Bai Lan hadn’t woken especially early that morning, but coming from a village, diligence was ingrained in him. Though he wasn’t up as early as some farmers, in such a wealthy estate, he was considered early.
Early in the morning, Sanleng fetched breakfast from the kitchen. After eating, Bai Lan went to the back garden to check on the medicine jars.
“Master, shall I stoke the fire? Are you brewing medicine?”
Bai Lan, embarrassed, didn’t mention that he had overeaten the crispy pork and elbow yesterday, leaving him slightly bloated. Summer brought abundant fish, so the table was always varied, and he couldn’t resist the delicacies he was preparing for Ning Muyan. He rubbed his slightly distended stomach.
“It’s hot, easily causing internal heat. Brew a cooling soup.”
A cooling soup in summer would be perfect, and he would also brew a digestive soup.
While the master and servant were busy around the stove, hurried footsteps suddenly approached. “Little Doctor Jiang! Something’s wrong! Master is bleeding, and it won’t stop!”
Qingmo burst in, alarming Sanleng, who almost dropped the medicine jars.
Bai Lan froze, alarmed. “Where is he bleeding? How could this happen? Did he hurt himself?”
He dashed toward Ning Muyan’s quarters. Being only a few paces away, he arrived quickly.
Ning Muyan sat on a chair, head tilted back, clutching a plain white handkerchief to his prominent nose. His flustered movements had smeared blood across his face, making the handkerchief look like embroidered plum blossoms.
Seeing Bai Lan, he extended a hand. Bai Lan instinctively rolled up Ning Muyan’s sleeve to check his pulse and told Sanleng to fetch some clean water.
The water arrived quickly. Bai Lan dampened a small cloth and applied it to Ning Muyan’s nape, then another on his nose. “Don’t tilt your head back; it could cause blood to flow into your stomach.”
Ning Muyan allowed Bai Lan to work, and after a flurry of movements, the bleeding finally stopped. Qingmo and Sanleng, who had been watching anxiously, finally relaxed.
“It’s just the same as usual; nothing abnormal. How could this symptom occur?”
Bai Lan cleared his throat. “Your temper is a bit high today, Master. It’s not serious.”
“Even so, it shouldn’t be this bad.”
Bai Lan awkwardly explained, “Simply put… your body isn’t accustomed to tonic supplements.”
“What do you mean?”
He rubbed his nose, avoiding Ning Muyan’s gaze, and murmured guiltily, “Yesterday’s noodles had some tonic herbs. Did you finish the whole bowl?”
“….”
Qingmo’s eyes widened. Not only did Young Master finish the noodles, he had even drunk the broth! Yesterday he had remarked on Young Master’s good appetite and wondered whether to ask the physician to prepare another bowl today.
It was already hot, and now his strong constitution couldn’t handle tonics.
Ning Muyan looked at Bai Lan and said softly, “Don’t add those things next time. I probably don’t need them. Just plain noodles will suffice.”
He even said “next time”?
Bai Lan thought he was just being conscientious, worried that a plain bowl of noodles might seem inadequate for Ning Muyan’s status. “Understood.”
“You may all leave now.”
Ning Muyan waved. Bai Lan was about to follow the servants out but was called back. “You stay.”
Thinking he was about to be scolded, Bai Lan obediently turned back and stood in front of Ning Muyan, hands folded, waiting.
“Are you getting used to living in Tianmendong?”
Bai Lan’s brow twitched slightly, then he nodded earnestly. The room was spacious, the bed comfortable, and he had slept soundly until dawn.
“Good. Since everything is settled, in a couple of days you’ll start learning to read.”
“Learn to read? Why would I need that?” Bai Lan asked immediately. “Do you mean I’m to become a companion reader?”
Bringing a physician into the estate, and now asking him to do even more? Couldn’t Young Master be less stingy!
Ning Muyan, patient as ever, said, “How will you understand medical texts if you can’t read? Even Sanleng knows over a hundred characters, and he’s younger than you.”
Bai Lan felt a wave of relief, though he didn’t relish spending time on elementary lessons he already knew—pretending not to know and continuing to study would be exhausting.
He muttered, “The Ning family is a household of scholars; even the servants can read. They’re far better than I am.”
Ning Muyan’s brow moved slightly. “I don’t mean to belittle you. Look at reputable physicians outside—who doesn’t know how to read? Learning may be tedious, but if you want to become a good doctor, it’s essential.”
Bai Lan thought carefully. Ning Muyan was right; this was for his own good. Resisting would only make him act strangely and arouse suspicion.
Very well. He would do as Ning Muyan said, spend a couple of years in the estate school, and sneak off attention when possible. “I’ll follow your arrangement, Young Master.”
Seeing him agree, Ning Muyan showed a hint of satisfaction.
Bai Lan said, “Sanleng mentioned that the estate already has a school. Children from the clan are sent there to learn. For someone like me, it’s perfect to join.”
Ning Muyan shook his head. “You won’t go to the estate school.”
Bai Lan’s brows furrowed. He seemed to understand Ning Muyan’s meaning. He pursed his lips. “I’m not a companion or a native-born child of the estate. I shouldn’t join the Young Master and young ladies in school. I’ll just observe from outside.”
“You will come to my study at the third quarter of the first hour every day. Lessons will officially begin at the second hour, and I will personally teach you.”
“What!?”
For a moment, Bai Lan thought he was hallucinating. First, he was shocked that lessons would begin so early; then, hearing that Ning Muyan would personally teach him almost made him bite his tongue.
The very same Ning Muyan—future top scholar, a calligraphy and painting master whose works were worth a fortune—was going to personally teach a countryside boy to read and write. Could this really be safe?
“You’re a busy Young Master, preparing for exams and managing estate affairs. Spending time on a lowly person like me is impossible!”
Bai Lan hurriedly refused. In the past, he might have been overjoyed, but now, under Ning Muyan’s watchful eye, there would be no moment of respite.
Ning Muyan seemed to have anticipated his response. Calmly, he said, “Before bringing you to the estate, I promised to help you become a good doctor. I intend to keep that promise. Don’t worry. Qingmo will prepare everything; you just need to come on time.”
Bai Lan blinked pitifully, hoping for some way out. “Young Master, perhaps I should go to the estate school after all.”
“The scholars there may be reputable, but I am confident my knowledge is not lacking. Why would you doubt me?”
“I am just a small-town doctor. To be personally taught by a top scholar like you… I would feel so indebted, unable to repay.”
“No need to feel indebted. My decision is final,” Ning Muyan said, looking at the pitiful Bai Lan. “The best way to repay me is simply to study well.”
Bai Lan gritted his teeth. This is revenge! Just because I made noodles yesterday and you had a nosebleed today—did it have to be this extreme? Isn’t this more harmful to yourself than to me?
“Must it be like this?” Bai Lan looked at Ning Muyan pitifully.
“Yes.”
Seeing that Ning Muyan would not rescind his order, Bai Lan felt a downpour in his heart. He held back his complaints. “Thank you for your guidance, Young Master.”
“All right, go back to your room.”
“Ah…”
Returning to his courtyard, Bai Lan flopped onto the bed, unwilling to move.
Sanleng, in the back garden brewing medicine, saw Bai Lan’s listless state and assumed he was still worried about Ning Muyan’s nosebleed. He offered comfort: “Don’t be sad, Master. It wasn’t your fault.”
Of course it wasn’t his fault. After all, Ning Muyan was stronger than the village ox.
Seeing Bai Lan remain silent, Sanleng continued, “Did Young Master scold you?”
Bai Lan moved his eyes slightly. If he said he hadn’t been scolded, it would seem Ning Muyan was favoring him too much. He said, “Yes, he scolded me. He also said I must come to the study at dawn to make up for today’s mistake.”
“Ah?” Sanleng was shocked, then patted Bai Lan’s back with sympathy. “Young Master is always strict, so this means he has high expectations for you. It’ll be easier in time. If you’re afraid of getting up early, I’ll make sure to wake you.”
Bai Lan forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Master.”
Bai Lan took a deep breath, thinking of the long hours of study under Ning Muyan’s supervision. How could one word describe his despair?
Yet Ning Muyan worked efficiently. Two days later, Qingmo announced that everything was ready; Bai Lan could go to the study as scheduled.
Though reluctant, he knew it was inevitable. In preparation, he had already made a bottle of cooling balm from mint and gardenia to keep himself alert during lessons.
At the first quarter of the first hour the next day, Sanleng came to drag him out of bed. Sleepy and unsteady, Bai Lan got up, pressing a cloth soaked in cooling balm over his eyes and face. The sharp scent shot straight to his brain, waking him instantly.
Sanleng chuckled, “Master, your cooling balm really works. I only dropped two drops into the basin and mixed it with water, and the effect was already so good.”
Bai Lan sniffed. “A tiny bottle the size of a thumb took several pounds of herbs to produce. I’ll have to be more frugal in the future.”
“Do whatever you need, Master. The herbs in Tianmendong are all bought with the estate’s funds, so you needn’t worry.”
Bai Lan dunked his hands into the basin. “Really that effective?”
“Of course. As long as it’s not extravagant—though herbs themselves cost money—Young Master won’t complain about reasonable use.”
Bai Lan raised an eyebrow, relieved that he could confidently prepare and experiment with various medicinal formulas.
After breakfast, he rushed to the study. Ning Muyan had asked him to come alone, so Sanleng stayed behind in Tianmendong to tidy up.
At the study door, Qingmo was already waiting. Seeing Bai Lan run up, panting, he took the tray of tea from the servant and handed it to him. “Little Doctor Bai, please come in.”
Bai Lan accepted the tray. “I’m not late, am I?”
“No.”
Bai Lan exhaled in relief. Qingmo opened the door for him, and he carefully stepped inside the study.