On the mountain.
Liaofan sat beside the stone table, drinking the rice wine his disciple had bought on his first trip down the mountain. He cracked melon seeds in his hand, while Siqi stood nearby, savoring his candy with great enjoyment.
Liaofan thought to himself that this disciple not only had excellent talent, but also a genuinely filial heart. Most of the change left over after buying the rice had been spent on things for him. Though the money wasn't much, the thought behind it was precious. Still, merely going down the mountain to buy things every day wouldn't help Siqi integrate into society very much. He needed more real experience. Thinking back to what he himself had done when he lived down the mountain years ago, an idea formed in Liaofan's mind. He turned to Zhu Siqi and said:
"Disciple, although you completed everything I assigned you today, it didn't help you experience social life very much. You should know that even small children could have done what you did today down the mountain. How about I find you a job down there? That would be far more beneficial training. What do you think?"
"Master, what kind of work could I do?" Zhu Siqi asked, lacking confidence. He didn't realize that he was sitting on a treasure mountain without knowing it.
"There are many things you could do," Liaofan said deliberately to tease him. "Sweeping floors, washing dishes, running errands, being an apprentice—any of those would work."
"Master, I've studied for more than ten years, and all I can do is that?" Zhu Siqi grew anxious.
"Haha!" Seeing his disciple's reaction, Liaofan laughed. "Of course not. Actually, I have something quite suitable for you. In Shantang Market there's a Shantang Pharmacy. The physician there is surnamed Deng. When I practiced medicine in the area years ago, he greatly admired me. If you go there and say you're my disciple, he'll certainly be willing to let you help out."
Seeing Zhu Siqi about to respond, Liaofan immediately continued,不给 him a chance to speak. "There's actually another option—just like I did back then. You could set up a stall in Shantang Market and treat patients yourself. You've read so many medical texts and memorized tens of thousands of prescriptions. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Hearing that he could work independently, Zhu Siqi was naturally willing. Still unsure of his own ability, he asked with some hesitation, "Master, treating patients and prescribing medicine concerns people's lives. Although I've read medical books thoroughly and memorized countless prescriptions, including many rare remedies, I've never taken a pulse before. Aren't you afraid I'll embarrass you?"
Liaofan saw that his disciple wasn't so easily fooled anymore, so he spoke frankly. "You practice internal cultivation every day and understand the human body very well. If you're uncertain while taking a pulse, you can send a thread of true qi into the patient to examine them directly. Once you find the root of the illness, treatment becomes simple. The key to healing is identifying the cause, and you have a natural advantage there. How could you misdiagnose? Besides, you already know all kinds of pulse patterns. After you've taken more pulses and verified them against what the books say, you'll be accurate even without using true qi."
"So I'm actually that capable, and didn't even know it," Zhu Siqi said happily.
"Then you're willing to set up your own stall?" Liaofan asked.
"Yes! Better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of an ox. This will be my first step into society!" Zhu Siqi was brimming with confidence and enthusiasm.
"Good. To give you more motivation, I'll add a bit of pressure," Liaofan said. "Once you start your stall, besides providing for our living needs on the mountain, you'll also hand over one hundred yuan every month."
At last, Liaofan revealed his true intention. After more than ten years of worrying about how to support the two of them, it was finally time to enjoy life—someone was taking over.
With matters at this point, and words already spoken, Zhu Siqi could only accept it.
"I'll go down and set up my stall tomorrow. I don't believe I can't earn a hundred yuan in a month." He immediately began preparing paper, brush, and other items.
"You shouldn't rush this," Liaofan said, tempering his enthusiasm. "From my experience, you don't have any reputation yet. Traditional medicine becomes more respected with age. If you go tomorrow, you might return exactly as you went."
"Then what should I do, Master? Please give me some advice," Zhu Siqi asked for help.
"Very well. This will be the last time I offer you guidance. From now on, you must decide things for yourself." Liaofan wanted to cultivate his disciple's independence. Even so, at critical moments he couldn't help lending a hand—and fortunately, he stopped himself in time. From here on, it would be up to the disciple.
"You should wait until the next market day to set up your stall. There will be many people then, and more patients as well. Shantang Pharmacy will surely be overwhelmed, and some people will come to you. Your first attempt must make an impact. By the following market day, if patients who took your prescriptions have improved, you should be able to set up your stall regularly."
Truly, experience counted—this was an excellent plan.
"Thank you, Master. This should work." With his master's guidance, Zhu Siqi felt reassured. He returned to his room and reviewed his medical books once more.
Four days later, it was market day at Shantang again.
Zhu Siqi arrived early. First, he visited Shantang Pharmacy and paid his respects to Physician Deng. When Deng learned that this young man was the disciple of Liaofan, who had once practiced medicine here, he was very courteous. Hearing that Zhu Siqi also intended to set up a stall, Deng was surprised—not because he doubted him, but because he knew Liaofan's abilities well. What astonished him was Zhu Siqi's age—only a teenager.
After learning his purpose, Deng lent him two chairs and a table from behind the pharmacy.
Thanking Physician Deng, Zhu Siqi carried the table and chairs to a spot not far from the pharmacy and set up the first stall of his life. Why so close to the pharmacy? He had his reasons. Everyone who came to Shantang Pharmacy was there for treatment or medicine; setting up nearby meant his stall would naturally be noticed. Invisibly, he was borrowing the pharmacy's reputation—truly a case of enjoying the shade beneath a great tree.
He then picked up a small wooden board, pasted a sheet of white paper on it, and wrote four characters with a brush: "Treating Illness, Writing Prescriptions." He set it upright on the table. Why not write things like "Hua Tuo Reborn" or "Bian Que Returned," or "Specialist in Difficult Diseases"? He had thought about that. He was too young; no matter how impressive the words, they couldn't compare to effective prescriptions. If people didn't believe him, that was one thing—but if they thought he was a fraud, his stall would close before it even opened.
Time passed slowly. The crowd at the market grew denser. As people passed his stall, they would glance at the sign, then look at his youthful face and walk on. Even when someone seemed tempted to approach, others nearby would pull them away, directing them straight to Shantang Pharmacy.
Seeing this, Zhu Siqi grew anxious. Being young wasn't his fault—did youth mean one couldn't treat patients? Looking at the packed pharmacy nearby, where there wasn't even room to stand, he could only sigh inwardly.
At that moment, a middle-aged woman squeezed out of the pharmacy. She carried several packets of medicine in one hand and held a boy of about ten with the other. She was an ordinary farm woman from nearby villages. Years of exposure to rain when she was young had left her with rheumatism. Whenever the weather turned damp, her knee joints felt as if pierced by countless needles. She had taken medicine from the pharmacy several times with little effect. Seeing a young man with a stall nearby, she came over with the thought that it wouldn't hurt to take a look.
When Zhu Siqi saw someone approaching, he knew she was a potential patient and felt delighted—his stall was finally opening.
The woman asked, "Young man, are you seeing patients yourself, or are you watching the stall for your master?"
"You can rest assured, Auntie. I'm seeing patients myself. I do have some skill—otherwise I wouldn't dare set up a stall," Zhu Siqi replied.
The woman didn't fully believe him, but since she was already there, she decided to give it a try. "How much do you charge for a prescription?"
In the countryside, every penny mattered. People always asked the price before treatment.
A prescription at Shantang Pharmacy cost three yuan. Zhu Siqi had originally planned to charge two, but seeing no customers for so long and facing his first patient, he said, "One yuan."
Hearing the low price, the woman finally sat down and placed her hand on the table without saying anything, testing his skill.
Zhu Siqi placed three fingers on her pulse. Immediately, he sensed cold invading her legs—rheumatism. To be certain, he sent a thread of true qi into her body. It was indeed rheumatism. Though difficult to cure, it would be easy for him with true qi—but that would expose his internal cultivation, which he wished to avoid. Acupuncture would have to do.
Releasing her wrist, he said, "Auntie, this is cold energy that entered your body years ago. You didn't feel it when you were young, but now it's become rheumatism."
Hearing that he was right, the woman quickly asked, "Do you have a good prescription? Can it be cured completely?"
"No need for additional medicine," Zhu Siqi replied. "Just continue with the medicine you already have. I'll treat you with acupuncture. After a few sessions, it should heal."
He had already seen and smelled the medicine she carried and confirmed it was appropriate. Combined with his acupuncture, it would work.
Encouraged by his confidence, the woman asked eagerly, "Can you do the acupuncture now?"
"Yes." Zhu Siqi took out the set of needles his master had once used. He asked her to extend her legs, without rolling up her trousers. Using his sensing ability, he inserted several needles through the small gaps in the fabric into acupuncture points around her knees.
The woman felt a mild numbness as the needles went in, and her confidence grew.
After about ten minutes, Zhu Siqi removed the needles. "Auntie, that's it for today. Come back on the next market day and I'll treat you again. Continue taking your medicine as usual."
"Thank you, young man. If my legs improve, I'll introduce others to you," she said, handing him one yuan before leaving.
"Finally opened for business—my first yuan ever!" Zhu Siqi shouted with joy in his heart.
With the first patient treated, others grew bolder. After all, it was cheap. A man immediately came over and sat down.
This case was simple—a cold. Zhu Siqi quickly prescribed medicine, again earning just one yuan. There was nothing he could do; that was the price now.
As the crowd gradually thinned, he treated a few more patients. Seeing the sky darken, he prepared to close up. He returned the table and chairs to Physician Deng, left his writing tools there for safekeeping, and headed back up the mountain.
This time, he bought nothing. These were the first earnings of his life—he couldn't bear to spend them.