The forest path was carpeted with pine needles, soft as velvet underfoot, yet it could not conceal the hidden gravel beneath. Ling Yue followed behind Tom and Lily, the bronze medicine box at his hip rocking lightly with his steps. The clean scent of herbs inside mingled with the forest's damp breath and became his only comfort for the moment.
After about half an hour the trees ahead thinned, and the outline of a wooden palisade came into view—Brookwood Town. It was not large. Most houses were built of raw timber, their roofs thatched dark brown. Smoke from chimneys carried the toasty aroma of bread and unraveled on the morning breeze. A few bright-feathered birds perched on the fence and cocked their heads at them; as Tom drew near, they flapped off toward the wheat fields.
"Look! It's Tom and Lily!"
A woman with a water pail at the fence spotted them first. She set the pail down and ran over, and when her gaze fell on Tom's leg she sucked in a sharp breath. "Heavens, Tom—your leg…"
Tom grinned and lifted his injured calf a little. "Aunt Martha, I'm fine! Thanks to Ling Yue. He used herbs to treat it, even the magic poison is gone."
Martha's eyes turned to Ling Yue, frankly appraising. The man before her wore an odd blue-green short tunic, his hair was ink-black—unlike the blonds and browns of the townsfolk—and though his face was expressionless there was a quiet poise about him. She hesitated. "Herbs? Herbs without magic? Tom, you know how vicious magic poison is. Even Master Grey's purification potion needs half a day to brew, how could that be…"
Before she finished, several villagers had gathered, chattering at once. Some stared curiously at Ling Yue's bronze box; some frowned and muttered that "non-magical cures are heresy"; someone else ran to tell the mayor that "a stranger using odd methods to heal" had arrived.
Lily's face burned red. Clutching Tom's sleeve, she whispered, "I knew they'd doubt it… we should have told the mayor first."
Ling Yue paid the talk no mind. His gaze had settled on a wooden house not far off, where several villagers clustered and a child's crying could be faintly heard. A woman sat on the steps hugging a boy of about five. The child's face was flushed, his breathing rapid, and a dry, cracked layer had formed on his lips. As she patted his back, the woman wiped at her tears.
"That's little Jack from the Ben family,"
Tom followed his gaze, his voice dropping. "He started a fever yesterday, coughing hard, and he's got a rash. Master Grey said he was poisoned by magic-plant spores and gave them a small vial of purification potion, but it did nothing. The fever got worse."
Ling Yue found his feet carrying him forward. He could see little Jack's chest heaving, his nostrils flaring, and unshed tears clinging at the corners of his eyes. The boy's face flushed with an unhealthy heat. He gave a faint whimper, as though even crying took more strength than he had, and the woman's sobbing swelled with it. "Jack, my little Jack, what will your mother do if anything happens to you…"
"Make way, make way!"
A man in a dark brown robe shouldered through the crowd. A silver badge pinned to his chest bore the symbol of a potion-maker—it was the Grey Tom and Lily had mentioned. He frowned at the woman, impatience in his tone. "I told you, magic-plant spore poison isn't easily purged. I don't have much purification potion. The town guard and the nobles get priority. If you want to save the child, bring me five gold coins and I'll give you another vial, otherwise…"
"Five gold coins?"
The woman's head snapped up, eyes red. "We can hardly afford bread. How would we have five gold? Master Grey, can't you show some mercy and save the child first?"
"Healing isn't charity."
Grey gave a cold snort and swept the crowd with his gaze. When he saw Ling Yue, his eyes chilled at once. "Who are you? Dressed like that, carrying a strange box—are you from elsewhere?"
Ling Yue did not answer him. He looked at the woman instead, his voice quiet yet carrying a steadying strength. "May I examine the child? I might be able to help."
"You?"
Grey let out a short laugh, as if at a joke. "You don't even have a magic badge and dare claim you can heal? Here to swindle money? I warn you, Brookwood doesn't welcome frauds—much less those who treat with heretical methods."
The murmuring swelled. Some echoed Grey: "Right, without magic how could you cure magic-plant poison?" "What if he harms little Jack?" Martha tugged at Ling Yue's sleeve and whispered, "Stranger, best not to meddle. Master Grey is the only potion-maker in town. No one dares cross him."
Ling Yue did not move. He only looked at the woman. She hesitated, then edged closer with the child in her arms. Tears still streaked her face, but there was a sliver of desperate hope in her voice. "You… can you really save my child? If you can save him, I'll do anything."
Ling Yue nodded and crouched. He touched little Jack's forehead with a fingertip. The burning heat made his brows knit. He lifted the boy's collar and saw faint red patches on his neck that blanched briefly under pressure. The coating on the child's tongue was thick and yellow.
"It isn't magic-plant spore poisoning,"
Ling Yue said, standing. "It's damp-heat lodged inside, and he also caught wind-cold. That's why he has fever, cough, and a rash. I need sweet wormwood, mint, and mugwort leaves, plus a clay pot and some clean water. Do you have them at home?"
"Yes, yes!"
The woman nodded quickly and hurried toward the house with her child. "I'll get them right now! There's wormwood and mint in the yard, and I dried mugwort last year."
Grey's face darkened further. He stepped in to block Ling Yue. "Stop spreading nonsense here. I know magic-plant symptoms better than anyone. You're just a stranger—what could you know? If you make the child worse, who takes responsibility?"
"I will."
Ling Yue met his gaze, calm yet carrying a resolve that brooked no doubt. "If the child does not improve, I am at your disposal. But if I cure him, you will admit that herbs are no heresy and can heal."
The villagers fell silent, their eyes flicking between Ling Yue and Grey. Tom and Lily stood at Ling Yue's side. Tom clenched his fists. "Master Grey, Ling Yue already healed my leg. You should give him a chance!" Lily nodded. "Yes! Magic isn't all-powerful. You can't dismiss his methods just because he doesn't use magic."
Grey stared at Ling Yue for several seconds. Seeing no hint of retreat and catching the villagers' curious looks, he finally snorted and stepped back. "Fine. I'll give you one chance. But remember, if anything goes wrong, don't think you'll leave Brookwood."
Soon the woman came running back with what he'd asked for, along with a battered clay pot. Taking the items, Ling Yue found a sheltered corner of the yard. He rinsed the sweet wormwood and mint, set them in the pot, poured in clean water, and added a handful of dried mugwort leaves. Then he gathered a few stones to build a simple makeshift stove and lit the firewood with matches a villager passed him.
Flame licked at the pot's underside. The water began to bubble, and the herbs slowly released their clean fragrance. Ling Yue crouched by the little stove, now and then nudging the kindling with a twig, watching the herbs in the pot with steady focus. Sunlight fell across his profile and cast the shadow of his lashes beneath his eyes, lending him an unexpected gentleness.
Lily edged up to Tom and whispered, "Look at him. He really seems to know these herbs… The 'damp-heat' and 'wind-cold' he mentioned—I don't understand them, but it sounds impressive."
Tom nodded. Watching Ling Yue's back, he suddenly felt that this stranger who had appeared out of nowhere might truly bring something different to Brookwood.
After about a quarter of an hour, Ling Yue doused the fire. When the decoction had cooled a little, he ladled some out and handed it to the woman. "Have him sip it slowly. When he's finished, tuck him in to sleep. Give him another dose when he wakes. By morning his fever should break."
The woman took the bowl and fed little Jack with care. The brew was faintly bitter; he frowned and tried to turn away, but her soft coaxing won out and he drank it down little by little. Not long after, his breathing evened, the flush on his face faded a shade, and he drifted off to sleep.
"He's asleep! He really fell asleep!" the woman whispered in delight, her eyes reddening again, this time with glad tears. "Thank you, thank you! Stranger, you've saved our family."
The onlookers wore looks of surprise. Those who had doubted Ling Yue held their tongues now, and there was a new respect in their eyes. Grey's face darkened, then blanched. He shot Ling Yue a venomous glare, spun on his heel, and left without a word.
Ling Yue looked at the sleeping boy, and the tight set of his shoulders eased a little. He glanced down at the wooden ladle in his hand, still stained with traces of the brew, and a faint warmth rose within him. Perhaps here he was not only searching for his past but could also do something that mattered.
"Ling Yue,"
Tom came over and clapped his shoulder. "I knew you could do it! Come on, I'll take you to the mayor. She'll be glad to meet you!"
Ling Yue nodded and followed Tom toward the mayor's house at the town center. Sunlight threaded the gaps between wooden houses and cast long shadows on the ground, and the herbal scent rising from the bronze box seemed stronger than before.