Chapter Five: Entering the Mountain

“Yes, sir.” The steward Hu Shoufu promptly replied, then gave a slight push to the doctor, who still seemed to want to say more. The two quickly disappeared into the backyard.

Originally, the doctor intended to say that curing such an illness would be difficult for anyone. Unless the old madam could be sent to the warm southern regions, this ailment, if prolonged, would be fatal.

But obviously, even if said, the general could do nothing about it. Looking across the three provinces of Xuan State, there was no place with a warm climate. Such words would be futile.

After the steward and doctor left, Hu Buyun stood there, his face marked with pain.

His father had died of illness when he was very young, and it was his mother who had raised him with great hardship. Now that he had achieved some success, it was time to repay his mother’s kindness. Yet, she had fallen ill with no cure in sight, which troubled him deeply.

Beside him, Ren Qinghu observed everything and finally understood why the general was so worried. In the past, he might have been helpless in such situations, but now he immediately thought of the prisoner Jia Fanghao, whom they had recently escorted from the capital.

“General, the old madam is blessed by heaven. Moreover, a cough is not a serious disease. Perhaps this doctor’s skill is limited. Coincidentally, the person I brought from the capital is Jia, a former imperial physician from the Royal Hospital. He might have an effective remedy.”

“Oh?” Hu Buyun, who had been at a loss, immediately brightened upon hearing this. “Thanks to Qinghu’s reminder, go and bring him here right away.”

“General, Jia has been traveling nonstop and has fallen ill. It would be better to wait until he recovers somewhat before inviting him. Otherwise, if he brings a cold to the old madam…” Ren Qinghu left the rest unsaid, confident the general would understand.

“Ah, in my haste, I forgot everything. Then let Jia rest for one night. If my mother’s cough worsens tomorrow, we’ll summon him.” Hu Buyun, upon hearing that Jia Fanghao was also ill, worried about the risk of contagion and decided to wait.

...

At the Jia residence.

As dusk fell, Yu Luoli prepared a warm meal using the stored grain, feeding the family of four.

After dinner, in an era lacking entertainment, people went to bed early. Jia Ping’an was no exception. Having only rested in a carriage these past days, feeling unwell, he was finally able to lie on a bed and sleep soundly.

But just as Jia Ping’an sought restful sleep, his wishes were not granted. About an hour after lying down, Yu Luoli entered his chamber.

She made no sound, not even knocking, only softly calling “Brother An” twice when she reached his bedside.

Since taking the Lingquan water, Jia Ping’an’s senses had sharpened. He was startled awake when Yu Luoli appeared outside the door. Hearing her call, curious about her intentions, he feigned sleep.

After a few soft calls, seeing no response, Yu Luoli approached closer and with her right hand raised slightly, released a wisp of yellow smoke that drifted directly onto Jia Ping’an’s face.

The smoke was yellow. With the medical knowledge inherited in this body, Jia Ping’an, squinting, quickly recognized it as ordinary confusion smoke. He held his breath at once.

As the yellow smoke dispersed, Yu Luoli’s courage grew. She opened her left hand, revealing a tiny object no larger than a fingernail. She then muttered several unintelligible incantations, and a parasitic insect hidden within Jia Ping’an’s body crawled out from his mouth.

“Eat well. Don’t trouble your host these days,” she whispered softly.

Though Jia Ping’an couldn’t open his eyes to see, he could imagine the scene clearly. He was not surprised.

It was obvious: Yu Luoli knew he was heading into the mountains tomorrow and, considering his weak body, had come late at night to feed the parasite so it wouldn’t cause trouble.

He had suspected before that Yu Luoli wished for his health but not for his life. Now it seemed his guess was correct.

After about half a tea cup’s time, the parasite was full and crawled back into Jia Ping’an’s body. Satisfied, Yu Luoli left.

The room fell silent again. Jia Ping’an slowly opened his eyes, growing ever more curious about this Yu Luoli. “Wait. Whatever your intentions, I will uncover them all in due time.”

The night passed quietly. At dawn, Jia Ping’an rose. Yu Luoli had already prepared breakfast and greeted him with a calm expression, showing no guilt.

Jia Ping’an also pretended ignorance, eating as usual before mentioning his plan to enter the mountains.

As expected, Yu Luoli showed no concern like yesterday, merely advising him not to venture too deep and to return promptly if he felt unwell.

Jia Rongrong, learning of his departure, was reluctant and wished to accompany him. But upon hearing that the destination was the deep, cold mountains, her interest quickly waned. Ningguta was already cold; the mountains would be far worse, a hardship she could not endure.

Jia Ping’an, unwilling to have anyone follow him, especially preferred that his sister stay behind. After some preparations, especially donning thick clothes, he set out alone.

Though unfamiliar with Ningguta, many city folk made a living harvesting ginseng, so asking around on the road quickly revealed the mountain path.

Even in the deep mountains, Jia Ping’an was not the only one going up. With the recent snow melted and new snow possibly coming, more people went in to try their luck before winter fully set in.

At the mountain foot, the ground was covered with countless footprints, showing many had ventured here.

Having learned the general direction, Jia Ping’an strode decisively into the forest. Thanks to Ren Qinghu’s earlier advice, he already understood the rules of ginseng harvesting and needed no further guidance.

Wild ginseng was particular; not all were valuable. There was a saying: seven taels made a ginseng, eight taels made a treasure.

Simply put, if the ginseng was too small or immature, it was worthless. For example, a ginseng barely sprouted weighing only a few qian was usually ignored by harvesters as it held no value and would be a waste of resources to pick.

With the spatial pocket at his disposal, Jia Ping’an need not worry. His goal was precisely these tiny, unwanted ginsengs. With twenty acres of black soil, he was eager to see how quickly transplanted wild ginseng would grow and whether miracles might occur.

The mountain was thick with mud from the recent snowmelt. Strangely, this early September had brought the first snow of the year, earlier than usual.

The mud was deep. One step in, half a shoe sole sank completely.

That was just at the foot of the mountain; deeper in, one might sink up to their calves.

No wonder so many people were entering the mountains now. If heavy snow came, venturing up then would be deadly.

Besides the difficult path, the cold was severe. Having lived through Earth’s warming in his previous life, Jia Ping’an, though born in the northeast, rarely experienced such chill. Feeling the biting wind, he instinctively tightened his collar.

He then drank a gulp of the concocted Lingquan water, feeling warmth spread from his core. Looking up at the deep mountains, his steps grew firmer.

Following the footprints left by others, Jia Ping’an walked about five li, taking a full hour. Fortune favored him as he soon spotted a patch of green on the ground.

Thanks to his worldly experience, Jia Ping’an recognized wild ginseng at a glance. This one was just beginning to grow, not yet medicinal.

Among the people, there were many customs surrounding ginseng harvesting.

For instance, before digging, the team leader, called “Digging Head,” would lead all harvesters in a solemn mountain spirit worship ceremony. Afterward, the search for wild ginseng was called “chasing the mountain” or “releasing the mountain,” with complex and respectful rituals.

For example, the first person to find wild ginseng would shout “Club!” The leader would immediately ask, “How many leaves?” The finder must answer “three leaves” or “five leaves.” The group would respond “Quick! Quick!” Then, the ginseng would be tied with a red string by the leader, symbolizing the spirit’s capture and preventing its escape.

To Jia Ping’an, however, these elaborate procedures were unnecessary. With his spatial ability, he could simplify everything.

Upon seeing a wild ginseng weighing about two qian—roughly ten grams—he simply placed his hand over its leaves and, with a thought, transferred the entire root, including tendrils and soil, into his space.

Once inside, this was Jia Ping’an’s domain. He could move items anywhere within it at will, often with just a single thought.