Chapter Seventy-Five: Tranquil Years

I turned to look at my master and asked, “Master, did you get the antidote for the Gu poison?”
He fished a small black medicine bottle from his pocket and shook it. I nodded, and together we entered the Zhang family’s courtyard.

The moment we stepped inside, I saw Old Zhang sitting under the eaves by the door, smoking. Upon seeing us arrive under umbrellas, he promptly flicked away his cigarette, hurried over, and said, “Doctor, you’ve finally come! My two children have improved a bit since last night, but their condition is still worrying. Please, hurry inside and take a look.”

My master nodded. Old Zhang quickly ushered us in. I stood behind my master and glanced over; the two children were still lying motionless on the bed. Their faces were rosy, but their breathing was labored. My master rushed to them and said to Old Zhang, “Quick, fetch a basin and some towels. Did you give the children the chicken soup I asked you to prepare yesterday?”

The children’s mother, standing nearby, nodded vigorously. My master said “Good,” and Old Zhang hurried out, returning with two basins and two towels. My master took them and gestured for the couple to step back. He then called me over and had me hold one of the children.

Taking out the small black medicine bottle, he poured a dose into each child’s mouth. He laid the towels in the basins. Old Zhang, looking worried, asked, “Doctor, what’s in that black bottle?”

My master glanced at him and said, “It’s the cure for your children.”

True enough, just as he finished speaking, the two children suddenly convulsed. He quickly said to me, “Hold the basins!”

I hastily picked up the basin, and in no time, the children began to vomit violently, expelling black water and some unidentifiable bits and pieces. I grimaced and stepped back, as did Old Zhang and his wife, even my master frowned, for the black liquid emitted a foul, nauseating stench.

After a while, their breathing grew steady, and their complexions became obviously healthier. My master and I set the basins aside, laid the children back on the bed, and the relieved couple rushed over. My master stood behind them and said, “They’re fine now. By dawn tomorrow, when the roosters crow, they’ll wake up. One more thing—burn those basins and towels, don’t keep them.”

Old Zhang looked at his children, his face, tense for days, finally easing into a smile. He and his wife turned, dropped to their knees with a thud. My master hurried over to help them up, but they refused to rise. He said, “Please, don’t do this.”

“Oh, benefactor, you truly are the great benefactor of our family! No matter how many doctors we saw, our children never got better. You saved both our kids in one visit—thank you, benefactor, thank you!” Tears streamed down Old Zhang’s face as he tried to kowtow in gratitude, his wife doing the same, grabbing his hand and trying to bow as well.

My master grabbed them both, pulling them up with force. Frowning, he said, “Please, don’t do this. I understand how you feel as parents. I only did what little I could. There’s no need to kneel or bow—everything is for the sake of the children.”

Old Zhang nodded, wiping his tears, voice choked, “Benefactor, if not for you, I truly don’t know what we would have done.”

My master continued to console him, and after giving a few more instructions, he took me back to the guesthouse. Unfortunately, the weather did not improve. We stayed several more days in the ancient city, hoping for better weather, but aside from that one morning of sunshine, I never saw the sun again in Phoenix Ancient Town.

With no other choice, we braved the rain, toured some other scenic spots, and finally returned to our guesthouse in Phoenix Ancient Town to pack up. Before we left, Old Zhang and his wife brought their children to see us off. Amusingly, Old Zhang even showed up with a bright red silk banner from who-knows-where, making me feel both awkward and amused.

My master accepted the banner with a big smile. I glanced at the words—“Healing Hands Restore Life”—it seemed Old Zhang truly regarded us as some famous doctors from the city.

“Xiaowen, Xiaofeng, quickly thank our great benefactors!”

Their mother called the two children. Now recovered, they looked lively and sweet, just as I had seen them in the woods, nothing like the pale, sickly children from days before. They smiled and said, “Thank you, uncle and auntie.”

When they called me “auntie,” I turned to look at Chu Mengxi. She, a bit embarrassed, echoed the children, then pulled two pieces of candy from her pocket, smiling, “Xiaowen, Xiaofeng, here are two candies for you, but don’t eat too many or you’ll get cavities.”

After handing them the candies with a playful pinch on their noses, the children laughed and accepted them. My master came over as well, patting their heads, “Xiaowen, Xiaofeng, be good and listen to your parents. Don’t run off on your own. If you want to go out and play, tell them first, understand?”

“Yes! Uncle, I’ll be good and listen to my parents,” Xiaowen replied sweetly, and Xiaofeng nodded, smiling at my master. What made these two so endearing was their thoughtfulness—not mischievous, just playful, as all children are.

My master ruffled their hair again, then looked at me as if to say, “Aren’t you going to say something?” I shook my head, so he turned to Old Zhang and his wife, “Your children are bright and sensible. I’m sure they’ll do well in the future. Remember what I told you. It’s getting late, and we have a long journey. We won’t stay. Until fate brings us together again!”

The couple nodded, “Thank you, benefactor. Let us see you off.”

But my master waved his hand, “No need, our car’s just behind. Stay here, the children must be hungry.”

He smiled, and so did the couple. The wife said, “Travel safely, benefactor.”

My master nodded and led us toward the open parking lot. The Zhang family stood with their children, waving and calling after us, “Benefactor, come visit the ancient city again when you have time. We’ll always be here!”

Without turning, my master replied, “Of course,” waving as we carried our bags to the car. I packed the luggage into the trunk and collapsed into the seat with a long sigh. My master got in, fastened his seatbelt, and asked, “What are you sighing about?”

I looked at him and said, “Nothing. Even though it’s rained these past few days, I’ve felt pretty happy. You too, Mengxi?”

I passed the question to Chu Mengxi. She nodded, “Yes, even though we didn’t see much scenery, the landlord was right—the rain here is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Everyone in the car laughed. My master started the engine, connected his phone to Bluetooth, and soon, the speakers played “Unforgettable Tonight.”

When the intro began, Mengxi and I exchanged a helpless look—not that the song wasn’t good, just that my master’s taste was so old-fashioned! Still, the song fit the mood perfectly. Even as we were leaving, it didn’t dampen my spirits; instead, I hummed along.

My master and Mengxi soon joined in, humming as well. I laughed, “Master, you’re off-key!”

Mengxi was amused too, covering her mouth in the back seat. My master ignored me, glanced over, and sang even louder.

And so, we drove back to Chongqing, singing all the way down the highway. None of us slept for those hours; we chatted and the car was filled with laughter. I realized that although our trip hadn’t been the typical sightseeing getaway, saving a family brought a happiness that made life feel worthwhile.

But would everything truly remain as perfect as I imagined? After what happened next, I even questioned why I couldn’t just be an ordinary person—but that’s a story for later.

I sat in the passenger seat, checking the time—it was nearly evening, and the sky had darkened. But Chongqing’s sky was full of stars, and the moon hung high above.

We soon left the highway, easily dropped Mengxi home, and then my master drove us back. Having been away for days, I immediately sensed a familiar yet odd scent upon entering the house.

My master settled onto the sofa, stretched, and said, “Tomorrow—”

“Master, I know. School, right? I’ll go,” I interrupted with a wave. He paused, gave a small smile, “Well, look at you, so eager for once. Not bad. I’m going to shower—the long drive wore me out.”

I nodded. He went upstairs, leaving me alone in the living room. Bored, I went to the backyard, summoned the Heavenly Chant Blade, and inspected it for a long time but found nothing new. Resigned, I put it away, showered, and had dinner.

Afterward, surprisingly, my master and I sat together on the sofa watching TV, neither of us speaking, just focused on the screen. The next day, I biked to school. Mengxi was there too, and during breaks, we reminisced about our trip to the ancient city—it was fun to recall.

Isn’t that how people are? After some time, or years, we look back on those beautiful moments. Though time flies, we remember everything clearly. Not only do we talk about it; even thinking of it brings a smile. There’s no need to answer—just let those warm, youthful days flow in our hearts, drift quietly through the years, and feel content simply by remembering.