Escape or Stay

Liu Mingyi carefully returned to his father’s room. Liu Father had already sat up, his sharp eyes like a hawk, staring directly at him. “Where did you go last night?”

“Miss Wei was attacked by an evil spirit,” Liu Mingyi said, lowering his head to tidy the bedding and briefly explained the situation where Wei Lan was choked by a ghost.

After listening, Liu Father nodded slightly. “So the evil spirit was after her.”

“I’ve heard there’s a traveling Taoist priest in the southern part of the city, someone who can see both the Yin and Yang worlds. I was planning to invite him,” Liu Mingyi said.

Liu Father shook his head and sighed, “Taoists with real skill mostly live in remote mountains. How could they be wandering the streets? These ones running around are just con artists who only know the basics. They’re fine for dealing with minor spirits, but when it comes to evil spirits, they’re not enough.”

Liu Mingyi furrowed his brows. “So, what should we do?”

Liu Father pondered for a moment, then slowly spoke, “I have a method to send that evil spirit to be reincarnated.”

Liu Mingyi’s eyes brightened. “What method is that?”

Liu Father gave a mysterious smile but refused to elaborate. “Heavenly secrets cannot be revealed.”

For Wei Lan’s peace of mind, Liu Mingyi still invited the traveling Taoist to their home. The Taoist set up a formation in the yard, burning yellow talismans that filled the air with smoke and fire, waving a wooden sword fiercely while chanting incantations. He struggled with the ritual for a while before finally completing the “exorcism ceremony.” In truth, it was just to calm people’s nerves.

After the Taoist left, Liu Mingyi placed a folded talisman in Wei Lan’s palm. “This is a calming talisman. Place it under your pillow, and it will surely work.”

Over the following days, Wei Lan called for Honghua, and they slept together on the same bed. At first, Wei Lan slept lightly, half awake and half asleep, too afraid to rest deeply. However, after a few nights, she no longer had nightmares and gradually regained normal sleep.

Meanwhile, Liu Father’s headache also improved a lot, and his spirits lifted. Wei Lan and Mingyi saw this and finally felt relieved enough to return to Changsha to continue their penicillin research work.

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Spring quickly arrived, and the penicillin experiment at Huimin Medical School had been going on for three months. After over a thousand failed green mold trials, none had been successful. Wei Lan’s savings were running low. The laboratory was still using beef to prepare the culture medium, and there were constant murmurs among the students: “It’s a sin to feed good beef to insects.”

Wei Lan flipped through the thick experimental record book, carefully checking the data in the “hospital.” In this Ming Dynasty, doing scientific research was incredibly difficult. There were no microscopes to observe bacterial colonies, no incubators to control the environment, and even sterilization had to rely on homemade alcohol distillation. What modern labs could complete in three months might take three years or more here.

As she was reviewing, Honghua hurried in with half a bag of rice and half a barrel of oil, panting, “The grain shop has limits, only three liters per person. I waited two hours in line to get these. Salt prices have also risen. Now it’s three silver coins per pound, and the vegetable market is empty.”

Wei Lan closed the record book with a deep sigh. “Pickle the mustard greens from the backyard. We’ll need to be frugal from now on.”

Since Luoyang and Xiangyang had both been breached, her experiments had to be paused. In January, Li Zicheng took Luoyang, and they shared the food from the King of Fuwang’s mansion; in February, Zhang Xianzhong captured Xiangyang, burning the body of King Xiangwang. Now, the bandits were only eight hundred miles away from Changsha, and in five days, they could reach the city.

Honghua tightened the lid on the rice barrel, a hint of worry in her voice. “Do you think they’ll come to Changsha?”

Wei Lan walked to the table, unfurled a map, and traced it with her finger. “Changsha is no longer safe. We can only head south to Guangdong Province. Maybe we can find a place to settle down there.”

Honghua hesitated. “But… recently, refugees from the north have been pouring in, and the medical clinic and pharmacies are crowded. How can Mingyi and Shunxing leave?” She held Wei Lan’s hand. “I support you, but if Mingyi doesn’t agree to leave, do we have to scatter?”

Just then, the sound of galloping hooves echoed in the street. Twenty post horses rushed down the stone road, with the blood-red flag behind the riders fluttering loudly.

Wei Lan gripped the window frame tightly, watching the post horses disappear at the end of the street. This was an urgent messenger from the Ji Wang Mansion. Anyone could escape from Changsha, but Ji Wang had to defend his territory.

“Wait for Mingyi to come back, and we’ll discuss it together.”

As dusk settled over the “hospital,” the Eight Immortals table was set with pickled mustard greens and brown rice. Honghua divided the last half bowl of rice soup for everyone, unconsciously rubbing the empty wooden spoon, her expression full of concern.

The dining hall, usually lively, was now eerily quiet. Shunxing poked the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks, then suddenly lowered his voice. “The refugees from Henan say that Li Zicheng breached Luoyang and gave the food from the King of Fuwang’s mansion to the poor.”

“Can we believe this?” Sanqi suddenly raised his head, doubt in his voice. “The refugees from Xiangyang say that when Zhang Xianzhong breached the city, even the coarse cloth from the dyeing workshops was looted.”

Fuling glanced towards the door and lowered his voice. “I heard that Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong have parted ways. The Luoyang refugees say the rebel army only killed the vassal kings and officials, but the refugees from Xiangyang say… they looted everything.” He swallowed hard. “Everything.”

Huangqi sneered and added, “Who cares who’s attacking? No one is more greedy than the vassal kings. Just a few days ago, Ji Wang’s mansion recruited two hundred civilians to transport grain. They said it was ‘for the war,’ but the convoy went south instead!” His voice was filled with indignation as his chopsticks slammed into his bowl, venting his frustration.

Wei Lan paused as she picked up her food. She knew that the common people in the Ming Dynasty had long harbored resentment towards the vassal kings, but seeing the excitement on the medicine boy’s faces as they heard about Ji Wang’s misfortune still made her uneasy. These young people eating brown rice were not only afraid of the war reaching their doorstep, but also secretly hoping for a change in the times.

Wei Lan put down her chopsticks. “No matter who becomes emperor, the common people will suffer in war. We should pack up and prepare to head south.”

“I’ll stay,” Liu Mingyi said calmly, picking up some food.

Wei Lan looked up, urgency in her eyes. “It’s only five days to Hengzhou. The situation there is relatively stable. We can wait it out…”

“Miss Wei,” Liu Mingyi interrupted, using the formal title, “Changsha is my home. I have patients, students, and neighbors here. I can’t just abandon them.”

“So, you want to stay and be a sage?” Wei Lan suddenly pushed her bowl away, standing up, the wooden bench scraping across the floor with an irritating sound. Her voice carried some anger. “We’re not officials! When the flames of war come, what will you use to block them? Herbs?”

The air seemed to freeze. Honghua suddenly tugged on Shunxing’s sleeve, and several of the medicine boys quietly withdrew, tiptoeing out. The courtyard was filled with deliberately muffled footsteps as they eavesdropped by the wall.

“Because we are common people, we can’t run,” Liu Mingyi said softly. “If everyone runs, Changsha will truly become a dead city.”

He took a deep breath and continued, “As Liu Shan, as Liu the doctor, I carry these titles and responsibilities. I must fulfill my duties. At this moment, I cannot leave.”

“Nice words! Swords and knives don’t recognize titles!” Wei Lan’s voice carried a touch of helplessness and anger as she glared at Liu Mingyi, full of confusion.

Liu Mingyi fell silent for a moment, his voice still firm. “You take the others and go. I can’t leave.”

Wei Lan was momentarily stunned, then sneered. “By your reasoning, I should stay too.”

“Don’t act out of spite.” Liu Mingyi frowned.

Wei Lan sat beside him, unconsciously squeezing the sleeve of his blue robe. “Mingyi, just come with me, will you?” She lowered her head, the tip of her shoe gently brushing against his boots. “Guangdong’s climate is damp, perfect for cultivating mold…”

Mingyi’s throat bobbed twice as he turned his face away, unable to look her in the eye. “It’s not that I don’t want to go, I just can’t leave everything behind on my own. If everyone in Changsha could leave, I’d leave too.”

“Then can’t we leave first?” Wei Lan asked.

“Leaves must always return to the roots,” Liu Mingyi softened his voice, lifting his hand as if to touch her trembling shoulder but stopping halfway.

Wei Lan froze, a sudden bitterness filling her chest. She finally understood the gap between them: he was like an angel deeply rooted in this land, while she was just a floating reed, a soul from three hundred years later who was bound to drift away.

She wanted to take everyone with her, but she knew they didn’t have the ability. To hell with the Ming Dynasty, to hell with the Qing Dynasty—she was a part of the People’s Republic of China and couldn’t waste her time here forever!

Wei Lan suddenly realized there was no phone, no internet, and if they separated, she had no idea when they’d reunite. Her voice shook with unspoken emotion: “What if that male ghost comes back to take my life…”

Liu Mingyi comforted her, “He won’t. He’s already been reincarnated.”

Wei Lan bit her lip. “What if… without you by my side, someone discovers my secret? What should I do?” She still had many things unsaid. In this male-dominated era, her strange thoughts and progressive actions were all hidden with Liu Mingyi’s help. She hadn’t realized how deeply she depended on him.

Liu Mingyi’s heart softened, almost breaking. He wanted to keep Wei Lan safe, but in this chaotic world of war, nothing was certain. He lightly smiled, “So if I’m not around, you’ll have to be extra careful with your words. Don’t expose yourself easily, alright?”

Wei Lan smiled back, but as she did, her eyes slowly reddened. The failed penicillin experiments, the approaching war, and the uncertainty of the future overwhelmed her like a wave, making it hard for her to breathe. At that moment, they were so close, and her body seemed to lose its strength, falling towards him, instinctively seeking safety.

Liu Mingyi caught a faint scent from her hair and suddenly remembered the warmth of that night when she curled up in his arms. It felt like an enchantment, and before he knew it, his hands reached out.

But just as their bodies were about to touch, Shunxing suddenly coughed twice.

Both of them snapped back to reality and quickly pulled apart. Liu Mingyi stood up abruptly, turning away, his voice returning to its usual calm. “You take Honghua and the others first. Once the war settles down…”

Wei Lan looked at his back, a feeling of emptiness filling her heart. In the end, she simply said, “Do whatever you want.”