After handing the prescription to Lu Yaoqing, Qin Chaoyu didn’t concern herself with it further. She wasn’t worried that Lu Yaoqing would refuse to sign the contract after testing the results. It wasn’t so much that she trusted him, but rather that she trusted Old Man Li. However, if he did renege, it would only prove his lack of vision, and his future achievements would inevitably be limited.
Yet, recalling the eyes she had seen that day, Qin Chaoyu felt that someone with such eyes couldn’t have poor character.
As Qin Chaoyu treated more and more patients, word of her skills spread even without deliberate promotion. Soon, Tongrentang was packed with patients seeking her out. Since she primarily treated elderly patients, many assumed she specialized in geriatric medicine, and thus, the majority of those who came were older individuals.
The atmosphere at Tongrentang became lively. With so many seniors waiting for treatment, they often struck up conversations during the downtime. Some even continued visiting after being cured, simply to chat. The pharmacy assistants kept tea ready at all times, making the place resemble a social gathering rather than a medical clinic.
With the influx of patients, Qin Chaoyu couldn’t handle everything alone, so Old Man Li was roped into helping. After all, Tongrentang wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t an in-house physician.
Despite the busy schedule, Qin Chaoyu was delighted to treat so many patients. At the same time, her desire to open her own clinic grew stronger. However, she wasn’t in a hurry—her foundation wasn’t yet solid. She intended to take her time, for her ultimate goal was to revive her sect.
~
It’s often said that studying medicine is arduous, and that’s no exaggeration. While students in other majors might have lighter schedules in their first year, medical students were different—they had classes from Monday to Saturday. Yes, even Saturday, though only one session.
On Saturdays, most students would hang out—shopping, watching movies—and there was a saying that a university experience wasn’t complete without skipping class. But the first-year students of the Chinese Medicine College didn’t dare skip this one, nor did they want to.
The class was Acupuncture. The subject alone wasn’t enough to deter truancy—the real reason was the instructor. The professor was a senior academic, nearing retirement, with decades of teaching experience.
He always wore a perfectly pressed Zhongshan suit, his hair meticulously groomed. He was a well-known figure at Yuzhou University, recognized even by students outside the Chinese Medicine College.
Despite his age, his skills were undeniable. He had once been a specially appointed expert at a top-tier hospital in the city, renowned for his family’s acupuncture techniques. Logically, someone of his stature wouldn’t teach at a university, but it was said that in his youth, he had been persecuted and was protected by a former president of Yuzhou University. Out of gratitude, he had stayed and taught for decades. Over the years, he had taken on several disciples, all of whom had since established themselves in the field of Chinese medicine. This reputation made his classes highly sought after, with many students hoping to be accepted as his personal disciple and learn his true expertise.
With such stakes, who would dare skip his class?
After all, regardless of why one studied Chinese medicine, no one would pass up the chance to reach greater heights.
The acupuncture class was scheduled for the second session on Saturday, starting at 10 a.m.—late enough for students to wake up and prepare. However, Qian Fangyuan was not only a late riser but also slow-moving. She was the type who insisted on applying full makeup before leaving, a process that could take over an hour. To ensure they got good seats, Qin Chaoyu told Qian Fangyuan she’d go ahead to the classroom and save spots.
Seeing Qin Chaoyu leave, Bai Pengpeng quickly followed, leaving only the patient Miao Zhaodi to wait for Qian Fangyuan.
When Qin Chaoyu and Bai Pengpeng arrived, the classroom was still relatively empty, allowing them to secure prime seats—not the back rows, but ones close to the podium with an excellent view.
With time before class started, Qin Chaoyu opened an ancient medical text she had retrieved from her spatial storage the previous day. Since discovering the medical books left behind by her sect, she had been studying them whenever possible. However, the collection spanned centuries of accumulated knowledge, and even with her diligence, she had read less than a fifth of it.
The book was old, its pages yellowed, the characters written in brush calligraphy—clearly a rare antique.
Bai Pengpeng, who had seen Qin Chaoyu reading such books multiple times, grew curious.
“Chaoyu,” she asked, “I’ve noticed you often read these kinds of medical texts. Do you have a mentor or a family background in medicine?”
After spending time together, Bai Pengpeng knew that Qin Chaoyu treated patients at Tongrentang every Sunday. She had wanted to visit, but Qin Chaoyu left early, and Bai Pengpeng never managed to wake up in time. Still, the fact that Qin Chaoyu could practice medicine suggested her skills were solid.
Bai Pengpeng asked partly out of curiosity and partly because she wanted to understand Qin Chaoyu better. From the moment they met, she had felt an inexplicable fondness for her, a desire to befriend her. The closer she got, the more mysterious Qin Chaoyu seemed.
Rather than investigating behind her back, Bai Pengpeng chose to ask directly, fearing that prying might ruin their friendship. So far, she only knew that Qin Chaoyu owned a villa in Yuping District, was financially comfortable, had a pleasant personality, and seemed skilled in medicine.
Without looking up from her book, Qin Chaoyu replied, “I had a mentor. I studied under them since childhood, so you could say it’s a family tradition.”
“Oh, so you already know all the basics in our textbooks,” Bai Pengpeng said, realization dawning. “No wonder you seem disinterested in lectures and always read these advanced texts instead.”
Qin Chaoyu sighed inwardly. She wanted to pay attention in class, but the material was too elementary—things she had long mastered. She couldn’t justify wasting time on knowledge she already knew by heart, not when there were so many unread medical books in her spatial storage.
Seeing Qin Chaoyu engrossed in her reading, Bai Pengpeng held back further questions and picked up her own textbook.
If Chaoyu was this diligent, she had to keep up. After all, she was determined to be Qin Chaoyu’s best friend!
By the time Qian Fangyuan and Miao Zhaodi arrived, the classroom was already full.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage