Chapter Twelve: Ji Min Apothecary

Student days are among the most beautiful times in a person’s life, not merely because they carry the vibrancy of youth, but also because the relationships formed during this period are purer—less worldly, less scheming.

With the memories of two lifetimes intertwined, Zhao Rui cherished these rare school days all the more.

After school that afternoon, Zhao Rui left and rode his bicycle swiftly to the Jimin Pharmacy.

Li Cunxin sat upright and serious at the Eight Immortals table inside the pharmacy, taking the pulse of a visiting client.

The client was a young woman dressed in an exquisite qipao. Her delicate features were framed by her long hair elegantly swept up, adorned with a jade-green hairpin. From the hairpin dangled strings of translucent jade beads, reminiscent of a noblewoman from an ancient imperial court.

Her graceful figure was bathed in the fading evening light, the deep navy qipao shimmering with subtle radiance. The richly embroidered silk over her chest was full and lush, like spring scenery painted in ink and wash, winding sinuously around her waist.

Where the qipao slit opened, like a sandalwood folding fan suddenly unfurled, a glimpse of her shapely legs appeared, smooth and fair as unglazed porcelain.

She exuded the refined charm characteristic of a mature beauty.

Beside them stood the senior apprentices, Third and Fifth Brothers, both studying medicine under the master. As for their skill levels, Zhao Rui was uncertain—not even fully confident of his master’s abilities, let alone those of his senior brothers. He often suspected his master might be a charlatan.

“Ms. Zhao, your health is sound. After taking the two prescriptions I’ve prepared, rest assured and recuperate for a few days,” Li Cunxin said steadily, withdrawing his fingers from the lady’s fair wrist and stroking his long beard thoughtfully.

“That’s a relief. These past few days, my mind has been restless and I’ve felt increasingly unwell. It must be the stress from my daughter’s upcoming college entrance exams,” the woman smiled, her bright eyes and radiant teeth like blossoms at early spring, lifting the spirits of those around her.

“Children have their own fortunes, Ms. Zhao. Just relax,” the doctor nodded.

“Thank you, Doctor Li.”

The lady rose gracefully, her jade-like curves unfolding elegantly. Her poised figure seemed even more slender and taut than before.

“Six hundred yuan, please,” Li Cunxin said without raising his eyebrows.

The woman did not find the fee inappropriate; instead, she bowed respectfully and took her leave.

Zhao Rui recognized this woman as one of his master’s longstanding clients, who frequently came for pulse diagnosis and treatment.

He was once just a brat who failed to appreciate such feminine beauty, but now, with memories from a previous life, he realized this woman was truly exceptional.

No wonder the master treated her with utmost seriousness.

After a brief greeting with his master and senior brothers, Zhao Rui headed straight to the martial hall to find Third Brother.

He had called ahead and Third Brother had been waiting since early morning.

“I’ve noticed your understanding of the ‘Cloud Hand Star Pluck’ technique has deepened recently. You must be close to breaking through the Minor Cycle, right?” Third Brother remarked as soon as they met.

“Your insight is sharp, Brother. Yes, I’m almost there. Thanks so much for your tireless help!” Zhao Rui replied.

“No need to thank me, we’re brothers!” Third Brother smiled, and they changed into their martial uniforms and began sparring.

The way of martial arts is vast and profound.

Training can be divided into static and dynamic cultivation.

Static cultivation involves solitary practice to unblock internal energy and refine techniques. Over time, body and intent move in harmony, and the forms become natural.

Dynamic cultivation is the opposite, focusing on practical combat to enhance physical reflexes and integrate martial principles into muscle memory. This approach progresses from external to internal mastery, ultimately uniting both.

The distinction between static and dynamic isn’t rigid; most martial artists combine both.

Therefore, Zhao Rui’s request to spar with his brother to gain practical experience was not unusual but rather a sign of diligence.

Among the brothers, Third Brother had the closest relationship with Zhao Rui, which was why he sought him out.

“Junior Brother, the second level of ‘Cloud Hand Star Pluck’ hinges on realization. Watch how I scatter the stars across the sky—what do you think?”

“Then I won’t hold back. ‘Crane’s Cry Amidst Clouds!’”

Their martial arts came from the same master, so they were intimately familiar with each other’s moves. Every strike was met with a counter, their motions swift and precise.

“Whoa, Third Brother, Junior Brother, you two are really fired up!”

At that moment, a man and a woman entered the martial hall. Seeing Zhao Rui and Third Brother sparring, they called out loudly.

“The more the merrier—come join us!”

Third Brother laughed heartily, performing a cloud-like step and launching himself into the fray, enveloping the newcomers with an offensive.

Zhao Rui was speechless. Third Brother was fighting well but clearly wanted more excitement.

“Wait until I reach level eight, then see how I’ll trounce you!”

The newcomers were Second Brother and Fourth Sister, both far stronger than Zhao Rui. Once they began, Zhao Rui had no chance to intervene and could only watch from the sidelines, waiting for the bout to end.

Their fists and feet clashed with fierce force, the energy surging and colliding so violently the entire hall trembled with roaring echoes.

“Great! Junior Brother, don’t just stand there, come on!”

Second Brother and the others laughed, leaping up and pulling the reluctant Zhao Rui into the fight.

Zhao Rui’s scalp tingled with nerves, but resigned, he focused all his energy to respond.

After about ten grueling minutes, he had taken several strikes from his brothers and sisters. Had they not held back, he would already have suffered internal injuries and coughed blood.

Though battered, he was not without gain. After the quarter-hour of sparring, his system panel finally showed a new development.

“‘Cloud Hand Star Pluck’ progress: 100%!”

Zhao Rui executed a sweeping move that forced the three back, then leapt out of the combat circle, gasping, “No more, no more!”

The three withdrew their techniques, smiling.

“Junior Brother, you’ve got to keep working hard. We’re counting on you to bring honor to the master.”

Hearing this, Zhao Rui quickly waved his hands.

“No, no, I can’t shoulder that responsibility! Please don’t put me on the spot!”

“Who else but you? You’re the master’s youngest disciple.”

Fourth Sister smiled slyly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“When you get into university and train for a few years, you might just be able to beat us!”

Second Brother chimed in.

Hearing this, a bitter expression crossed Zhao Rui’s handsome face, as if he had swallowed something deeply unpleasant.

His master had a longstanding rivalry with another, a feud that had lasted most of their lives. Eventually, they stopped fighting directly and instead made their disciples do battle every three years.

Winning disciples earned an electric scooter, but more importantly, the competition concerned the school’s honor and the master’s pride.

Unfortunately, in recent years, Jimin Pharmacy’s disciples had lost two consecutive matches.

No surprise—it was a matter of skill.

None of Li Cunxin’s disciples, at any level, could match their rivals.

Li Cunxin often flew into anger over this, but martial arts was no child’s play; it couldn’t be mastered by wishful thinking.

As a newly inducted disciple, Zhao Rui had initially received much hope and effort from Li Cunxin.

But after two defeats, the master had lowered his expectations for Zhao Rui.

Lacking talent and working no harder than the others, how could he win?