Chapter Twenty-One: The Thousand-Year Fox Tells Tales of the Strange

“He’s actually coveting the capsules and the formula—no wonder he’s come so early this morning, first giving me the estate, then his daughter!” As a chill spread through his heart, an invisible blaze of anger surged straight to Zhang Qian’s brow. “Had I known things would turn out like this, it would have been better to let him die. That would have spared me a world of trouble!”

But regret is a medicine that cannot be found. Now, Zhang Qian could only sneer, cupping his hands and speaking loudly, “Since the master of the estate can already walk, those medicines are dispensable. As for the formula, it is a secret not passed down by my sect; I have neither the authority to know it, nor the ability to replicate such medicine even if I did!”

“You misunderstand me, young master!” As if he had anticipated Zhang Qian’s reaction, Ren Qiong showed no sign of anger, only smiled and gently cupped his hands, “I can swear before heaven, I have no designs on your miraculous medicine, nor would I ever repay kindness with betrayal. If I did, I would simply seize it outright—since that would certainly make us enemies, why bother with the pretense of gifting you an estate first?!”

“Hm—” Zhang Qian frowned, both doubtful and tempted to believe.

His words, indeed, made some sense. Alone and staying at Ren’s estate, a genuine ‘refugee’ in every sense, even if the Ren family quietly killed him, the authorities would likely turn a blind eye. If they stole his capsules, enmity would be inevitable; gifting him the estate or not, the outcome would be the same!

“Young master, I truly wish to repay the debt of saving my life, which is why I deliberately raised the matter of miraculous medicine and the formula!” Seeing most of Zhang Qian’s anger replaced by suspicion, Ren Qiong cupped his hands again and explained in a loud voice, “You used strange arts and miraculous medicine to save my life, witnessed by many. I’ve been barely alive these past few days, unable to order anyone to keep silent. In fact, even if I did give such an order, walls have ears—no secret stays hidden forever! I believe it won’t be long before your reputation as a divine physician spreads throughout Chang’an.”

He gave Zhang Qian several moments to ponder, then sipped his tea, his voice dropping suddenly: “If you still have plenty of miraculous medicine left, you may treat the sincere requests of others and practice healing for the world. But if you only have a few pills, or none at all, and others come to beg, will you give or refuse? If you refuse, they will surely resent you. If you give, the first will bring the second, and when your medicine is exhausted, so too will your goodwill, leaving you with nothing but enemies. If they come seeking revenge, how will you cope?”

“This…” Zhang Qian had only thought the chubby boy pitiful, never expecting that saving a life would bring so many entanglements. Ren Qiong’s questions left him dumbfounded.

Ren Qiong, indeed the mastermind behind dozens of trading houses, took another sip of water and added slowly, “Those are merely the ways of ordinary folk. If a noble or official family comes seeking medicine and is denied, they may turn violent out of humiliation and rage. How will you protect yourself? The reigning emperor is wise, rivers run clear and tranquil, and the court is full of distinguished scholars—yet there are always one or two unreasonable sons of princes and nobles. If they demand your secret formula, will you give it or not?”

“Furthermore, my earlier questions were not random. I asked whether your sect could be found, and you had no hope. I asked if you had family in Hejian, and you shook your head in sorrow. If you came from a local elite family, or had a powerful sect behind you, others might hesitate to covet your medicine and secrets. But you have neither family nor sect for support; holding miraculous medicine and secret formulas is no different from a toddler parading through the market with a brick of gold.”

“This—” Cold sweat flowed down Zhang Qian’s forehead and temples.

Wise emperor, tranquil rivers? When he studied history, he never heard the Emperor Zhongzong described as a virtuous ruler!

One or two unreasonable nobles? Even in the twenty-first century, in Korea and Southeast Asia, the scions of the wealthy rarely treat commoners fairly; bullying and seizing what they want is routine. How much worse must it have been in the Tang dynasty, in the early eighth century!

To such people, coveting your medicine and formula is a favor—they expect you to hand them over without protest. To bargain or hoard is pure fantasy!

At last, Zhang Qian understood why Imperial Physician Sun had asked if he had any more miraculous pills, and why, upon hearing he did not, Sun had been visibly relieved.

It turned out that as soon as Zhang Qian produced Bafuning and cephalosporin capsules to save Ren Qiong, Imperial Physician Sun foresaw the risks it would bring, and kindly warned him. But Zhang Qian had failed to grasp the implication, and as a stranger, Sun had no reason to explain further!

Now, as Ren Qiong laid everything bare, dissecting it with clarity, Zhang Qian realized he was already half a step away from plunging over a cliff. The elaborate identity he had invented after days of careful thought, which he believed airtight, appeared to the eyes of true Tang people as little more than a suicide rope!

Heaven above, how can survival in the Tang dynasty be so fraught?

“Father, father, you have a solution, don’t you? Please say it! Brother Zhang got himself into all this trouble saving you!” Before Zhang Qian could recover from shock and regret, the chubby Ren Chong had rushed to his father’s side, clutching his uninjured arm and shaking it fiercely. “You have a close friendship with Lord Duan—can’t you ask him to look after Brother Zhang? When I begged Brother Zhang to save your life, he didn’t hesitate for a second, and now…”

“Let go! If you keep shaking, you’ll tear my wound open!” Ren Qiong turned and glared at his son, rebuking him loudly. Then he quickly shifted his gaze to Zhang Qian, smiling as he asked, “Does young master Zhang have any way out? If so, speak it, and I will help you consider it. If not, I’ve already thought of a solution, but whether it can be used depends on whether you believe I have no ulterior motives.”

“You jest, master Ren. You’ve laid everything out before me, speaking openly and honestly—how could I still doubt your intentions?” Having been battered by life since childhood, Zhang Qian’s cold sweat appeared quickly, and vanished just as fast. Shaking his head with a wry smile, he respectfully cupped his hands to Ren Qiong. “I am new here and unfamiliar with Chang’an. Faced with such trouble, I ask you to guide me out of this maze!”

“Good, good!” Ren Qiong hadn’t expected Zhang Qian to trust him so unconditionally, and nodded in appreciation. “Since you are so straightforward, I won’t mince words. Do you know, young master, when is it most dangerous for a child carrying a brick of gold to pass through a busy market?”