Chapter Twenty-Three: The Magistrate

The man glanced at his father. Although Lady Wen did not seem like a layperson, the fact remained that his father had not woken up yet, and so he could not help but feel anxious.

“There’s no need to worry. Within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he will surely wake,” Lin Bai said to the man.

Only then did the man relax. He thanked Lin Bai and the young lady profusely, declaring, “Divine Physician Lin, young miss, I will never forget the great kindness you have shown me. If ever you need anything from me in the future, please do not hesitate to ask.”

He then pulled out a handful of copper coins to pay for the consultation, but Lin Bai only took ten coins from the lot.

“Brother, is there a blacksmith in town?” Wen Qiniang asked the man.

“Just call me Wang Dajiang. As it happens, I am the blacksmith here,” the man replied with some pride. He had felt uneasy that Lin Bai took so little money, but now, hearing Wen Qiniang’s request, he realized his skills might be of use.

Wen Qiniang’s eyes lit up with delight. “There are a few items I would like to ask you to forge for me, if possible.”

Wang Dajiang thumped his chest. “Say no more, miss. There’s nothing in this world I can’t forge. Are you looking for kitchenware, or farming tools?”

Wen Qiniang fell silent. She certainly couldn’t say she wanted a set of knives for dissecting human bodies—Wang Dajiang would probably run for his life. Earlier, when she treated the old man’s wound, she found the knife terribly unwieldy. Her old set of surgical tools had served her much better, but now, no matter the price, she couldn’t get her hands on such things. She could only hope to have a set made herself.

“Is it... something very difficult to forge?” Wang Dajiang asked, seeing her hesitation.

Wen Qiniang took out paper and brush and began to draw with careful attention. Tianya watched curiously as she sketched a dozen or so items, some of which he recognized—short blades, cups, spoons. Oddly, the cup had marks of varying lengths and some numbers written beside them.

“Junior sister, aren’t these just eating utensils?” Tianya stroked his chin.

Indeed, they are for “eating,” Wen Qiniang thought to herself.

“Do you think you can make these?” she handed the drawing to Wang Dajiang.

He studied it for a long while before replying, “I can’t promise they’ll be exactly the same, but I will do my utmost to follow your design.”

Wen Qiniang nodded; that would suffice. She asked, “Shall I pay a deposit first?”

Wang Dajiang quickly replied, “You are my father’s savior, and thus mine as well. Besides, I’m not yet sure I can make them. If I manage it, you can simply pay for the cost of the materials.”

Seeing his resolute face, Wen Qiniang knew he would not accept payment in advance. She decided she would pay him altogether when she came to collect the goods.

“Jiang’er...”

The old man slowly came to. Wang Dajiang hurried over to him.

As that pair of father and son departed, Wen Qiniang’s lips curved in a faint smile. Wang Dajiang was truly a filial son.

“Have you finished decocting those medicines?” Lin Bai asked Tianya, who was still lost in thought, propping his chin on his hand.

“Oh no, I completely forgot!” At that moment, Tianya caught a whiff of something burning and dashed off with a start, lamenting inwardly that he would have to start over again.

Watching Tianya hop about like a monkey, Wen Qiniang couldn’t help but laugh softly. Her silly senior brother always managed to make her break composure so easily. Lin Bai, on the other hand, seemed used to it—his face remained utterly expressionless. Truly a stoic man, Wen Qiniang thought with a hint of exasperation.

Suddenly, Lin Bai fixed his gaze on her, frowning as if deep in thought.

Wen Qiniang felt a chill under his scrutiny. Had she made some mistake just now?

“Have you studied medicine before?” Lin Bai asked abruptly, his eyes penetrating.

Wen Qiniang paused, then replied after a moment’s thought, “Master, have you ever heard of the art of soul transference?”

Lin Bai was startled—the scroll in his hand slipped to the floor. After his initial shock, his expression slowly relaxed. That explanation alone could resolve the doubts in his mind. Otherwise, how could a young lady who had never left her family perform such extraordinary acts? He had never heard Wen Qiran mention that his daughter had any medical training, yet her handling of the old man’s wound was astonishingly skilled—her knife traced perfectly along the bone without so much as scratching it. Such proficiency was impossible without years of experience.

Seeing Lin Bai’s expression return to normal, Wen Qiniang let out a deep breath. The decision she had made was a risky one, but she knew she could not hide forever; deception was never her strong suit. Lying was exhausting—one lie required countless more to sustain it. She was gambling that Lin Bai was no ordinary man, and perhaps he would accept the truth.

“I do not belong to this country,” she said, looking into the distance. “By chance, my soul was transferred into ‘Wen Qiniang.’ I am no shaman, nor do I mean harm. My previous profession was similar to that of a coroner. After I was killed, my soul somehow drifted here. If there is even the slightest chance, I would be willing to return to my homeland.” She sighed softly. Even if she did return, she would not know how to resolve matters with Wang Lin. Perhaps it was better not to go back—her body was likely long since destroyed.

“Who you truly are is none of my concern. So long as you are Wen Qiniang, that is enough,” Lin Bai replied indifferently. The world was vast and full of mysteries. He had little connection to Wen Qiniang, and in a few days, he would return to his residence in the western hills. They would likely have little contact in the future.

Wen Qiniang breathed a sigh of relief. She did not expect Lin Bai to understand the concept of transmigration—so long as he kept her secret, she would be content. She trusted that he would.

Returning from Lin Bai’s quarters to the other residence, Wen Qiniang nearly bumped into someone at the corner. Looking up, she recognized the county’s newly appointed magistrate, whom she had seen just yesterday. At his side stood a young woman—none other than Wen Wuniang.

“I am Su Mu. And this young lady is?” The man’s eyes brightened as he twirled his folding fan, smiling.

“This is my seventh sister,” Wen Wuniang replied with a radiant smile, then turned to Wen Qiniang. “This is the new Magistrate Su. Hurry and pay your respects.”

Wen Qiniang lowered her gaze demurely. “Qiniang greets Magistrate Su. Forgive me if I have offended you.”

A flash of disappointment crossed Su Mu’s eyes. At first sight, he thought Wen Qiniang was different from Wen Wuniang—her earlier sharp glance was strikingly alluring—but it lasted only a moment. Now, she seemed as timid as a startled bird, no different from Wen Wuniang: all surface, with no substance. He exchanged a few perfunctory pleasantries and then left, his interest quickly fading.

Wen Qiniang raised her head, her expression returning to normal. She noticed Wen Wuniang’s gaze following Su Mu with undisguised longing and shook her head. Su Mu was the very image of a libertine—he might as well have the word “lecherous” written across his face. Such men were the ones she despised most in life.

“Magistrate Su is already a county official at such a young age. They say he has connections at court, and this position is only a stepping stone. Soon, he’ll be promoted and have a bright future ahead of him,” Wen Wuniang said excitedly, as if she already considered herself the magistrate’s wife and destined to be honored by the emperor himself.

Wen Qiniang was speechless. Did all women in this world dream only of marrying well and soaring like a phoenix?