Chapter Fifty-Eight: Bone Alignment

Night had fallen, and the lanterns throughout the Qin residence glowed warmly. Yang Yaozong and Zuo Qiutang, accompanied by Qin Zheng, made their way toward the front garden.

“Father, Uncle Zuo!” Qin Xueyao called out upon seeing them, then led Mu Qinghan toward the three men.

Yang Yaozong and Zuo Qiutang smiled as the spirited Qin Xueyao approached, while Qin Zheng could only shake his head helplessly.

As Yang Yaozong’s gaze fell upon Mu Qinghan, he noticed she was looking back at him. Just as he was about to nod in greeting, his eyes widened and he hurriedly shouted, “Careful!” With that, he rushed forward.

Mu Qinghan, having taken a step just as Yang Yaozong cried out, missed seeing that a paving stone had been removed, leaving a small pit in the ground. Her foot slipped into the hole, and she tumbled to the ground.

“Sister Mu!” Qin Xueyao spun around and dashed back to help her.

Yang Yaozong was there in an instant, helping Mu Qinghan up with a furrowed brow. “Are you hurt?”

Mu Qinghan winced in pain. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

Seeing how much pain Mu Qinghan was in, Qin Xueyao’s voice trembled with guilt. “That brick broke two days ago, and I found it unsightly, so I dug it out and threw it away. I meant to tell the steward, but I forgot! It’s all my fault—if only I’d walked with Sister Mu just now.”

Mu Qinghan tried to comfort her. “It’s not your fault. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

At this moment, Qin Zheng and Zuo Qiutang also hurried to Mu Qinghan’s side.

Qin Zheng asked anxiously, “Is it serious, Mu girl?”

Mu Qinghan forced a smile. “Uncle Qin, don’t worry. It’s probably just a sprain.”

Knowing Mu Qinghan’s medical skills, Qin Zheng felt reassured. “Xueyao, help your Sister Mu to your room. I’ll send for a physician at once.”

Yang Yaozong watched as Mu Qinghan, supported by Qin Xueyao, dared not put weight on her injured foot and was clearly in pain. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and swept her into his arms. This startled not only Mu Qinghan, who blushed scarlet, but also the three others present.

Yang Yaozong looked at Qin Xueyao with composure. “Well, lead the way. Which way to your room?”

“Oh… my room… this way. Follow me,” Qin Xueyao stammered shyly, then hurried ahead, with Yang Yaozong carrying Mu Qinghan in long strides behind her.

Flustered and embarrassed in Yang Yaozong’s arms, Mu Qinghan pleaded, “Put me down, please!”

Yang Yaozong gave a half-irritated, half-amused laugh. “Miss Mu, you’re a physician yourself, yet you’re so bothered by propriety. Besides, you’re injured—don’t you know a sprain needs prompt treatment to avoid lasting harm?”

Qin Zheng and Zuo Qiutang watched the three young people disappear toward the inner courtyard, exchanging a smile and a shake of the head.

Inside Qin Xueyao’s boudoir, Yang Yaozong gently set Mu Qinghan on the bed, his expression serious. “I know a bit about setting bones. Let me take a look. You wouldn’t expect to treat yourself, would you?”

Before Mu Qinghan could reply, Qin Xueyao, face flushed with anxiety, urged, “Well, hurry up and help her!” Yang Yaozong was not only in her room, but at her bedside—she felt shy, but her concern for Mu Qinghan outweighed her embarrassment.

Recalling how Qin Xueyao had refused his help when she’d twisted her ankle, Yang Yaozong looked at her with a grin. “Go fetch a few towels soaked in cold water.”

Seeing his expression, Qin Xueyao remembered her own injury and, blushing furiously, stammered, “I’ll—I’ll go right now,” and ran out.

Yang Yaozong knelt, placing Mu Qinghan’s leg across his knee as he reached for her shoe.

“What are you doing?” Mu Qinghan asked anxiously.

“Examining your foot,” Yang Yaozong replied without looking up, sounding perfectly justified.

Though Mu Qinghan had never cared about such things when treating others, now that she was the patient, she suddenly minded everything. By the time she protested, Yang Yaozong had already removed her shoe and was pulling off her sock, revealing her delicate, fair foot. Enduring the pain, she tried to pull away. “That’s not necessary—I can do it myself! I can treat myself!”

But Yang Yaozong held her calf firmly, his tone stern. “Don’t move! You’re not a child anymore, so stop being difficult!” Noticing her blushing and teary eyes, he teased, “With feet that stinky, you think I want to do this?” In truth, Mu Qinghan’s feet bore only a faint medicinal fragrance.

“Your feet are the stinky ones!” she shot back, mortified.

By now, Yang Yaozong had removed her sock, exposing a dainty, pink foot. He recalled hearing in his previous life that a woman’s beauty and allure could be seen not just in her face and figure, but in her hands and feet. Save for the swollen, reddened ankle, Mu Qinghan’s foot was exquisitely shaped, her toes round and lovely—neither too long nor too short.

Qin Xueyao returned carrying the cold towels and, seeing Yang Yaozong holding Mu Qinghan’s bare foot, blushed as she handed them over. “Here are the towels.”

Yang Yaozong steadied his slightly racing heart and gently pressed the injured area, then nodded. “It’s a slight dislocation. I’ll set it back for you. It’ll hurt, so brace yourself. I’ll count to three.”

Too embarrassed to look at either of them, Mu Qinghan simply lowered her head, hands gripping her calf, and nodded.

Qin Xueyao, equally nervous, watched Yang Yaozong’s actions intently, clutching the towel tight.

The air in the room was taut with anticipation. Yang Yaozong said, “One… three!”

A sharp crack sounded as the bone snapped back into place.

“Ah!” Mu Qinghan cried out from the sudden pain.

“Ah!” Qin Xueyao cried out as well, then scolded, “Didn’t you say you’d count to three?”

Yang Yaozong chuckled. “I did. I counted to three, didn’t I?” Then to Mu Qinghan, “Try moving it.”

Mu Qinghan nodded, carefully flexed her foot, pressed her ankle, and, still blushing, said, “It’s much better. You’ve fixed it. Thank you.”

In truth, she’d been waiting anxiously for the count to three, only for Yang Yaozong to skip straight from one to three. Though it hurt, it was not as bad as she’d feared.

Yang Yaozong nodded. “Give me the towel.”

Qin Xueyao quickly handed it over. Yang Yaozong wrapped Mu Qinghan’s ankle in the cold towel, propped her leg up on the bed, and said, “You’re a physician yourself, so don’t strain it these next few days. Prepare some herbal poultices for yourself. Well, I’ll take my leave.”

Mu Qinghan, still blushing, hurriedly said, “Yang Yaozong, could you please take me back to the clinic?”

Qin Xueyao protested at once, “Sister Mu, stay here for a few days. It was my fault you got hurt.”

Mu Qinghan shook her head with a smile. “I already said it was my own carelessness. At the clinic, it’ll be easier for me to prepare medicine and care for myself, and my foot will heal faster.”

Qin Xueyao pouted, clearly reluctant to see her go.

Yang Yaozong frowned. “Very well.” With that, he picked up Mu Qinghan’s sock and rolled it up.

Qin Xueyao stared, cheeks burning.

Mu Qinghan, flustered, stammered, “What are you doing?”

Yang Yaozong tucked the rolled sock into her embroidered shoe. “What do you think? You can’t wear it now, can you?” Then, holding her shoe, he moved to pick her up again.

Qin Xueyao watched, finding the logic in his actions, yet they still made her blush and her heart race.

Mu Qinghan insisted, “That’s not necessary. I can walk!”

Yang Yaozong narrowed his eyes at her, and as she turned away, unable to meet his gaze, he seized the chance to lift her into his arms.

Qin Xueyao was so shocked her eyes and mouth formed perfect circles.

Mu Qinghan, panic rising, squirmed and looked about to cry.

“If you keep moving, I’ll drop you,” Yang Yaozong threatened, exasperated. When she wouldn’t listen, he hugged her more tightly and said, “Stop struggling, and I’ll tell you a story.”

Qin Xueyao, amused despite herself, wondered what sort of story he would tell at a time like this, and followed alongside. “Sister Mu, don’t move.”

Heartened by Qin Xueyao’s words, Mu Qinghan finally stopped resisting, though her head remained bowed in mortification.

As they walked, Yang Yaozong began his tale. “There was once a little monk who traveled with his master, a venerable high monk, begging for alms. All along the road, the young monk admired his master deeply, thinking he was always right and full of wisdom. One day, they reached a river where a young lady was trying and failing to cross. The old monk asked, ‘Young lady, would you like to cross?’ and, without hesitation, carried her across the river.”

By this point, the three of them had reached the front garden, where Qin Zheng and his wife were approaching with an elderly gentleman carrying a medicine chest.

Seeing Yang Yaozong still holding Mu Qinghan, Qin Zheng was puzzled. “Nephew Yang, what’s this…? I’ve already summoned a physician.” He indicated the old gentleman.

Yang Yaozong smiled. “Uncle Qin, Aunt Qin, Miss Mu has only a sprain—it’s nothing serious. But she can’t walk for now and wants to return to the clinic to prepare her own medicine. So I’ll escort her back. Where’s Uncle Zuo?”

At the dinner table, Yang Yaozong had started addressing both Qin Zheng and Zuo Qiutang as uncles rather than officials, much to their pleasure.

Qin Zheng replied with a smile, “Your Uncle Zuo has gone home already. I’ll have a carriage prepared to take you both to the clinic.”

Qin Zheng had only one wife, the Aunt Qin Yang Yaozong referred to. She had received Yang Yaozong warmly upon his arrival, and was quite fond of his handsome looks and genial nature. She had personally seen to the evening meal for her husband, Zuo Qiutang, and Yang Yaozong. Now, seeing him about to leave, she said warmly, “Yaozong, you must visit often. Treat this as your home, and tell me what you like to eat—I’ll cook anything you wish.” She then turned to Mu Qinghan in Yang Yaozong’s arms, “Qinghan, Xueyao and I will visit you tomorrow. Rest well tonight and don’t strain yourself.”

At last, Mu Qinghan lifted her head, her voice respectful. “Uncle Qin, Aunt Qin, there’s no need to prepare a carriage. I came in my own family’s carriage—it’s waiting outside.”

Qin Zheng nodded. “Very well. Yaozong, help Mu girl into her carriage.” He then turned to the physician. “Sorry to trouble you, Doctor Xu. Mu girl is fine now. I’ll have someone escort you home.”

Doctor Xu knew Mu Qinghan well and respected her medical skills. Curious as he was about the young man carrying her, he was not one for gossip. He smiled amiably. “No trouble at all. Since Doctor Mu is well, I’ll see myself out—no need for an escort.”

Together, they left the residence. Yang Yaozong settled Mu Qinghan into her carriage, then stepped down to bid farewell to Qin Zheng, his wife, and Qin Xueyao. “Uncle Qin, Aunt Qin, I’ll take my leave now,” he said, then climbed up to sit beside the coachman.

As he was about to go, Qin Xueyao called out, “Yang Yaozong, you haven’t finished your story!”

Qin Zheng and his wife paused, looking fondly and helplessly at their daughter, then at Yang Yaozong. Qin Zheng smiled, “We’ll head back inside.”

Yang Yaozong nodded, smiling. “I’ll come visit again soon, Uncle, Aunt.”

Once they’d gone in, he turned to where Qin Xueyao stood at the carriage window, still speaking with Mu Qinghan, and continued his tale. “The young monk was dumbfounded watching his master carry a woman across the river. He felt it was improper, but dared not ask. The question nagged at him for ten miles, twenty, then thirty. At last, he blurted out, ‘Master, I just can’t understand—how could a high monk carry a woman across the river?’ The old monk smiled, ‘I put her down the moment we crossed. But you, you’ve been carrying her for thirty miles and still haven’t let go.’ And that’s the end of the story. Farewell now.”

The carriage rolled away, leaving Qin Xueyao deep in thought, watching it disappear into the night.