t finish your work, don’t bother going home.”
The oil mill normally used donkeys for the heavy labor, but when a donkey fell ill or died, human labor was needed to replace it. After giving his instructions, Jiang Bingren had a table, chairs, and snacks like melon seeds and nuts brought over. He even had a pipa player strumming soft tunes. With a white plum soup simmering on a clay stove, the oil mill had suddenly transformed into a place of leisurely entertainment, completely at odds with the idea of overseeing work.
Meanwhile, Su Ting, sweating profusely, was laboring under the grinding stone. The rope dug deep into his shoulder, leaving a painful groove, and he was on the verge of collapse. But then, glancing over the courtyard wall, he saw a plum blossom standing tall amidst the snow, a solitary beauty. That sight gave him renewed strength. As long as they could cure Bai Haitang’s illness with the best doctors and medicine, he didn’t mind being used like a donkey. He would even willingly *become* one.
“Star anise, cardamom, cinnamon bark, one liang each; galangal, cloves, Sichuan pepper, fennel, bay leaves, half a liang… Hmm, maybe add a little sugar?” In the noodle shop, the aroma of meat filled the air as Yu Jinnian ladled a spoonful of the white braising sauce that had been simmering overnight. He tasted it with the tip of his tongue, then added a portion of yellow wine and broth to the pot, along with a few slices of old ginger. He turned to watch Duan Ming’s knife skills.
Duan Ming’s hands moved with lightning speed, the sight dazzling Yu Jinnian, who clapped in admiration. Just as he marveled at the spectacle, Ji Hong commented with a serious expression, “Duan Ming is the best with a blade among the guards. He’s unmatched when it comes to killing and butchering. He can even skin a whole person perfectly.”
Yu Jinnian’s mouth hung open in shock, and he accidentally dropped his spoon into the pot with a loud “clunk.” Quickly, he grabbed some chopsticks to fish it out.
Duan Ming, slightly embarrassed, protested, “Master, don’t joke like that. When have I ever skinned a person?” Relieved, Yu Jinnian listened as Duan Ming continued, “I’ve only practiced on pig skins. The skin on a pig’s face is the hardest to peel. Once skinned, it’s big enough to lay out like a blanket.”
Yu Jinnian: “…” So why exactly do you all practice skinning?
As they chatted, Duan Ming put down his knife and lifted a fully prepped chicken by the neck. With a flick of his wrist, bones clattered as they fell out from the chicken’s belly. In just a moment, the plump chicken was completely boneless, hanging limp with not a single tear in the skin or meat.
Although Yu Jinnian prided himself on his own bone-removal skills, thanks to his medical expertise, he was still impressed by how fast and precise Duan Ming worked. He ran his hands over the chicken, amazed that not a single bone remained. Once again, he couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. Perhaps this was the difference between a doctor and an assassin?
He carefully placed the boneless chicken on a plate and eagerly ran outside to share this odd yet fascinating skill with Qing Huan. Duan Ming cleaned up the bones on the cutting board, once again sighing, “The young master really is easily amused…”
Ji Hong chuckled softly.
After dramatically recounting Duan Ming’s bone-removal feat, Yu Jinnian finally seasoned the chicken with salt, wine, scallions, and ginger. Meanwhile, he smashed a plate of walnuts, roasting them until fragrant. Once the chicken had marinated, he laid a clean, sturdy cotton cloth on the counter.
He then removed the head, tail, and claws from the boneless chicken, took out the scallions and ginger from its cavity, and laid it flat on the cloth. He sprinkled the roasted walnuts, goji berries, and powdered sand ginger on the chicken, then rolled it up tightly like a braised ham, securing both ends with string. The chicken roll was placed in the pot of white braising sauce to simmer on low heat for half an hour.
He skimmed the white foam from the surface of the broth as it cooked.
With the New Year’s Eve just two days away, the feast would surely include plenty of meat dishes. Yu Jinnian had started preparing these labor-intensive cold dishes early. Given the bitter cold outside, nature itself acted as a refrigerator, ensuring the food would stay fresh. In fact, the slight chill would enhance the flavors, giving them an extra punch.
The sand ginger chicken roll still needed more time to cook. In the meantime, Yu Jinnian pulled out a bag of medicinal herbs, planning to make some Smilax crystal cakes. He intended to bring them to Bai Haitang’s place for New Year’s. After all, it wouldn’t be right to visit empty-handed during the festive season, and besides, Yu Jinnian felt a growing sympathy for Bai Haitang, always wanting to show a little kindness.
This habit of giving things to others was something Yu Jinnian couldn’t break, and Ji Hong didn’t bother trying to stop him. As long as they had enough to eat and drink, Yu Jinnian was free to do as he pleased. Even if anything went wrong, Ji Hong would always be there as his backing. Protecting a well-meaning but naive doctor like Yu Jinnian wouldn’t be a problem for the time being.
Yu Jinnian steeped slices of Smilax in water, simmering them until the herbal essence filled the pot. He divided the liquid into two bowls—one mixed with licorice water and the other used to dissolve water chestnut flour into a smooth white paste. He then combined the two mixtures in a deep dish, stirring slowly with a wooden spoon.
Afterward, he covered the dish with an absorbent cloth and placed it in a steamer to cook.
Smilax has long been recognized as a treatment for yangmei sores, known to reduce abscesses, relieve joint pain, and alleviate muscle spasms. However, the dosage in this dish was far from sufficient for any real effect—it was merely a medicinal snack, better than nothing. As for a proper treatment with high doses of medicinal decoctions, Yu Jinnian would need to confirm that it was indeed yangmei sores before prescribing a more potent remedy.
By the time Yu Jinnian had finished his tasks and was ready to visit Bai Haitang, it was already late in the afternoon.
Realizing that it was getting dark, Yu Jinnian grabbed the basket containing the Smilax crystal cakes and rushed out the door. In his hurry, he forgot to wear a thicker coat, and the cold quickly hit him, making him sneeze. Just then, Ji Hong appeared, holding a cloak.
Without putting up a fight, Yu Jinnian obediently let Ji Hong scold him for a while, huddling as Ji Hong fastened the cloak around him. Finally, he sweetened his tone and said, “Ah, I’m freezing! You came just in time. I really like you.”
Ji Hong’s scolding abruptly stopped, completely disarmed by the flattery.
That day, when Jiang Bingren and Shi Xing had argued on the rooftop, they were right—this young man had a way with words, always knowing how to melt people’s hearts with just the right amount of sweetness, leaving them dazed and at his mercy. Truly, he was like a little enchantress.
Following the address Jiang Bingren had given him, the little “enchantress” found his way to a dilapidated door in a narrow alley behind the opera house. It was close to the New Year, yet there wasn’t even a lantern hanging by the door. The place was pitch dark, like a black hole—easy to miss.
As he pushed the door open, a voice called out in surprise, “Tinglang, is that you?”
Bai Haitang, leaning against the doorframe, looked out. Upon seeing Yu Jinnian, his initial hope turned to disappointment, followed by confusion. “The owner from that day… Why have you come?”
“My name is Yu Jinnian, and this is my elder brother,” Yu Jinnian replied, always preferring to keep explanations simple. He often introduced Ji Hong as his older brother to avoid unnecessary questions or suspicions. “To be honest, it was Su Ting who asked me to come and see you.”
Bai Haitang, at first, might have assumed that Yu Jinnian was simply a kind-hearted noodle shop owner. But at the mention of the name “Yu Jinnian,” he was struck with shock. Who in Xinan County hadn’t heard of the young miracle doctor who could seemingly revive the dead?
It took Bai Haitang a moment to recover before he invited them into his small home.
Yu Jinnian glanced around. On the right was a small side room with scattered firewood and a few wooden basins of varying sizes at the entrance, likely serving as a makeshift kitchen. The main room was no more than a few square feet. While the house looked shabby from the outside, upon closer inspection, there were still some refined items inside. For example, there were matching white porcelain cups with a design of flying swallows on the table and a red koi fish brush washer on the desk. However, these items were worn from daily use and held little monetary value. Nonetheless, they hinted at a time when the household enjoyed a life of relative comfort and security.
“Little miracle doctor,” Bai Haitang said nervously, “Did Su Ting really invite you? But we don’t have any money.”
“Consider it a stroke of good fortune,” Yu Jinnian replied with a smile, placing the Smilax crystal cakes on the table. “These are crystal cakes. It’s the New Year, so they’re meant to bring good luck. I hope you don’t mind.”
Bai Haitang, both flustered and grateful, hurried to his feet, his thin legs shaking as he searched through a cabinet for something to offer. After some clattering and rustling, he finally found some tea leaves. The noise continued as he dug through more items, and Yu Jinnian couldn’t help but ask what he was looking for.
Bai Haitang hesitated before replying, “We haven’t had visitors in a long time, and I don’t have any clean cups. Most of the bowls and utensils are just shared between me and Tinglang. I’m afraid…”
This revelation surprised Yu Jinnian. “You mean to say you’ve been using separate dishes all this time?”
Bai Haitang lowered his head, embarrassed. “Whenever possible, we don’t share anything. We even sleep in separate beds. I know about my illness. If we stayed together, he’d contract it too.”
Yu Jinnian was even more surprised. “You know about your illness?”
Bai Haitang glanced up briefly, his expression filled with shame, as if discussing something unspeakable. However, seeing no malice or judgment in Yu Jinnian’s face gave him the courage to finally speak. Taking a deep breath, he said, “There were nine of us in the opera troupe. Besides me, two of my senior brothers also caught this illness and passed away. Not only did I witness it, but I handled their funerals. How could I not know? Fourth Senior Brother had no one, so it wasn’t much of an issue, but Sixth Senior Brother had just married when… They shared everything, and both died.”
At first, Bai Haitang hadn’t realized it was this particular illness. He had treated it like any other rash, but after a while, it dawned on him that he had the same disease as his senior brothers. From then on, he had been extremely cautious, avoiding touching anything that belonged to Su Ting. When he had to, he would use a clean handkerchief to separate himself from the items.
He lived in fear, dreading that he would end up like his brothers—rotting away in bed, with no one willing to even handle his corpse. The thought of such a fate made him want to give up on life. Despite knowing how foul and diseased he had become, despite the fear that Su Ting would eventually despise him, he couldn’t bear to part from Su Ting.
And so, he had managed to survive this past year and a half, holding on by a thread.
“May I take a look?” Yu Jinnian asked. “I’m here to treat you, after all.”
Bai Haitang flinched slightly. “Can it really be cured? I’ve been treated before, seen many doctors, taken countless medications… They all said it was incurable. And this disease…” He hesitated, shrinking into himself. All the vibrancy and brilliance that once defined him on the opera stage were gone, replaced by shame and fear. “This disease… it’s filthy. I don’t want you to catch anything bad because of me.”
“Bai Haitang,” Yu Jinnian said sincerely, “I won’t claim to have a perfect cure for your illness. But as a doctor, I treat those who suffer from any illness, whether it’s easy or difficult, without prejudice. A disease is simply a disease. The pain is the same, the suffering is the same, and there’s no distinction between clean and dirty.”
Bai Haitang looked up, and in that moment, Yu Jinnian understood why Su Ting was so enamored with him. Those eyes were truly beautiful, like a shimmering lake reflecting sunlight, casting ripples of light across the surface, as if something deep within was stirring, glistening with radiance.
Yu Jinnian softened his tone. “What matters now is whether you’re willing to try treatment. Don’t hide from it. Su Ting has done everything in his power for your sake. He even knelt before me, begging for your cure. If his sincerity isn’t enough to give you the will to live, you’re not only failing him, but yourself as well.”
Bai Haitang’s eyes filled with tears. “Of course, I want to get better. I’ve wanted that every day…”
Yu Jinnian turned to Ji Hong and quietly said, “A-Hong, could you step outside for a moment?”
Since learning it was syphilis, Ji Hong had been concerned for the young doctor. He didn’t want to leave Yu Jinnian alone, but he knew that staying wouldn’t help either. What could he do, tie Yu Jinnian up to prevent him from treating the patient? “Call me if you need anything,” Ji Hong finally said before reluctantly stepping out, standing guard outside like a quiet sentinel.
Bai Haitang stifled his sorrow and finally agreed to let Yu Jinnian examine him. He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly began to undo his clothing. He still felt some shame—it was, after all, an intimate area that should not be casually shown to others. Even Su Ting had only stolen a glance once, and that was before he fell ill. Now, with the rashes and sores all over, Bai Haitang couldn’t bear to look at himself.
“This scar…” Yu Jinnian pointed to a coin-sized mark on the side of Bai Haitang’s leg.
Bai Haitang replied, “I secretly burned myself with a fire poker a long time ago. Someone said burning it would make it go away…” He suddenly remembered and pleaded, “Tinglang doesn’t know about this. Please don’t tell him, little miracle doctor.”
Yu Jinnian agreed but also said, “Don’t burn yourself again. It won’t help. Now, aside from these rashes and sores, what else bothers you?”
Bai Haitang, slightly disappointed, nodded and began to recount his symptoms in brief.
As Yu Jinnian listened and conducted a brief examination, his brow furrowed deeper with concern. Bai Haitang’s tongue was dull, his body emaciated, and there were sores and rashes at both the anterior and posterior orifices, some of which were ulcerated. His genitals showed red spots and oozing, and at night, he often suffered from bone pain and urination issues. His hair was also thinning… It was undeniably yangmei sores (syphilis), and the condition seemed far from optimistic.
There had been no treatment for syphilis in ancient times, as it arrived relatively late in Yu Jinnian’s previous life. The few records that existed only mentioned using Smilax as a remedy. Later, some resorted to using arsenic and mercury in a toxic method known as “fighting poison with poison,” but the survival rate was less than one in ten. Even when it seemed to work initially, the long-term effects of the toxins eventually flared up, worsening the condition.
Another unusual treatment involved inducing a high fever via malaria, then treating the malaria with quinine, based on the fact that the syphilis bacteria could only survive for two hours at 41 degrees Celsius. While this method could be tried in extreme cases, it was midwinter, and finding a malaria-infected person, let alone a mosquito, was no easy feat. And even if they found one, it was uncertain whether quinine or cinchona trees were available in this region.
The complete cure for syphilis came only with large doses of penicillin. Without it, treatment would rely solely on traditional pulse diagnosis, and even then, the outcome was uncertain. The most Yu Jinnian could offer was to “try.”
But even the attempt did not dampen Yu Jinnian’s spirits.
Bai Haitang had taken many herbal medicines, but they had only harmed his spleen and stomach, making it difficult for him to eat. The spleen and stomach were considered the foundation of health, and without proper nourishment, even minor illnesses could prove fatal. The toxic nature of his condition created a vicious cycle where his digestive system couldn’t function, making it harder for him to fight off the disease.
Yu Jinnian requested paper and ink to write a prescription. As he began to write, he noticed that the pen and ink were of exceptional quality, a stark contrast to the other shabby items in the house. He couldn’t help but feel a mix of admiration and pity for Bai Haitang’s stubbornness. Just as he was writing, the door suddenly opened—Su Ting had returned.
The scholar looked pale and exhausted, his legs as heavy as if they were burdened with a thousand catties. He carried a single white plum blossom, clearly worn out by Jiang Bingren’s torment.
Bai Haitang quickly adjusted his clothes, anxiety evident in his expression. He turned to Yu Jinnian and pleaded, “Please, sir, could you not tell Tinglang about my illness?” Before Yu Jinnian could respond, he added, “I know my boundaries. I love Tinglang deeply, and even if it costs me my life, I would never want him to contract this disease. I just… I just…”
He just didn’t want to be abandoned. In this world, how many deep affections could truly withstand the threat of life and death? Bai Haitang, so deeply anxious and self-deprecating, feared that if the terrifying reality of syphilis was laid bare, their bond might not survive.
“Alright, I trust you. Be careful,” Yu Jinnian replied.
Bai Haitang’s face lit up, like a small animal eagerly awaiting its master’s return. He happily went to greet Su Ting. “Tinglang!”
Su Ting handed the plum blossom to Bai Haitang and then turned to see Ji Hong standing by the door. His eyes brightened. “Is the miracle doctor really here? He didn’t deceive me!”
He ran inside just as Yu Jinnian finished writing the prescription. Yu handed the paper to Su Ting and quickly explained, “Take this for the next five days. I’ll come back after that to change the prescription and start detoxifying. You can get the medicine at Shouren Hall. Just charge it to the account, not mine, of course.”
Yu Jinnian glanced at Su Ting, then leaned in to Bai Haitang and whispered, “Even though you say you’ve never had close contact with him and promise not to in the future, you know how dangerous this disease is. If possible, try to gently suggest he see a doctor too, just in case.”
Seeing that Bai Haitang understood, Yu Jinnian finally felt reassured and prepared to leave with Ji Hong.
As they were about to leave the alley behind the opera house, Su Ting rushed after them. “Yu, sir!”
There was no rule against doctors avoiding their patients, so Yu Jinnian stopped to listen.
Su Ting, clutching the prescription, hesitated and asked, “This… is it Six Gentlemen’s Decoction?”
Yu Jinnian’s expression tightened. Su Ting had actually recognized the base formula. Although Yu had made significant adjustments, the core of the prescription was indeed based on Six Gentlemen’s Decoction. How had Su Ting known? Had he consulted medical texts or studied medicine himself? Could it be that the saying “nine out of ten scholars study medicine” was already true at this time?
Seeing Yu Jinnian’s reaction, Su Ting knew he had guessed correctly. He continued, “We’ve seen so many doctors, and most treated Haitang’s illness as various kinds of ulcers and sores. But you, miracle doctor, were the only one to prescribe something to strengthen his spleen and replenish his energy. But Haitang’s illness can’t simply be caused by a weak spleen… you mentioned detoxifying him earlier.”
Su Ting hesitated, then asked, “Could it be that Haitang’s illness is…?”
Yu Jinnian suddenly grew tense, worried for Bai Haitang’s fragile heart. Could Su Ting guess the truth? If he did, how would he react? If he truly feared the disease, what would happen to Bai Haitang?
In that moment, Yu Jinnian’s mind raced through various scenarios, even thinking of ways to cover up the truth.
Su Ting looked at the young doctor for a long time before breaking into a smile. “I’m overstepping my bounds. How could I possibly know the cause? Thank you, sir. I will repay this favor one day.”
The scholar returned to the house, leaving Yu Jinnian standing in the cold, heart pounding with relief. He patted his chest and muttered, “That was close.”
Ji Hong frowned slightly, watching Su Ting leave.
Light snow began to fall again, soft flakes scattering like salt. The lanterns cast a faint red glow on the white ground, and as Yu Jinnian and Ji Hong walked into the wind, their figures slowly blurred. Yu kicked the snow in front of him, the white powder lifting with each step, accompanied by the crisp jingle of his small knife bell as they made their way back to the noodle shop.
Stepping out of the bitter cold and into the warmth of the shop, the rich aroma of food and the comfort of the broth greeted them. Yu Jinnian inhaled deeply and excitedly called out, “I’m starving! Qing Huan, bring the food!”
As soon as he finished speaking, Qing Huan brought out a bowl of rice cake soup, but it wasn’t for them.
Yu Jinnian followed her with his eyes and was suddenly stunned—on this snowy evening, just before the New Year, a group of young men had arrived.
“Slow down, be careful not to catch a cold when the snow melts on your head,” Ji Hong said as he entered, brushing the snow off the boy’s head and shoulders. Though his words sounded like a scolding, his tone was gentle. Noticing that Yu was staring in one direction, Ji Hong followed his gaze and saw a group of people who had just arrived, their leader dressed in bright red. The man exuded an air of elegance but looked out of place in the humble noodle shop.
Yu Jinnian instantly knew—they were here for Ji Hong!
Sure enough, the man in red smiled and said, “Uncle Luan, long time no see. How have you been?”