Chapter 25 Master

“Master, my third brother’s here to pick me up. I’m leaving now~” Xue Qingdai cheerfully said to her newly acknowledged mentor, Shen Shichun.

Shen Shichun was sitting at a wooden table, fiddling with an abacus. She gave a slight nod. “If it snows tomorrow, don’t come. The roads will be slippery, and you might fall.”

Before her warm and gentle voice had even faded, Xue Qingdai was already gone.

Shen Shichun scratched her head helplessly—her little apprentice was far too lively, really not the type to be a traditional Chinese medicine doctor. Oh well. As long as her apprentice was willing to learn, she’d keep teaching.

She wore a plain gray robe, humble and modest, but her fair, rosy face radiated vitality. As her fingers flicked across the abacus, it made a crisp, rhythmic sound. Looking at the increasingly bleak account book in front of her, her expression remained calm—even though she still had three apprentices to feed.

Traditional Chinese medicine followed the master-apprentice system, and it wasn’t easy to be accepted.

Xue Qingdai had a very solid foundation. She had flawlessly recited Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases and The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine to her master, Shen Shichun, successfully earning her place.

While memorizing these classics was child’s play for Qingdai, for most people it would be a struggle to even read fluently—let alone recite the entire book.

Although she’d only been there for two days, her master hadn’t made her do any chores. Instead, she handed her The A-B Classic of Acupuncture and Moxibustion to memorize.

Though a deep and difficult text for most, it was no issue for Qingdai—but she needed to keep a low profile. Memorizing another complex classic so quickly might not suit the role of a humble little apprentice. She decided to slack off for a few days instead.

Her senior brother and sister were out seeing patients, so only she and her master were at the clinic on this snowy day.

The moment she stepped outside, a shiver ran down her spine.

Xie Yan instinctively raised his large hand, but glanced at Xue Yongkang first. Yongkang had specially bought a roasted sweet potato on the way.

He beamed with pride as his little sister happily ran toward him. “Daidai, slow down! Here, warm your hands—it’s freezing outside.”

Xue Qingdai caught the sweet potato, and just then, a military overcoat was draped over her shoulders. The coat still carried its owner’s body warmth.

Xie Yan said, “Put it on. You’re weak—you can’t afford to catch cold.”

She held the sweet potato in her hands, and when she put the coat on, it dragged along the ground because of Xie Yan’s height. Looking up with wide, sincere eyes, she asked, “Aren’t you cold? It’s snowing.”

Xie Yan was wearing a black wool sweater. He stood tall, lean and fit. The sweater clung to his well-built frame without looking bulky—he was born to wear clothes. Even such a plain item looked high-end on him. His face remained solemn and unreadable, making it hard to tell what he was thinking.

He tugged at his collar and looked like he was actually a bit warm. “I’m not cold.”

Xue Yongkang glanced at him, looking more and more satisfied. “Daidai, Third Brother just closed a big business deal today. I’m taking you out for hot pot—with authentic ‘28 sauce.’”

“Xie Yan, you come too,” he added.

Xie Yan finally looked away from Qingdai and calmly replied, “Mm~”

They walked with Xue Qingdai in the middle, not a single snowflake falling on her. Curious, she touched her hair—still dry.

How did they manage to shield her so well from the snow?

They arrived at Donglaishun, a renowned traditional hot pot restaurant. While Yongkang ordered, Xue Qingdai and Xie Yan sat down. On the table were two bottles of Beibingyang soda and a steaming bowl of lamb soup.

Xie Yan sat on the other side of Qingdai. Her gaze accidentally landed on his swollen, red fingers. She pulled a dark little jar from her pocket—it was leftover hand salve she’d made for her second brother.

“Xie Yan, this is a new formula I learned from my master. Try it—it works wonders on frostbite.”

Xie Yan opened his mouth, hesitating. He never used anything on his face or hands—he wasn’t the type to care about appearance.

But when he looked at Qingdai’s fresh, delicate face—so youthful compared to his—he remembered that he was eight years older. He was bound to age faster.

He thought of his father, Xie Songshan, sneaking snow cream onto his face in fear of not matching up to his young wife, Zhang Shuying. A sense of insecurity crept into him.

He carefully accepted the salve. “Daidai, don’t worry. I’ll use it every day.”

Qingdai was amused by his earnest face. Xie Yan, like her mother Yang Xiaomin, trusted her medical skills completely. It was a kind of trust she had never experienced from the thousands of patients she’d treated.

Xue Yongkang returned from ordering, and the staff had already brought over a copper hot pot.

After a hearty, lively meal, everyone felt warm and content.

Yongkang glanced at Xie Yan smearing on the gray salve and thought, “…”

Well, at least he was officially recognized by Qingdai—he even received the legendary “cow-dung-colored salve” once given to their old man.

“Xie Yan, you’re a lucky guy. My little sister’s got real skills,” Yongkang said proudly. No matter how mischievous Qingdai got, he would always hype her up.

Qingdai wiped her mouth and rolled her eyes inwardly. Her brother clearly didn’t trust her skills and thought she was messing around, but still had to praise her in front of Xie Yan. Fine—let him pretend to be sincere.

Xie Yan sniffed the salve on his hand, no longer in pain, and said honestly, “It really is great. Smells good too!”

His hand didn’t hurt anymore.

“???” Xue Yongkang was baffled. He’d smelled the stuff before—it was pitch black and had an overwhelming odor.

Xie Yan was so far gone in his love for Qingdai that he could lie through his teeth with a straight face.

At another table nearby, Hu Lili was eating hot pot with her uncle from the northwest. When she saw Xie Yan’s tall figure walk past, her eyes filled with longing.

“Uncle, look—that’s Xie Yan.”

The middle-aged man she addressed was holding a cigarette between his lips. His heavy-lidded eyes followed her gaze. With a faint movement of his right hand, he brushed the military insignia on his shoulder.

“I got it,” Hu Lili said eagerly, hugging her uncle tightly. “I just knew you treat me the best, Uncle!”

Xie Yan felt like someone was staring at him from behind, but he didn’t pay it much attention.

The snow was gradually coming to a stop.

He was in a bit of a rush, helping Xue Yongkang escort Xue Qingdai back to their new place.

Xie Yan quietly memorized the route—it was only about 800 or 900 meters from his own home. Unintentionally, they now lived even closer to each other.

“Do you guys have a coal briquette stove in your room?” Xie Yan asked. He knew Xue Yongkang was fairly attentive, but he still worried whether the house was warm enough.

“We do,” said Xue Yongkang. “But the coal briquettes are kept outside. In a few days, if they get soaked from the melted snow, they might not light anymore.”

He had been busy the past few days and was genuinely concerned that they wouldn’t have enough coal and the room would get too cold for his little sister. The landlord was kind and had given them two big red cotton quilts, but coal was in short supply everywhere, and they hadn’t managed to buy more yet.

Xie Yan said, “I’ll bring some over from my place the day after tomorrow—we don’t use all of it anyway.”

“Great. I’ll walk you out,” Xue Yongkang replied.

He only walked a few steps before letting Xie Yan head home on his own.

Back in the room, Xue Qingdai was curled up under her quilt, not even wanting to stick a single finger out. The world inside the blanket and the one outside were completely different.

When Xue Yongkang returned, he turned off the incandescent bulb in his sister’s room so she wouldn’t be tempted to get up and catch a chill.

Xue Qingdai squinted her eyes into a slit, half-asleep.

In her sleepy haze, she remembered the feeling she had during dinner with Xie Yan—it felt like he had something to say.

She’d ask him in a few days. Maybe there’d been some progress on the engagement withdrawal!

Just thinking about it made her happy. Once the engagement was off, she could go home and lie flat~

The next morning, when Xue Qingdai got up, the coal stove already had boiling water on it.

Next to it was a warm enamel cup of douzhi (fermented mung bean drink) and a boiled egg soaking in hot water. Gentle white steam rose from everything.

Her hair was a bit messy, and in a sleepy daze, she saw a shadowy figure outside the door.

But didn’t Third Brother leave early for work?

“Who’s there?” she asked, her voice timid.