Chapter Forty-Nine: The Fragmented Volume

“Do you feel that this medical text is missing its first half, and wonder why I’m giving it to you?” the curator asked.

Yan Heru was about to shake her head, but before she could, the curator began explaining on his own.

“In truth, this medical manual is incomplete. I only possess the latter half. Over the years, I have searched diligently for the first half, but to no avail. However, the two volumes, though a set, do not depend on each other—missing one does not hinder the use of the other. This book contains a wealth of knowledge, so I wished for you to study it.”

Yan Heru was filled with excitement. She looked at the curator and nodded earnestly, then received the manual from his hands.

“Master, rest assured. I will study its contents diligently,” Yan Heru said, clutching the book to her chest.

The curator smiled with deep satisfaction at her seriousness. “Go on, then. Rest early.”

Yan Heru nodded and took her leave.

As she exited the clinic, she noticed the young servant who had blocked her earlier standing at the door, looking around as if searching for someone.

When she appeared, the servant hurried over, his face fawning as he said, “It was my fault earlier; I shouldn’t have stopped you. Please, don’t hold it against me.”

Yan Heru had already forgotten the incident, but the servant’s sudden approach brought back the events of the day. Yet she had no desire to waste time on him. His attitude was not something that could be changed in a day; what needed changing was the entire clinic’s approach to its patients. Focusing on a single servant would achieve nothing.

“I have no intention of pursuing the matter. I only hope that next time, you won’t judge people by their appearance. Treat every patient equally, for you never know when you might find yourself in their shoes, asking for help,” Yan Heru said before walking away.

She didn’t even look back to see his reaction. The servant was momentarily stunned by her words, standing there in confusion, unable to grasp her meaning.

Wasn’t it the way of the world that people look up to the powerful and down on the weak? Shouldn’t you treat people according to their status? Equality—how could such a thing be possible?

He did not understand, but he was certain of one thing: Yan Heru would not be holding him accountable. With that knowledge, he was at ease.

Yan Heru returned to the prince’s residence, closed her door, and began to study the medical text.

She had wanted to examine it on the way back, but no matter how eager she felt, she knew better than to do so openly in the street.

Now she was the Ninth Prince’s consort. Though few on the street knew her identity or had seen her face, and it was unlikely anyone would recognize her, if she were to be discovered, it would bring shame to the prince’s household. She herself did not mind, but now she needed status. If Shen Hezhi suffered because of her actions, she would not escape unscathed either.

Furthermore, if she pored over the book in public, ill-intentioned people might mistake it for some treasure and attempt to snatch it. Even if she kept it safe, rumors might spread, and eventually, more people would covet what they believed to be a priceless artifact. What then?

“Mo Yi, guard the door. Let no one enter. If the prince returns, knock and let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Yan Heru hurriedly issued her instructions, then retreated to her room to study.

She sat at her table, poured herself a cup of tea, and began to read.

When she finally looked up from the book, she realized it was already midnight. Only after shifting her attention did she notice her fatigue.

The contents of the book were entirely new to her—things she had never seen or heard of before.

Many sections were clearly connected to the first half of the manual.

Before reading this second volume, she had believed the first half stood alone, unrelated to the latter. In a way, it could be true. But after reading this half, she realized that while the two could be studied separately, their contents could also be combined for deeper insight.

These two books were truly remarkable: each could be used independently, yet together they formed something entirely new.

Yan Heru was elated.

Tonight, she also discovered within this second half a better method for treating Shen Hezhi’s cold poison.

With this knowledge, she was confident she could cure him in just one month.

Once she cured him, she would have more time for herself. Shen Hezhi had already promised to provide her with a monthly allowance even after his poison was gone.

With that, her path to fortune seemed assured!

Yan Heru could almost taste her future wealth.

At the same time, she became aware of something else.

“I seem to have shed that state of wanting nothing at all…” she sighed.

In the modern world, she truly had no desires. On reflection, though, wasn’t that because she lacked for nothing—no worries about food or money, and the freedom to study her beloved medical arts?

Back then, her only pursuit was medicine. Not only she, but everyone around her, believed her to be a person without desires.

But wasn’t that contentment itself built on a foundation of abundance?

Now, in this unfamiliar world, she possessed neither money nor power, not even friends, and her skills had no outlet.

To accomplish anything here, she needed status and influence. Thus, she had left behind her tranquil state of wantlessness.

But perhaps that was not such a bad thing.

At least, that was how Yan Heru felt.

She tucked the medical text beneath her pillow, opened her door, and sat in the courtyard, gazing up at the moon, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

This moment—this feeling—was enough.

“It seems Your Highness is quite at ease; you’ve handled the affairs of the capital admirably.”

A man’s voice sounded from behind her, but Yan Heru did not turn around. She recognized him at once.

She raised her teacup, taking a delicate sip. “Thank you for the compliment.”