Chapter 49: A Token of Thoughtfulness (Thanks to Sparrow's Reversal and 8aK for your votes, thank you)

When the herbal decoction in the pot began to bubble, Wang Keyue instructed Dali to lower the heat and let it simmer. The fragrance of the herbs wafted through the air, and among the sleeping refugees, whispers began to stir.

The first batch of herbs was ready. Wang Keyue filled two bowls, one for Old Wen and one for Wen Dali, allowing them to drink first. Then she filled a clay jar for Wen Dali, enough to last his family a couple of days.

Wen Dali’s eyes were red-rimmed, a tall man with tears glistening in his eyes. He gave Wang Keyue a deep, solid bow, then carried the jar back to his tent.

Old Wen, holding a small bowl, carefully fed Little Tiger. The boy was awake now, looking livelier, drinking the bitter herbal medicine with surprising relish. Wang Keyue felt a pang in her heart—how, in such a harsh, famine-stricken year, could a child still smile as he drank the bitter medicine?

With a sigh, Wang Keyue poured the remaining decoction into her prepared leather pouch, then refilled the pot with water for the next batch. This method, boiling batch after batch, was slow, but the refugees had no extra pots. The one before her was the largest; the others—small pots and clay jars—were of no use.

“Master, I’m back.” As she was thinking, Wen Dali returned, trailed by a thin young man. “This is my younger brother, Gangzi. He’s here to lend a hand!”

Without another word, Wen Dali busied himself with the fire, ignoring his somewhat embarrassed brother.

Gangzi glanced around, unsure what he could do. He’d come mostly because his elder brother had returned, saying he’d taken a master, was helping out, and most enticingly, that the master provided food—his brother had been given a flatbread, and Gangzi’s envy was piqued.

“Master! I can work too! I can brew medicine, and I guarantee I’m better at it than my brother!” As soon as Gangzi spoke, Wang Keyue felt a surge of irritation—this man…

She glanced at Wen Dali, who remained composed, tending the fire with serious focus. Only his large hands, gripping the firewood tightly, betrayed his tension, almost as if he would crush the wood to splinters.

“That’s enough! I don’t need so many helpers right now. Besides, I don’t have extra food for you. If you’re willing to work for me for free, I certainly won’t refuse,” Wang Keyue said.

“Uh…well…” Gangzi rubbed his shirt, hesitating, unsure how to respond.

“Gangzi, what are you doing here? Your wife was just looking for you, asking me where you’d gone! You’d best hurry back!” At that moment, a man in his sixties approached, wearing a hemp robe and a long vest.

“Clan… Clan Chief, I haven’t explained things to Master yet…” Gangzi protested, his face full of grievance.

“Explain what? You’re always causing trouble! Get out!” The old man drew the long tobacco pipe from his belt, threatening to hit Gangzi.

Gangzi, soft as ever, retreated several steps. Seeing the clan chief followed by several robust men, he shrank back even further and quietly slipped away.

Wang Keyue watched as the clan chief arrived, holding a large bundle. The three men behind him were not empty-handed: one carried a large iron pot—the kind used in rural hearths, evidently taken out during their escape. Wang Keyue’s eyes narrowed with satisfaction at the sight of its size.

She appraised the other two: one hugged a jar of pickles, and the other had a bundle of firewood slung over his shoulder.

“Eh? Clan Chief Wen, what brings you here so late?” Old Wen, having fed the child, approached with curiosity.

“Jinshan! I just heard you had a wandering doctor here, skilled in medicine, so I thought I’d come see. Won’t you introduce us?” The clan chief, shrewd and experienced, winked at Old Wen.

Old Wen knew exactly what was happening. Though he felt awkward about troubling Doctor Wang, he couldn’t refuse the clan chief’s request—not with so many villagers falling ill lately. He dared not delay.

“Doctor Wang, this is the clan chief of Wen Village.” He turned to the chief, “Clan Chief Wen, this is Doctor Wang, who brewed medicine for my grandson.”

Wang Keyue stroked her white beard, appearing calm and aloof, and nodded with a gentle smile toward the clan chief.

The clan chief hurriedly bent low, smiling so broadly that the wrinkles on his face seemed to fold into themselves.

“Doctor Wang, this old man pays his respects!” He stepped forward, unable to set down his bundle, and along with the three men, bowed deeply to Wang Keyue.

“We ask Doctor Wang to help treat our Wen clan. This… this is our humble offering.” Before Wang Keyue could reply, the clan chief opened the bundle on the ground.

Inside were items that, before disaster struck, would have seemed quite valuable: a cotton blanket, a pair of small silver bracelets for a child, a white jade bowl with a slight flaw, a bamboo brush holder, a used calligraphy brush, several grayish stones—an assortment of trinkets, many and varied.