That morning, local farmers arrived to sell medicinal herbs gathered from the mountains. Bai Lan inspected the fresh herbs, still glistening with morning dew, and was pleased.
After paying the farmers and airing out the herbs, he went to the breakfast shop across the street to fetch noodles. A few days ago, his father’s patients had sent a basket of eggs. The shop owner would fry or boil them each day, and Bai Lan could take them with his noodles, saving himself the trouble of cooking.
Carrying two bowls of noodles on a tray, he returned to the clinic. Outside, several men had gathered, pointing at the shops beside the clinic and talking among themselves.
The streets were still quiet in the early morning, so a small crowd like this drew attention.
Bai Lan thought, hopefully they weren’t here to cause trouble. Yet the men did not look like ruffians; they resembled craftsmen at work.
“Father, time for breakfast!” he called to Jiang Zichun.
He set up a tall round stool, placed the noodles on it, grabbed a small low stool for himself, and began eating while keeping an eye on the men outside.
After about the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the men retrieved long measuring rods and began taking measurements of the shops.
Bai Lan then noticed that the five or six shops beside the clinic were all closed that day.
“Big brother, what’s going on here?” he asked.
One of the men, seeing Bai Lan was approachable, replied, “These shopfronts are all going to be demolished and replaced with new construction. We’ve been sent to measure and draw plans today.”
Bai Lan furrowed his brow. “The government ordered the demolition? I haven’t heard of any new construction plans.”
“No, it’s not the government. Likely some wealthy patron bought the land and wants to redevelop it,” the man said.
Bai Lan glanced around. Behind these shops was a large plot of empty land, but none of the shop owners had built kitchens or other structures. Previously, he had asked a neighboring shopkeeper, who said the land belonged to someone else and even if urgent, they couldn’t act.
Now the six front shops were being torn down. It seemed the owner of the back plot bought them to open up the front for a larger entrance.
Bai Lan didn’t know how much compensation the shop owners received. The clinic kept him busy, so he hadn’t had time to chat with the neighbors. He was thankful they hadn’t tried to buy his shop; otherwise, they would have had to vacate, and moving the clinic so soon after opening would have been troublesome. Patients would also have difficulty finding them.
Feeling relieved but curious, he asked, “Big brother, what will they build here afterward?”
The man hesitated. “Perhaps a large restaurant or a brothel… I’m only here to measure, I don’t know the higher-ups’ plans.”
Bai Lan nodded. A restaurant would be fine, but a brothel would be unbearably noisy. He silently hoped it would be a restaurant.
With no patients at the clinic, father and son ate their noodles and watched the activity outside.
Ten or so men were stretching measuring lines, counting, and sketching plans. Jiang Zichun kept remarking, “Such a large plot—it will be a massive project to build here.”
As they discussed, a commotion suddenly erupted inside the clinic.
“You deliberately shorted the herbs! Medicine must be measured accurately. With your carelessness, you could kill someone!”
Sensing trouble, Bai Lan returned to the clinic. “What happened?”
The young medicine boy hurried out from behind the counter. “Doctor Jiang, I weighed the herbs according to the prescription, but this gentleman insists the weight is insufficient.”
Jiang Zichun turned to the man at the counter. “Which herb is underweight? May I see it?”
The man immediately clutched the herb packet behind his back, bulging eyes wide. “What’s this? You think you can hide your mistake? Don’t even dream it!”
“I want a fair judgment. Your clinic is cheating,” the man shouted.
Bai Lan quickly realized the truth—this man was here just to stir trouble. He hadn’t actually bought medicine. If there had been an error, it could have been corrected quietly; the shouting and fuss was purely harassment.
Since the clinic opened, business had indeed been good. Many mothers brought their sons for treatment, and during busy times, a line would even form outside. This reputation for quality pleased ordinary townsfolk, but competitors grew envious.
Barely a month into opening, someone already couldn’t resist causing trouble.
The more such incidents occurred, the more Bai Lan’s resolve strengthened. He said calmly, “In that case, why not take it to the magistrate?”
The man hesitated. “No need to bother the officials. We can settle this ourselves.”
“By what authority?” Bai Lan asked. “Perfect timing—I’ll judge.”
Hearing the commotion, villagers had gathered outside, murmuring amongst themselves. From the crowd, a familiar voice rang out.
“Second young master?”
Bai Lan looked up to see Ning Zhengyu walking confidently toward the clinic, several attendants behind him carrying a plaque draped in red cloth.
The troublemaker, seeing the finely dressed Ning Zhengyu with so many attendants, realized he was no ordinary townsman. He tried to slip away, but Ning’s attendants grabbed him.
Ning Zhengyu waved his hand. “See that he gets a fair judgment. If not, we’ll have to take it to the magistrate.”
“Please, young master, have mercy! I only spoke harshly—I meant no harm to Doctor Jiang…”
Before he could finish, he was dragged off. Seeing the troublemaker removed, the onlookers dispersed.
Bai Lan asked, “Why did you come?”
“I came to deliver this plaque,” Ning Zhengyu replied.
Bai Lan introduced him to his father, who politely greeted Ning.
“Second young master, please have a seat.”
Jiang Zichun invited him to sit and went to fetch tea. Ning Zhengyu, seeing the elder physician rushing around, felt awkward teasing Bai Lan.
“Doctor Jiang, no need to worry about me. I know him well; you should focus on your work.”
Jiang Zichun smiled. “All right, all right.”
He gestured for Bai Lan to stay and entertain the guest. “Second young master, you can talk with Bai Lan. I’ll attend to patients.”
“Very well, Doctor Jiang.”
With Jiang Zichun at the counter, Bai Lan said, “So, you came all this way just to lend me some prestige?”
“I said I wanted to see your little clinic. Life in the mansion is comfortable enough, yet you insisted on opening your clinic. I thought you might have bloomed a flower of sorts, but today… there’s nothing particularly impressive,” Ning Zhengyu said with his usual sharp wit.
Bai Lan thought to himself: this man and Bian Daiyun are a perfect match—both sharp-tongued.
“I’ve been kept at home studying by my mother recently. It wasn’t easy to get out today,” Ning added.
Bai Lan said, “Studying diligently is a good thing.”
Ning Zhengyu snorted, looking like he expected Bai Lan to say that. Then, with a spark of excitement, he asked, “The provincial exam has ended. My brother sent a letter a few days ago—guess what rank he achieved?”
Bai Lan already knew the result, and seeing Ning Zhengyu’s proud expression today confirmed it in his mind.
“You’re quite perceptive,” Bai Lan replied.
Ning Zhengyu’s face lit up for a moment, then he frowned. “But as soon as the news arrived, the Bian family, who have no children at the examination hall, somehow got wind of it. Madam Bian has been running around more than ever lately, but luckily that young master hasn’t come around these past few days, so I managed to sneak out.”
Bai Lan frowned. The Bian family was unbearably unscrupulous—Bian Daiyun was barely clinging to life, yet they still prowled around social circles. Whatever notion of familial concern they once had was long buried beneath ambition and greed.
Noticing Bai Lan’s unusual expression, Ning Zhengyu teased, “What’s this? Are you jealous?”
Bai Lan rolled his eyes and stood up to inspect the plaque covered in red cloth. The calligraphy was Ning Muyu’s familiar handwriting. This plaque had been prepared for quite some time.
“Not putting it up?” Ning Zhengyu asked. “Your brother wrote this himself.”
Bai Lan re-covered it. “I’m fine with my current plaque. Constantly swapping them out is bothersome.”
“Reluctant to use it, and yet you have so much to say.”
Bai Lan’s ears tinged red. “You talk too much.”
Ning Zhengyu stayed at the clinic until nearly noon. Had he not needed to return for lunch, he might have brazenly lingered just to enjoy Bai Lan’s company.
After seeing him off, Bai Lan stood absentmindedly by the consultation desk. News of Ning’s family had reached him, news from the Qi family too—but nothing from Ning Muyu himself. Although he roughly knew the situation, not a single letter had come.
Jiang Zichun noticed his gloom. “What’s wrong?”
Bai Lan came back to himself. “Oh, nothing. A plum vendor passed by outside. I tried one, but it wasn’t ripe.”
“Unripe plums are sour and astringent. In a few days, your father will go to the village and pick some for you. The tree by our house bears sweet ones.”
Bai Lan murmured a faint response.
A few days later, while balancing accounts, a runner arrived. “Doctor Bai, there’s a letter for you.”
“Oh? Thank you.”
Setting down his work, Bai Lan took the letter, wondering who could have sent it. As he was about to open it, the runner’s expectant eyes reminded him to tip him a few coins. Once the runner left, Bai Lan stepped back inside, opening the envelope and muttering at the stinginess of whoever required him to pay for their letter.
Amid the constant clanging and hammering from the nearby construction, Bai Lan’s patience thinned. Opening the letter, he found only a single line:
“Doctor Bai, may all go well. I shall return soon.”