Hell’s illusions were no more than this.
The clouds hung low and the sun sank. Mud piled up and water stagnated. On the fortieth day of Ji Hong’s journey south, the water-control works around Chunan Prefecture finally neared completion. The breached river embankment was reinforced, and the turbulent river water flowed away. Only the low-lying areas of the city lay thickly covered with foul mud, and the collapsed houses along every alley bore stark witness to how fiercely this hundred-year-old city had been battered by wind and rain.
That day, the sky was faintly soaked with moisture, and a thin mist draped everything. The dampness hung like rain or dew, clinging to people’s hair, stirring the warm breath at their noses into something even more viscous.
A line of carts and horses rumbled along, their wheels sinking deeply into the mud. The ground was both wet and sticky, so several laborers had to pull and push from front and back for them to move forward. Along the way, they saw countless corpses of starving refugees. The bodies of those who had died of disease lay half-clothed and exposed in the desolate fields, feeding the beasts that lived off carrion. Chunan Prefecture, a centuries-old city, now looked desolate before its gates, turned into a living hell where crows wheeled and wild dogs prowled.
When the convoy reached the city gate and stopped, the guards above cast a listless glance down. Seeing a long line of supply wagons stretching for a li, black as a mass of storm clouds pushing toward the city, the guards abruptly came to life. One of them stood up straight, rubbed his eyes carefully to get a clearer look, and noticed that, on the leading banner flapping in the wind, the words “Da Xia” were truly embroidered. From the first carriage, a medical officer in pale-rose official attire alighted—this was Chen Yang.
Upon seeing that he was a court-appointed medical officer, the guard became excited at once. He ran down from the tower, shouting as he went, “They’ve arrived! The medicine and grain have finally arrived! We are saved! Quick, go tell the master that the imperial court has sent someone!”
Chunan Prefecture, long sunk in despair, finally stirred because of this convoy of medical and grain supplies from afar. Before long, the gates opened, yet before Chen Yang and the others could even step forward, a crowd of refugees poured out from inside the city. At once, the guards raised a barrier of wooden spikes and leveled their spears to hold the people back inside.
After they entered, the gates were closed once more.
A muggy, humid summer wind carried a queer stench, mingling the reek of death from those who had perished and the pungent bitterness of medicine. On entering the city, what met their eyes was even more appalling. Chunan Prefecture stood by great rivers, a place of bustling trade, thriving docks, and abundant wealth. Now, this vast city brimmed with death as far as the eye could see—refugees lay near death along the roads, and in the ruins of collapsed homes stood citizens reluctant to leave. Because of the floods, orphans who had lost their parents cried, scraping through the mud for rotten fruits washed in by the water. Raggedly dressed women clutched the cold bodies of their children, gazing blankly while sitting against the walls.
Where was prosperity? Where was wealth? A hellish illusion was no more than this.
The medical officers and soldiers hastily covered their noses and mouths. Some medical clerks who had not wanted to come south in the first place now felt an even stronger urge to withdraw, secretly wondering how to escape unharmed.
Although Chen Yang had anticipated that the southern situation might not be optimistic, seeing it firsthand still astonished him, and he sighed in sorrow, “I didn’t expect it to be this horrific!”
A junior medical clerk, dressed in light blue-green robes and wearing a dark bluish headscarf, emerged from the carriage. Like the other medical officers, he had a white cloth covering his face to block disease, leaving only a pair of bright, clever eyes visible. He looked around for someone he hoped to see, but did not find him and felt slightly disappointed. Hearing Chen Yang’s comment, he chimed in as well, “If this epidemic continues to spread, within a month, the capital will look just like this.”
Chen Yang nodded and asked curiously, “Why don’t we see the local prefectural official?”
As he spoke, three or five men rode over from a distance along the main street. Chen Yang, unfamiliar with the local officials, had heard that the prefect was a portly fellow, so he craned his neck for a look. To his surprise, he did not see a fat man; instead, he saw a refined young man of extraordinary bearing.
Chen Yang remembered that man vividly—once you glimpsed him, you could never forget him.
—He was none other than Lord Ji, who had come south by imperial decree to oversee the water-control projects.
Ji Hong dismounted, exchanging pleasantries with Chen Yang, when suddenly he caught sight of a thin figure flit by. On a closer look, it was gone. All he could see were the medical clerks in light blue uniforms climbing out from among the many carts and horses, all dressed alike in the lower-grade medical officer’s attire.
“Lord Ji, we came under imperial orders, first to escort these provisions and medical supplies, and second to assist in eradicating the epidemic.” Chen Yang looked around but still did not see the expected portly man. Embarrassed, he said, “But why have you come to greet us? By the usual rules, this grain and medicine should be delivered to the prefect himself for signatures and seals before we can hand it over. If something went wrong—”
He paused and looked up at Ji Hong, then froze, momentarily forgetting what he was about to say. Eyes wide, he asked in surprise, “Lord Ji, your face…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ji Hong said, his long brows drawn coldly, still showing that stern composure, then explained Chunan’s current state in a few words. “Prefect Zhou Jinhong of Chunan was cowardly and afraid of contracting the disease. Ten days ago, he gathered most of the official treasury from the yamen, took his family, and fled the city. Three days ago, the soldiers sent after him found the bodies of his wife and her maids along the way. As of now, Zhou Jinhong himself remains at large. No one has been in charge of this city for days. The memorial we sent up for instructions has gotten no reply, so I, Ji, can only serve as temporary administrator.”
“How could this be!” Chen Yang shook his head, lamenting the decline of morality, that even officials could abandon their people. But with the prefect having abdicated his duty and run, handing over the grain and medicine to the imperial envoy was the only option. So he quickly told his subordinates to bring the register and present it to Lord Ji for review, to check the numbers one by one.
A medical clerk took the register and walked over in quick steps, lowering his head and presenting it with both hands. Ji Hong reached out to accept it, his gaze falling upon that clerk. His fingers abruptly halted, hesitating slightly for a moment before hastily taking the register. For no apparent reason, he turned slightly aside and then opened the register to read. “Lord Chen, you have traveled far and must be weary. Please go inside the yamen to rest. We will store the medicine and grain in the yamen’s warehouse; someone will come to help verify the inventory. Duan Ming.”
Duan Ming said, “Your command, Young Master?”
“Take the medical officers with you so they can rest,” Ji Hong said, then glanced back at the clerk who had just handed him the register. But in that brief instant, the person had vanished without a trace again. Duan Ming was about to leave when Ji Hong frowned slightly and added, “Wait a moment—brew a few pots of hot tea. We must not be negligent.”
Duan Ming replied, “Yes.”
After returning to the yamen, Ji Hong needed to speak in detail with Chen Yang about Chunan’s current plight.
Though the water-control works in Chunan had been hastily repaired and the floodwaters had receded, stagnant water remained, and now an epidemic had broken out. All the medical halls and pharmacies in the city had practically become empty storefronts; the few usable medicinal ingredients were far from sufficient for the daily needs of the refugees. Across the eleven subordinate counties, there was no way to allocate any extra medicine. More and more people fell ill, and after the city was sealed, a large number of citizens who had not yet become sick hoarded medicine in panic. For a while, medicinal ingredients were worth their weight in gold, and even buying them at high prices from distant places could not solve the urgent need nearby. Moreover, the prefect had fled, refugees were rioting, and rumors spread all over the city—chaos reigned in every possible way.
Imperial Physician Chen’s arrival truly solved his dire need for medicine and provisions.
Outside the hall where the two spoke, several medical clerks hurried by, carrying boxes of medicine, muttering complaints under their breath. Their faces looked thoroughly impatient. Ji Hong stood suddenly and said to Chen Yang, “Lord Chen, something else as well. A few days ago, refugees rioted in the city; the Crown Prince was somewhat frightened and is currently resting in the rear courtyard. My lord, would you please give him a checkup for peace of mind?”
Hearing that the Crown Prince was indisposed, Chen Yang immediately grew alert and, in a flurry of concern, took his leave.
Ji Hong strode toward the warehouse on the side of the yamen. Ahead, two medical clerks bore some boxes, unaware that anyone was behind them, and muttered to each other:
“Who does he think he is, ordering us around like that?”
The other one also felt displeased but lacked the nerve to blurt it out, so he just mumbled, “He was personally recommended by Grand Preceptor Wen. Have you heard of the Sanyu Pavilion on Cross Street? They call him ‘Little Divine Physician Yu.’ It’s said he was the first to discover this epidemic, and since it broke out, Sanyu Pavilion has saved countless lives. Refugees nearly broke down his door.”
“How could he really be that remarkable? If he was so incredible, why is he just some folk practitioner? We all studied hard for ten years to pass the medical exam and enter the Imperial Medical Bureau. If he truly had ability, how come he never took the exam? Even if Grand Preceptor Wen recommended him, he’s just some quack who sneaked in through connections.” The man let out a cold laugh. “I think he probably never dared to take the exam at all and is just a fraud.”
Ji Hong’s face sank; he snorted coldly and swept past them, leaving the two clerks stunned, mouths still hanging open.
Upon entering the warehouse courtyard, he indeed saw a young medical clerk directing three or five yamen attendants as they sorted the medicines. The medical supplies had been sealed in crates for the long journey from the summer capital down to Chunan, and all had to be unpacked for airing. Some needed to be dried in the shade, some in the sun, and yet others had to be stored in airy places high off the ground. Seeing that manpower was insufficient, the young man spread a sack of Atractylodes evenly in a flat basket, then grabbed a wooden ladder and leaned it against the wall, preparing to hang some bundled herbs from the rafters himself.
“That white tuckahoe is extremely susceptible to damp; how could you put it in that humid corner of the wall!” The young clerk had one foot on the ladder, still keeping an eye on everything around him. Spotting a yamen attendant carrying a basket of white lumps toward the back, he shouted, “Hey, wait! That thing you have is kudzu root, not tuckahoe. Didn’t I stick labels on them? How could you still mix them up? You—”
He suddenly fell silent. The attendants, who were used to his incessant nagging, found it odd to have him go quiet, so they turned to look—only to see that the chatterbox clerk and Lord Ji, who had appeared from nowhere, were staring at each other, wide-eyed.
The old, poorly maintained ladder creaked. The young man at the top wobbled, and Ji Hong instinctively reached out to steady one side of it. He had a lot to say at first, but at that moment, he only furrowed his brow. The veins on the back of his hand stood out in tense relief. He looked up and scolded, “Climbing up and down like this—what if you fell! Come down!”
Yu Jinnian stared at his face for a long time without speaking. After a moment, he returned to his senses and first touched the white cloth covering his face, making sure it was still there. Then he braced himself and said with force, “I’ll climb if I want to climb, I’ll come down if I want to come down. Lord Ji has official duties to manage, with no time to write me a letter, yet you have time to mind whether a worthless small official like me climbs up or climbs down?”
He sounded a bit hoarse, and his figure was no longer as round and healthy as when Ji Hong departed. Ji Hong had been angry that he came unannounced, but seeing him like this, his heart could not help collapsing into a pile of sand. Indeed, he was resentful about Ji Hong breaking his word and failing to write all these days. Ji Hong sighed, gripping the ladder with one hand while raising the other to assist him. In a gentle voice, he said, “All right, don’t make me worry. Come down.”
“…” Yu Jinnian turned his head away, refusing to look at him, stewing in his anger.
The ladder squeaked as if ready to break at any second. Ji Hong moved swiftly and pulled him down by the collar, causing Yu Jinnian to cry out in surprise. He ended up slung upside down over Ji Hong’s shoulder. Ji Hong had not done it on purpose; it was simply the easiest way to handle him.
A crowd of yamen attendants and newly arrived medical clerks stood there dumbfounded, all gaping in astonishment and forgetting whatever tasks they were supposed to do, watching the two of them tussle all the way out of the courtyard.
“You liar! You never keep your word!” Yu Jinnian fumed, pounding Ji Hong’s back with his fist, cursing at him the entire way.
Ji Hong winced in pain and let out a muffled groan, speaking in a low voice, “If you keep struggling, I won’t be able to hold on to you.”
Yu Jinnian pursed his lips beneath the white cloth and finally quieted down.
Ever since leaving the capital, he had only been thinking about hurrying to Chunan Prefecture. While the other medical clerks sighed in weariness, he alone counted down each day until arrival. It was fine when they hadn’t met, as he had been running on sheer willpower. But now, seeing this man standing safely before him, that last bit of resolve melted away, and the grievance in his heart surged up like a rising tide, quickly reddening the corners of his eyes.
He placed his own hand on that back he had yearned for day and night for over a month, feeling under his fingertips the warmth of living flesh.
Ji Hong carried him to his own residence, a small courtyard not far from the yamen. In the courtyard stood a single table and chair on which lay a map of the area around Chunan Prefecture. By the table were three or four cups of leftover tea, indicating that only a short while earlier, he had been discussing official matters with others. He kicked open the door and placed the young man on the only bed. He was about to properly discuss Yu Jinnian’s unannounced journey south when he noticed him staring. The pair of eyes visible outside the cloth did not blink once.
His heart was stirred. He went down on one knee on the bed, removed the white cloth covering the young man’s face, supported the back of his neck, and lowered his head slightly to kiss him.
Those lips were somewhat dry, yet they were soon moistened by the young man’s lips and tongue. Yu Jinnian parted his own lips slightly, hooking that probing tongue and slowly sucking and biting on it. Someone knocked on the courtyard door, but Ji Hong made no reply. He was wholly focused on settling the person in his arms, tangling each tiny taste bud on his tongue with his partner’s, letting the mutual exchange of saliva tell of how they had longed for one another.
That person outside soon withdrew. Yu Jinnian raised a hand and gently stroked the man’s ear, noticing a finger-length thin scar on the left side of his face. A newly formed scab, still bright red, marred the whiteness of his skin like a blemish on fine jade. Worried, he asked, “How did this happen?”
Ji Hong smiled faintly and covered the back of his hand. “It was no big deal. A few days ago, some refugees rioted. The Crown Prince was almost injured, so I just shielded him.”
Yu Jinnian fumed, “Shielded him? If it had been even a little off, it would have stabbed your eye!”
Ji Hong still gazed at him, his expression brimming with infinite tenderness. Even watching him sulk made his heart brim with sweet delight. Yu Jinnian, feeling mortified under that stare, grew stubborn. Though he longed for Ji Hong, he refused to yield first. Ji Hong bent down, pulled him into his arms, kissed his hair, and admitted his fault: “I know I was wrong. I will be more careful next time.”
Yu Jinnian rested his head sideways on Ji Hong’s knee, facing outward but gripping the corner of Ji Hong’s robe in his hand as though afraid he might vanish at any moment. During all those days and nights on the road, he had countless nightmares that Ji Hong had contracted a deadly illness or turned away to travel alone. Each time he awoke to an immense panic and fear.
Ji Hong patted his shoulder soothingly and spoke softly, “You came here like this, so who’s looking after things at home?”
“Su Ting,” Yu Jinnian answered, one by one. Jinyouting was his home now, so of course he made proper arrangements before following the convoy south. “That kid’s medical skills have improved significantly, and he’s grown even more adept at handling business. So I entrusted everything at home to him. Though he is still somewhat inexperienced in medicine, there are many famous physicians in the capital, and he has been taught methods of disease prevention and treatment. With enough pressure, he might very well stand on his own.”
Ji Hong did not expect Su Ting to be quite so capable. His thoughts turned to the other people at Jinyouting. “How about the children?”
“The children…” Yu Jinnian answered slowly, as though his tongue were heavy and he could hardly open his mouth, like it weighed a thousand pounds. “Sui Sui and Ah Chun accompanied Qing Huan to Tucheng. Tucheng lies in the northwest, where it’s dry and so far free of the epidemic… It’s surely safer than staying in the capital…”
“Tucheng really is a fine place, I heard it has an immortal mountain with all sorts of unusual flowers and herbs, fresh fruits, and mystical wonders. When this epidemic is dealt with, perhaps we can go to Tucheng together for a few days of sightseeing. We’ll pass Daizhou along the way and can enjoy its flowery sea of forests—what do you think… Jinnian?” Ji Hong received no reply. He lowered his head in puzzlement and discovered that the young man had closed his eyes without warning, fast asleep against his knee.
Only a few moments had passed while they spoke, yet he was already so soundly asleep. Considering his nature, once he learned of the epidemic in the capital, he as a physician would not have stood idly by. The two clerks earlier had said that “Little Divine Physician Yu” at Sanyu Pavilion had saved countless lives, so he likely had worked day and night with barely a moment of proper rest. Now that the epidemic in the capital remained unresolved, he then traveled nonstop for a thousand li, straight to Chunan Prefecture, the worst-hit area. One could imagine how he had not stopped for a second. If he were not thoroughly exhausted, how could he slip into slumber in the blink of an eye?
Ji Hong let out a soft sigh, feeling unwilling to wake him. He carefully supported him to keep him from rolling off, happily becoming a “human pillow.” Yu Jinnian could finally let his guard down, immersed in this long-missed haven of tenderness and breathing in that familiar scent of clothing. He slept for well over an hour.
It all appeared calm and still, without ripples or waves.
But both of them knew that once this tender dream of reunion ended, they would together face a ravaged city filled with grief and wails, struck by the most severe plague in Da Xia’s history.