Chapter 098
Chapter 98: Buddha’s Chosen Brews Medicine Himself, and Only Xiao Man Gets This Treatment
Granny Chen planted herself in the doorway with her hands on her hips like a door god: “What kind of talk is that if even your own mother cannot hear it!”
She had clearly just arrived and happened to catch the most dangerous part of the warning. Her eyebrows shot up into a sharp inverted V. Inside the room, Old Chen and Shi Tou froze at once. Father and son felt their hearts drop together.
[We’re done for!]
[When did this Old Granny start standing at the door without a sound!]
Shi Tou’s mind turned fast. He pasted on a fawning smile and spoke before his father could be judged: “Mother, it was Father, my father!”
Pointing at Old Chen, he rattled on like firecrackers: “Father has his eye on a new cut of tobacco at the shop. He says it hits hard and smells good, but it costs more. He was whispering to me because he feared you would scold him for wasting money, so he did not dare tell you!”
At once Granny Chen’s doubt burst into anger. Her eyes cut toward Old Chen like knives: “Well now, Old Chen, you have some nerve!”
She snapped: “You smoke that shabby dry pipe and still want to pick and choose? You think you are the Master of the manor? Expensive? If it is expensive, do not even think about it!”
She had always felt that pipe smoking wasted money and hurt the body. “You dare scheme behind my back? Your skin must be itching. Not a chance!”
The heavy stone on Old Chen’s heart finally dropped. He grabbed the ladder his son had thrown him and hurried to climb down, squeezing out a daisy-like smile: “I will not change it, I will never change it! Old Granny, please do not be angry. I was only talking to taste the words.”
He bobbed his head: “From now on I will not hide anything. I will discuss everything with you first.”
Granny Chen snorted hard, nostrils to the sky, and for now let him go. Her sharp ears caught a faint sound from the small kitchen, so she asked offhand: “What is the Eldest Grandson Young Master doing in the small kitchen?”
“Boiling medicine,” blurted Shi Tou. The words jumped out, and he wanted to slap himself the next second.
“What?” Granny Chen’s voice, which had just come down, leaped back up eight notes, sharp enough to pierce the roof: “You let the Young Master boil his own medicine? You little brat! And you, you old fool! The two of you are hiding here chatting!”
Scolding as she moved, she rushed for the small kitchen like a gust of wind: “Hurry and come help me. The sky has flipped if you make the Master do rough work!”
She reached the doorway in a few quick steps and flipped up the worn cloth curtain. One look made her suck in a breath.
Lin Qing Xuan stood with a slight frown, still a bit awkward at the task, tending a small hanging medicine pot. He held a palm fan and slowly fanned the fire. His plain white robe looked all wrong in the smoky heat, like a white page splashed with ink, striking and out of place.
“Oh my Young Master, this is not work for you,” cried Granny Chen. She rushed up and reached to take the fan from his hand: “Put it down, put it down, mind your hands. Let that stinky brat Shi Tou do these chores, or let Old Granny do it.”
Lin Qing Xuan turned his body a little and lightly avoided her hand. His voice stayed cool and calm: “No need.”
He said, “This medicine must be simmered low and slow. The heat and timing both matter. I will watch it myself.”
Granny Chen’s hand stopped midair, then she slowly drew it back. Only now did she notice that the Young Master’s focus was even deeper than when he sat in Seated Meditation and chanted. His eyes were fixed on the dark liquid rolling in the pot. Each bubble that rose and broke tugged at his nerves. He did not look like he was boiling medicine. He looked like he was finishing some earth-shaking task.
Not daring to snatch again, she stepped aside, wringing her hands, and could not stop herself from chattering: “Young Master, what important medicine is this? What did Physician Wang say earlier? Is it your stomach? Let Shi Tou simmer it. Why are you standing in the kitchen yourself?”
“Nanny,” said Lin Qing Xuan without turning his head. His gaze stayed glued to the pot. “I am fine.”
He added, “This medicine is for Xiao Man.”
“For Xiao Man?” Granny Chen went blank. Questions buzzed through her head.
Just then the pot gave a soft, steady boil. The medicine was done.
Lin Qing Xuan used tongs with great care to lift the pot and strain every drop into a clean white porcelain bowl. The liquid was deep brown. A complex scent spread at once, sweet with herbs, warmed by brown sugar, tinged with ginger, red dates, and the faintest breath of blood.
He picked up the bowl and walked out. Passing the stunned Granny Chen, he did not stop. He left only a calm line: “Nanny, please tidy this place.”
“Yes,” she answered by habit, eyes locked on his back as he carried the steaming bowl straight toward his own bedroom.
Her doubts crashed into roaring waves. Xiao Man was in the Eldest Grandson Young Master’s bedroom?
On the other side, Xiao Man hugged a warm bed warmer and slept like a log on Lin Qing Xuan’s large bed with its soft quilts. A tiny smile rested at her lips.
Lin Qing Xuan stepped in with the bowl, his steps very light. Seeing her peaceful face, the strange fret in his chest eased and left only calm. But if the medicine cooled, its power would drop. He hesitated a moment, then went forward and gently nudged her: “Xiao Man, wake up and drink the medicine.”
“Who is it?” mumbled Xiao Man, still half asleep, not even opening her eyes.
“It is me, Lin Qing Xuan,” he said.
Those five words were louder than thunder. Xiao Man almost sprang off the bed. She jerked her eyes open and scrambled up, rushing to straighten her messy clothes and hair. Her mind went blank.
[H-how am I sleeping on his bed!]
Lin Qing Xuan stood quietly at the bedside with the white porcelain bowl. Light from the window traced his fine features. His face was as calm as ever, yet if you looked closely, the pale skin at his ears held a thin, suspicious flush.
“Eldest Grandson Young Master?” asked Xiao Man in a small, hoarse voice that still held sleep. “Did I fall asleep?”
He did not answer that. He simply offered the bowl a little closer and spoke as if stating the weather: “Drink this medicine.”
“Medicine?” Her eyes dropped to the dark liquid. The scent of brown sugar, old ginger, red dates, and other herbs she could not name drifted up. She blinked, stunned: “What medicine is this? For me? You boiled it?”
He let his eyes slide to the doorframe beside them. His tone stayed steady, but his words came a touch faster than usual: “It boosts energy and blood. It warms your meridians and drives out cold. For you right now, it will help.”
Xiao Man’s face flared red from cheeks to neck. Boost energy and blood, warm and scatter cold. He had boiled this especially for her.
“I can boil it myself,” she said, tongue-tied and at a loss for where to put her hands. “Thank you, Young Master, I really…”
“Drink it while it is hot,” he said, pushing the bowl a little closer until the rim nearly touched her fingers. His voice left no room to refuse. “If it cools, it will not work as well.”
His gaze finally returned to her flushed face. In those usually still eyes, a quick flash of concern darted by and was gone, leaving calm again. “Physician Wang said this formula is very good for building energy and blood. It is not something ordinary,” he added, as if to explain the medicine’s value and give her a reason she could not refuse.
Around the corner of the courtyard wall, Granny Chen clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were round, her breath held, as she took in the whole scene. Her heart was past storm and waves. It was crashing sky and falling earth.
[Our otherworldly Buddha’s Chosen Young Master actually boiled a tonic for Xiao Man, then carried it to her bedside himself!]
[This is not normal master and maid. This is doting her down to the bone. If they were not already set, this would never happen. It must be set!]
[I have lived most of my life, and today I truly saw a miracle!]