(For Chapter 1-163, go to (https://chrysanthemumgarden.com/novel-tl/awbtv/))
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Since summer had set in, the Haicheng had seen less of its heavy mist. At dawn, as the sun climbed up from the east, everything was bright and glistening — even the narrowest corners deep inside the alleys were dusted with a warm, orange-gold shimmer.
The night-soil cart creaked away quietly from a corner, and the breakfast stalls by the street began setting up their stands. Soon, pedestrians slowly started to fill the streets.
(TN: night-soil cart - It refers to a cart used to collect and transport human waste (from chamber pots or outdoor latrines) before the invention of modern plumbing and sewage systems.)
The doors of Jihetang Pharmacy at the street corner had yet to open, but already a small crowd was waiting outside.
Most of these people were hunched over, skin and bones, with sallow complexions — looking like ghosts who had wasted away on opium. Yet in truth, not all opium smokers looked like that; at least before their family fortunes were completely ruined, they still wore decent clothes. Unlike these folks — their coarse linen garments were washed so often they'd turned white, their faces etched with hardship and sorrow.
Among them were a few exceptions — neatly dressed, tidy, and not showing much anxiety or gloom.
Shopkeeper Liu recognized most of them. They were servants or hired hands from nearby wealthy households, sent to buy medicine for their masters.
"Those newspapers out there talk about equality every day," Shopkeeper Liu muttered as he went over the items in a newly built medicine cabinet for the last time. "But if you ask me, people are never really equal. The only thing that's truly equal in this world is being born and dying, I suppose…"
The tall, thin assistant beside him swept the floor silently, listening.
Behind them, separated by a cloth curtain, today's on-duty physician had just arrived. Peering out, he said,
"Old Liu, you're running late today?"
"Half an hour late today," Shopkeeper Liu said as he closed the ledger. "These medicinal pills and powders are selling too fast — we can hardly keep up with the demand. This batch came in later than expected."
The resident physician replied, "These medicines are quite extraordinary. I bought some myself, but even after studying them, I still can't figure out their composition. They must be secret formulas. I can't imagine which family would sell off something like this — these are heirloom treasures! Your Jihetang must really be in luck; nothing can stop your good fortune. If those ready-made formulas hadn't also been sold to Peiyuantang, your shop would have the whole market to itself."
"Old Liu, if you ask me," the physician continued, "since Jihetang doesn't seem to care much about profit, and you're even willing to sell these medicines cheaply to poor folk — clearly, your goal is to save lives. In that case, why not just make the formulas public? Why insist on keeping them to yourselves?"
"Hypocrite, what a hypocrite!"
Shopkeeper Liu laughed heartily, though inwardly he sneered, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Even this occasional act of selling medicine at low prices — hardly a major transgression — had already drawn plenty of scrutiny, open criticism, and covert attacks. If he were truly to make the formulas public, who would actually benefit from it? Certainly not the starving commoners outside, skin and bones, who could barely afford to eat.
He wasn't a saint — not even close — but within his ability, if he could save one more life, and the right kind of person, then that was a good deed, one he was willing to do.
Moreover, no one knew that Jihetang, which had branches all over Haicheng, and Peiyuantang, scattered through the foreign concession, actually belonged to the same owner.
And the much-discussed pills and powders that had caused such a stir ever since they hit the market — they all came from the very same source.
If not for the apparent rivalry between Jihetang and Peiyuantang, the other pharmacies and factories would have jumped in long ago. For now, they were content to sit back and watch the tigers fight, waiting to reap the rewards as the fisherman.
But that surface calm could not last for long — from the start of the year to the end of summer, things were bound to come to a head soon enough.
Once everything was in order, the pharmacy doors finally opened. The people who had been waiting outside for half the morning could no longer hold back. The moment they saw the doors open, their eyes lit up, and they rushed in, not even bothering to go behind the curtain to see the doctor. They headed straight for the new medicine cabinet, calling out their orders as they came.
"Shopkeeper, three bottles of Fever-Relief Pills!"
"Me too! Shopkeeper, my child's burning up with a fever — I heard these pills can bring it down. Could I have some too?"
"Shopkeeper, do you have the Anti-Inflammatory Powder today? And that cough-and-consumption remedy as well…"
A crowd had already packed tightly around the new cabinet. Two assistants worked quickly, keeping everyone in line and maintaining order as best they could. Even so, Jihetang was still noisy and crowded. Only Shopkeeper Liu remained perfectly calm; no matter how loud it got, he continued to raise his voice steadily, asking each customer in turn what medicine they needed.
"Some medicines must be prescribed by the doctor — you can't just take them at will. Fever-Relief Pills you can buy, yes. We've got quite a few today — how many bottles do you want?"
"You'll need to take it for at least three doses before it takes effect. Don't be impatient. If it worked instantly, that wouldn't be medicine — that would be a miracle elixir!"
"You don't even know exactly what your illness is — I can't sell you anything. Go inside and see the doctor first."
One by one, he spoke with the customers. Gradually, the rows of bottles and packets on the new cabinet began to empty, yet the crowd inside Jihetang only grew larger. The line now stretched all the way out the door.
Shopkeeper Liu had been busy the whole morning; his throat was burning from talking. Catching a brief lull, he motioned for one of the assistants he trusted most to take over at the counter while he sat down for a short rest, sipping a cup of tea to soothe his throat.
After gulping down three bowls of tea in a row, Shopkeeper Liu was just about to close his eyes for a short nap when sudden commotion broke out outside.
"Make way! Everyone, make way!"
At the sound of two sharp shouts, the common folk near the doorway scattered like startled chicks before a hawk, shrinking back toward the walls in fright.
Moments later, three or five policemen strode inside. The man in front, speaking in the thick local Haicheng dialect, gave the shop a sweeping glance, his smile thin and cold.
"Shopkeeper Liu," he said, "business is booming, I see."
Shopkeeper Liu recognized the man — a section chief from the Security Bureau — and his heart sank. He quickly stood up, slipped a few banknotes from his sleeve, and discreetly handed them over as he said, "Chief Wang, what brings you here in person?"
"There's been trouble here, of course," Wang replied, tucking the money away with ease. "That's why I came — and you'll have to come with me too."
At his signal, two policemen stepped forward, seized Shopkeeper Liu by the arms, and prepared to drag him out.
Startled, Shopkeeper Liu exclaimed, "Chief Wang, wait! Jihetang hasn't had any problems lately, sir — what's going on?"
"No problems?" Wang narrowed his eyes, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "Are you saying I've made a mistake?"
Shopkeeper Liu broke out in a cold sweat. "I wouldn't dare…"
Chief Wang gave a derisive snort. "We handle our cases impartially — never arrest without reason. If we've come to take you in, there's a reason for it. Early this morning, the Haicheng Police Department received a report of a death — at the Cai residence on Baoping Street. Master Cai's third concubine is dead. After a thorough investigation, it turns out the cause was the fake medicine sold by your Jihetang."
Though Shopkeeper Liu had half-expected something like this to happen one day, hearing it aloud still made his teeth clench with fury. The accusation was so clumsy, so full of holes, it was practically an open frame-up.
He struggled to explain, "Chief Wang, Jihetang has built its reputation over many years — we would never sell counterfeit medicine, let alone something that could cost a life…"
Chief Wang raised his voice sharply, cutting off Shopkeeper Liu mid-sentence. "A perfectly healthy person took your medicine and died—and you're telling me it isn't fake?"
He cast a glance around the shop. Seeing the crowd inside and outside whispering among themselves, he gave a satisfied wave of his hand.
"Take the man and these fake drugs away. The shop will be sealed for now."
A round of kicking, smashing, and looting followed. After ransacking the place inside and out, the policemen dragged off Shopkeeper Liu and two assistants, leaving Jihetang in complete chaos and ruin.
Almost at the same time, Peiyuantang in the foreign concession was also raided and sealed—this time over the sudden death of an elderly gentleman long confined to his sickbed.
When Boss Meng received the news, he was at one of his trading houses, doing the accounts. At the report, he flung the ledger aside, jumped into his car, and rushed out. By the time he reached the private hospital near the edge of the Faguo Concession and found Yu Jingzhi, Meng Wangda was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath under the scorching midday sun.
(TN: 法国 (Faguo) — France)
"The rural clinics, and the ones outside Haicheng—they've had no reports, so they seem unaffected. But Jihetang and Peiyuantang have both been taken down… Sir, this move—it smells fishy."
He accepted a cup of tea from Lu Yun, thanked him, then said quietly to Yu Jingzhi, "It's one thing for the police in the Concession to act—half of them are under that old fox Du Tianming, sly as they come. But the Haicheng Police Department? You handed that territory over to the Jiuliu Society two years ago. Trouble shouldn't be coming from there."
"You mean to say…?"
The Jiuliu Society—as its name suggested—was a faction made up mostly of Haicheng's lower-class toughs and small-time operators. Years ago, they had some dealings with Yu Jingzhi; later, when Yu rose to power and took control of Haicheng, the Jiuliu Society had pledged allegiance to him, effectively becoming a subordinate force.
Yu Jingzhi sat in a chair in the hospital's rest room, flipping through the past two days' clinical records.
Two days earlier, Chu Yunsheng had walked out of that sealed laboratory and told him something that sounded like a dream in broad daylight. To verify whether that "dream" was real or not, Yu had brought Chu Yunsheng—and a small amount of the new drug—quietly to this private hospital, which had opened less than two months ago.
He had studied literature at university, not medicine, so much of the medical terminology was beyond him. But he could still understand enough of the clinical notes to see what mattered: the results in these carefully selected patients spoke for themselves. The antibiotic worked.
The foreigners' first antibiotic was called penicillin, discovered two years ago—a military-controlled substance so rare that even in Ouhua few could obtain it. As for Huaguo, people had only heard of it; no one had actually seen it. Even Yu Jingzhi, with all his influence and his past "honeymoon" dealings with the foreigners, had never managed to get hold of a single vial.
(TN: Ouhua (欧罗 / 欧华 / 欧陆) - Very common in CN fiction when the author wants a parallel world analogue to Europe without saying "Europe.")
(TN: "华国" (Huáguó) in this novel is a fictional stand-in for China, used by some authors to avoid direct historical naming or to create an alternate-history setting.)
Its renowned antibacterial and anti-inflammatory effects — the very power that had miraculously reduced death rates in countless households and on battlefields — had never found their way into Huaguo, not even a trace.
And now, it had finally appeared in Yu Jingzhi's hands — not from the foreigners, but from a Chinese.
Of course, Meng Wangda, who had come seeking Yu Jingzhi, knew nothing of this. He only knew Yu Jingzhi was here because this hospital had been established under Chu Yunsheng's name. Yu Jingzhi made no effort to hide his connection to it; in fact, for minor illnesses or injuries, he often came here himself instead of calling his private doctor.
Sometimes, keeping things out in the open was safer than hiding them in the shadows.
Listening to Meng Wangda speak, Yu Jingzhi said evenly, "The Jiuliu Society isn't exactly a solid block of iron."
Meng frowned.
Closing the book in his hand, Yu Jingzhi continued, "The Jiuliu Society follows me because the profits are good — friendship comes second. Now that someone else has offered them greater benefits, it's only natural that a few of them would turn. Of course, not many will. Still, it's a pity about the Jiuliu Society."
Meng Wangda hesitated. "Then what about Xue Hongniang and Nine-Eyed Zhang…?"
Xue Hongniang — a former courtesan turned manager of the Paramount Dance Hall — and Nine-Eyed Zhang, the unreliable antique dealer whose shop was open three days and closed for two, were the public faces of the Jiuliu Society's leadership.
From the side, Lu Yun said, "Xue Hongniang's been missing from the Paramount for a full day and night. Last anyone saw her, she was headed toward the Faguo Concession. There's been no word from Nine-Eyed Zhang."
Yu Jingzhi leaned back in his chair, smiled faintly, and said, "Nine-Eyed Zhang is a well-known king of thieves between Nanjing and Haicheng — he can slip through crowds or graveyards all the same. It's not unusual for him to disappear for a while. But after what's happened today, he won't be able to sit still. If he doesn't want the Jiuliu Society to fall apart, he'll come to us within the next couple of days."
Meng Wangda sighed. "We've been as discreet as we could with these Chinese patent medicines. But their effects are simply too remarkable — fevers that ordinary remedies can't break for days subside after just three doses of those pills; even tuberculosis can be treated, and the hemostatic powders are exceptional… With results like that, no amount of secrecy can hide it."
"We expected trouble sooner or later, but we didn't expect it would drag the Jiuliu Society down with it."
Yu Jingzhi shook his head. "It's not just the Jiuliu Society that's the problem."
Meng Wangda was startled. He looked at Yu Jingzhi, but seeing that Yu Jingzhi had no intention of elaborating, he ventured cautiously, "Sir, do you think… maybe we've been moving too fast? Drawing too much attention?"
As Yu Jingzhi's trusted aide, Meng Wangda was well aware of his master's various plans — not just those concerning Haicheng, but those reaching far beyond it.
And every one of those plans had been carried out with extreme care, step by step, cautious not to set off anything prematurely — not to ignite a fuse before the time was right, lest everything collapse in ruin.
But this matter with the Chinese patent medicines seemed… different.
Pressing his fingers to his temple, Yu Jingzhi's gaze drifted toward the window, where tall plane trees stood soaked in the scorching sunlight.
The cicadas droned endlessly; the heat refused to fade.
Facing the blinding glare, Yu Jingzhi narrowed his eyes slightly and let out a quiet laugh. "Tell me, what do you think is swimming in Haicheng's waters right now? Du Tianming and that Englishman, Mr.Pitt; my old employer, Adams, and the Haicheng government; the newly fractured Jiuliu Society; the so-called progressives over at the Eastern Daily; and countless other little ripples — including those who haven't yet stepped into the water."
"I have a feeling, that we don't have much time left. The waters of Haicheng are about to turn completely murky. Whether man or ghost, everyone will have to show themselves soon."
If Chu Yunsheng hadn't appeared, Yu Jingzhi wasn't sure how he would have faced such a situation.
But now — he had Chu Yunsheng.
Meng Wangda fell silent.
Yu Jingzhi said, "The matter with the Chinese patent medicine might not be Du Tianming's doing — more likely, it's that Pitt. If they can't get the formula, they won't let it go. But this is something that needs to be 'forced' into the open. I need the patent medicine to take the blow up front."
This whole affair, rather than being someone else's scheme behind the scenes, was more like Yu Jingzhi's counter-scheme.
When you discover that someone is wearing a disguise, after you struggle to tear that mask off, you instinctively believe that the face beneath it is their true one.
Yu Jingzhi needed precisely such a "true face" to stand before the antibiotics — something real to draw attention away from the real secret.
"Lu Yun will handle this," Yu Jingzhi said finally.
Meng Wangda seemed to understand the unspoken meaning behind Yu Jingzhi's words. His expression eased slightly, though a deeper weight still lingered. He gave a respectful acknowledgment, discussed a few other matters, and then rose to take his leave, heading downstairs.
When Chu Yunsheng came over from the isolated ward area, wearing a mask, he happened to run right into Meng Wangda in the first-floor corridor.
Meng Wangda had a sharp eye; even under the simple mask and white coat, he immediately recognized Chu Yunsheng. Grinning warmly, he greeted him, "Brother Tonggu, so you're here! Goodness, in this sweltering summer heat, how can you still wear that thing? Doesn't it feel stifling?"
It was stifling, of course.
The simple mask was something Chu Yunsheng had made himself out of two layers of coarse linen. In weather like this, it made even breathing a little difficult. But if he didn't wear it, with all kinds of epidemics spreading and disinfection practices far from adequate, it would hardly be sanitary.
After learning that Yu Jingzhi had set up this hospital, Chu Yunsheng personally established a set of regulations—ensuring cleanliness, sanitation, and proper disinfection measures—and even trained the doctors and nurses Yu Jingzhi had recruited.
Among them, Dr. Chao Shimin, one of Yu Jingzhi's close friends, took a keen interest in these procedures. He studied the principles behind the protective measures and also brought Chu Yunsheng several contemporary books on bacteria and viruses, often engaging him in discussions.
"Boss Meng," Chu Yunsheng greeted with a polite nod.
Meng Wangda, unaware that the traditional Chinese medicines had been developed by Chu Yunsheng himself, didn't bring up anything about Jihetang. He simply smiled and said, "That's right—just business matters."
Chu Yunsheng didn't pry further, chatting with Meng Wangda only briefly.
Although he had barely set foot outside in recent months, Yu Jingzhi often told him about what was happening in the world beyond, bringing newspapers and news to him. So Chu Yunsheng wasn't exactly cut off from the world—he had a fair idea of what Yu Jingzhi had been doing.
After only a few exchanges, a nurse called for Dr. Chu from the other side of the hall, and the two men parted ways without further conversation.
As Chu Yunsheng went upstairs to the second floor and Boss Meng hurriedly left through the hospital doors, neither of them noticed that in the crowded outpatient waiting area downstairs, a young man dressed like a student was staring intently at the staircase leading upward, a puzzled look on his face.
"Dr. Chu… Chu Tonggu… why does that sound familiar?"
"Could it be…?"