Xiangzhou Chapter: Soul Transmigration to Another World Chapter 6: Diagnosing the Magistrate's Illness

Upon hearing this, Ye Qiaoqiao remained silent for a long moment. She had just checked the perpetual calendar; the next several days were marked as days of ill omen—unsuitable for causing trouble, lest she risk imprisonment. Moreover, the person before her was merely a servant boy, not worthy of knowing too much.

Besides, the Chen family estate was here precisely to seize the gold from the servant’s official quarters!

Ye Qiaoqiao smiled gracefully and replied politely, “Not at all. The scholar ranked third in the imperial examination is simply heading to the capital to pay homage at the palace.”

For now, she only wished to delay her plan to reclaim the family estate, prioritizing the pursuit of gold instead.

Han Xiang, standing nearby, heard her mistress’s words and felt like saying something but, catching the smile in Ye Qiaoqiao’s eyes, instinctively understood that her mistress was making a calculated move. So she held her tongue, trusting her.

The servant boy, hearing this, smiled apologetically and said, “Then, as his wife, you may also represent the scholar to attend the banquet.”

“In that case, I shall accept the invitation on behalf of my family’s scholar,” Ye Qiaoqiao said with a smile still gracing her lips.

After the servant left, Han Xiang could no longer contain her curiosity and asked, “Miss, we were so ruthless to Chen Bailai the other day, even sent Uncle Zhang to chase and beat him. Why say such things in front of this steward boy?”

Ye Qiaoqiao picked up the perpetual calendar and said quietly, “The gold lies right before us. Why not seize it when there’s money to be made?”

“Gold right before us?” Han Xiang was puzzled. She had been endlessly pondering how to earn a few taels of gold, never imagining her mistress would express it in such a way.

Ye Qiaoqiao’s tone turned serious. “Yes. We’ll put on fine clothes and visit the magistrate’s residence tomorrow.”

“All right,” Han Xiang replied promptly, asking no further questions, and began preparing their clothes for the next day.

Meanwhile, Uncle Zhang and the others returned to the Chen family estate after severely injuring Chen Bailai. Just as they crossed the threshold of the main house, Uncle Zhang loudly and excitedly announced, “Miss, the prediction was spot on! We found Chen Bailai resting at the inn and beat him senseless while blindfolded.”

Hearing the voice, Ye Qiaoqiao set aside her book on the history of the Yanzhou continent’s development and reflected on Uncle Zhang’s capture of Chen Bailai.

No wonder her calculations were so accurate—she had used the original owner’s memory of Chen Bailai’s birth date at marriage to precisely pinpoint his location. It seemed that, like in ancient times of the modern world, the Yanzhou continent employed the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches calendar system.

Each sixty years marked a full cycle, and they had just entered the Gengwu month of the Jiayin year.

This was perfect—her skills as a metaphysical predictor could now be fully exercised.

Raising her head to instruct Uncle Zhang to help tidy up, she suddenly noticed his collapsed nasal bridge and immediately changed her tone. “Uncle Zhang, what happened to your nose?”

Uncle Zhang reached up with his rough right hand to touch his nose. During the scuffle with Chen Bailai, he had been accidentally struck on the nose, though it didn’t hurt much.

He looked at Ye Qiaoqiao in confusion and replied, “It’s nothing much.”

Ye Qiaoqiao stared intently at his nose, recalling that a sunken nasal bridge symbolized unstable foundation. If it were a long-term deformity, it would indicate poor financial fortune. But if caused by an external injury that healed soon enough, it would be of no great consequence.

Clearly, Uncle Zhang’s injury was the latter.

“Nothing to worry about. Uncle Zhang, you should take a break from work and rest your nose at home,” Ye Qiaoqiao said gently.

Fearing he might overthink it, she added warmly, “Rest well and come back when you’re ready. As for your wages, I won’t shortchange you—you’ll be paid in full.”

Seeing his young mistress speak so kindly, Uncle Zhang stopped pretending ignorance.

A starving camel is bigger than a horse, after all—even if his mistress was currently poor and unable to pay, the Ye family in Xiangzhou City was still wealthy and powerful.

With that in mind, Uncle Zhang chuckled, “Alright, alright. I’ll rest for a couple of days and then come help you with chores.”

“Thank you, Uncle Zhang,” Ye Qiaoqiao said gratefully.

The next day, Han Xiang prepared everything, and the two set out for the magistrate’s residence.

Thanks to the original owner’s memories, Ye Qiaoqiao already knew that the magistrate of Xiangzhou City was a fourth-rank official named Dong Feiguang.

Having been in office only a year, he had invited Chen Bailai partly because the latter had just achieved the title of third scholar, and partly because he needed to win over talent to stabilize his position.

As for the new distinguished guest, Ye Qiaoqiao had her suspicions—besides the one who had treated her with silver, no one else dared.

Approaching the magistrate’s gate, before entering the main courtyard, a servant boy greeted them with a smile. “Madam of the third scholar, this way please.”

Ye Qiaoqiao and Han Xiang followed the servant into the courtyard. At its center stood a massive pillar. They circled around the courtyard, passing through a long corridor to the main guest hall.

Before they could speak, a tall, burly man in a deep blue official robe, with a wide black belt at his waist, looked toward them. From afar, he radiated an imposing aura.

Of course, one who could hold the post of magistrate of Xiangzhou at forty was no ordinary man, Ye Qiaoqiao thought.

The servant courteously led Ye Qiaoqiao to the magistrate. Dong Feiguang’s already stern face tightened further as he asked the servant, “Why is it a woman who comes?”

The servant, sweating nervously, replied, “Sir, didn’t you say before that even a wife could represent him?”

Dong Feiguang’s gaze swept Ye Qiaoqiao up and down, then shifted back to the servant with changing eyes. “A few days ago, that third scholar submitted a death notice for Ye Qiaoqiao here, didn’t he? Where did she come from now?”

“The notice was submitted, but Madam Chen said the Lord of the Underworld wouldn’t take her, so she came back to life,” the servant said, bowing repeatedly.

Dong Feiguang stroked his beard and looked skeptically at Ye Qiaoqiao. “Madam Chen, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Ye Qiaoqiao, studying his face, noted that although stern, his tone carried a sincere and trustworthy quality. She thus followed the servant’s lead, “Indeed, the Lord of the Underworld refused me, so I came back.”

This was a respectful way of saying, “Sir, you have not been mistaken.”

Dong Feiguang stroked his beard again, murmuring Ye Qiaoqiao’s name as he paced thoughtfully. After a long moment, he finally said, “You may leave for now. My distinguished guest here is not yet worthy of meeting the madam of the third scholar.”

Ye Qiaoqiao seemed to have expected this and did not sit but stood gracefully, replying, “I understand your guest is beyond my status to receive, but I have a way to cure your illness.”

“Oh? You know what ailment I suffer from?” Dong Feiguang’s usually dull eyes brightened slightly.

Ye Qiaoqiao saw the haze in his gaze and smiled faintly. She had already read from his demeanor that Magistrate Dong Feiguang was a man who deeply valued his life. Confidently, she said, “When I entered the courtyard just now, I sensed it clearly—Sir, do you often feel a sharp, stabbing pain in your chest, like being pierced by needles? Especially when angry, the pain worsens?”