Chapter 34: A Thousand Ways to Make Her Speak

Tan Qingjiu lifted her eyes to look at Chen Yue’ru. Chen Yue’ru wore an innocent expression and quickly covered her mouth. “I… I didn’t say anything, did I? I only told them Qingjiu is our Tan family’s second young lady. I didn’t say anything else.”

“Our Qingjiu is exceptionally gifted—is that so strange?”

Listening to the townsfolk’s lively discussions and observing Chen Yue’ru’s sly behavior, Tan Qingjiu didn’t grow angry; instead, she smiled.

“If we’re to speak of this matter, I must recount a strange encounter I had six years ago.”

“Yes, I am Tan Qingjiu, the second young lady of the Tan family—the one who was drowned in the pond six years ago.”

“When I was submerged, I thought I was doomed. But in the haze between life and death, I saw a golden light streaming through the water toward me.”

“Then, a compassionate voice spoke, saying that I was a disciple of the Medicine King Bodhisattva, sent down to the mortal world to hone my skills and heal the suffering. Yet, fate was unkind, and I was wronged by villains, losing my life before completing my trials. As my merits were unfinished, I was not permitted to return to the heavens. Instead, my medical skills were restored to me, so I could continue to accumulate virtue among mortals.”

“When I opened my eyes, I found myself alive. Strangely, my mind was suddenly filled with medical knowledge. For many simple ailments, I merely needed a glance to diagnose the illness, and the methods of treatment would rise unbidden in my mind.”

Tan Qingjiu watched as the crowd was taken in by her fabricated tale, their expressions showing a hint of belief. Her lips curled upward.

Since Chen Yue’ru wanted to make an issue of her medical skills, she would give her a suitable explanation.

Back in the modern world, she had read countless novels and watched endless dramas—how could she possibly lose at making up stories?

Chen Yue’ru’s face darkened. “What nonsense are you spouting? Divine beings from heaven—how can you speak of them so carelessly?”

“But what I say is true!” Tan Qingjiu blinked, maintaining a calm and steady demeanor. “Many things can be faked, but medical skill cannot. Whether it is real or not, a single trial will reveal the truth.”

Tan Qingjiu stepped forward until she stood before the crowd, her gaze settling on a woman among them. “Your brow is pale, indicating a deficiency of both blood and qi. You should regularly boil red dates, adzuki beans, peanuts with their red skins, brown sugar, and goji berries to drink.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Is that true? Will it really help? I do suffer from blood and qi deficiency—after only a few steps, I feel exhausted, often break out in a cold sweat, and frequently feel dizzy. I tried to take medicine for a while, but it was too expensive, so I stopped.”

Tan Qingjiu smiled and turned to the man beside her. “The area between your eyes is flushed, which shows excessive heart fire. You are prone to irritability and insomnia. I suspect your sleep is quite poor at night?”

“Yes, yes, yes—how did you know?” he exclaimed.

Tan Qingjiu did not answer and took two more steps, focusing on a young woman in her twenties. “The right side of your nose bridge is pale and dull; you likely suffer from shortness of breath, fatigue, and tend to be easily startled. You have a timid nature.”

Before the woman could respond, her companion nodded. “Yes, she’s the most timid among us. Is timidity actually an illness?”

“It is,” Tan Qingjiu replied with a gentle laugh. “It can be treated.”

Turning her gaze to the kneeling woman, Tan Qingjiu’s expression softened with compassion. “I am not allowed to examine your husband’s body, so I cannot say how he died. But I believe… you are pregnant.”

The woman stared in shock, instinctively covering her belly. She glanced down at herself, disbelief in her eyes. “You’re saying I’m pregnant? How could that be?”

Yet she recalled her monthly cycle had not come this month. Her husband’s injury had left her anxious, so she hadn’t paid it any mind. Could it really be…

A man stepped forward. “Let me take your pulse.”

Tan Qingjiu recognized the middle-aged man. She had seen him before when she treated the hunter’s leg injury—it was Physician Lin.

Many in the crowd recognized him as well.

“Isn’t that Physician Lin? Why is he here?”

The woman hurriedly extended her hand. Physician Lin placed his fingers on her wrist, pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Indeed, it’s a slippery pulse—she must be pregnant, though it’s early and hard to detect.”

As Physician Lin spoke, the crowd’s murmurs grew louder.

“It’s true! She never even touched that woman—how did she know?”

“And all her other diagnoses seem accurate as well.”

Physician Lin rose, his gaze lingering on Tan Qingjiu, curiosity evident in his eyes. Yet, with so many watching, he chose not to voice his questions.

“As the miracle physician herself said, many things can deceive, but medical skill is hard to fake. Besides what you’ve seen today, I was present when the miracle physician treated the hunter’s leg wound.”

“To be honest, the methods she used were unlike anything I’ve ever heard of or seen.”

Tan Qingjiu lifted her eyelids and glanced at Physician Lin.

His words were ambiguous, and sure enough, after he spoke, the crowd grew more restless.

“But every step she took, every technique, gave me a sense of sudden enlightenment. Watching her, I kept thinking, ah, I’ve read about this in medical books, but no one ever dares to try it. Is it really possible to treat wounds this way?”

“Though I have been honored by everyone with the title ‘Divine Physician,’ and always held my medical prowess in high regard, that day I learned there is always someone greater, and higher mountains beyond the highest.”

Physician Lin laughed. “If the miracle physician truly is a disciple of the Medicine King Bodhisattva, I am utterly convinced.”

“If given the chance, I would love to study with the miracle physician.”

Tan Qingjiu lowered her eyes and gave a soft laugh. “It’s easily arranged.”

After speaking, Physician Lin turned to the kneeling woman. “Just as the miracle physician said, you know best how your husband died. But now that you are with child, I advise you to accumulate merit for your unborn baby.”

As Physician Lin finished, another voice sounded from outside the crowd—cold and sharp as ice.

“If she refuses to speak the truth, leave her to me. I have a hundred ways to make her talk.”

It was Prince Duan, Shen Yingjue.