If they went back, they might never be found again. They looked stronger than city folk on the outside, but years of hard farming work and insufficient nutrition meant they still suffered from sub-health. Moreover, their lives were tough—crops were their only income, and transportation was inconvenient. For minor illnesses, they would pick herbs from the mountains and brew them. If they got better, good; if not, they just dragged on. They hoped to recover on their own. Those with strong bodies could shake off minor ailments. But those with weaker constitutions saw small illnesses turn into serious ones. Now that Chu Lingzhi had appeared, they naturally wouldn’t miss this opportunity. Chu Lingzhi had lived here as a child and understood their lives well. Seeing them come to her for treatment, her heart suddenly ached. Looking at them, she thought of her grandfather. Chu Jinian had always been kind to others. Even when they had no money, he would still treat them and give them medicine. Whatever he could spare, he gave to the villagers. When young people fell ill, they would go up the mountain to see him. For the elderly who couldn’t make the climb, he would come down to their homes to diagnose them. Now that he was gone, the sick villagers suffered. Chu Lingzhi didn’t refuse. Huo Luan brought out a table and chair. She sat in front and began treating the villagers lined up. The elderly mostly suffered from rheumatism. The village was surrounded by high mountains, damp all spring, and they worked in the fields year-round without keeping warm in the cold. Women were often weak from overwork, exposed to the scorching sun in summer. They didn’t consume blood-nourishing foods, and in intimate matters, hygiene was neglected, leading to gynecological issues from physical weakness. Chu Lingzhi examined them, asked about their symptoms, and prescribed medicine with focused seriousness, treating each patient with care. Nangong Yehen and Chu Junyu didn’t dare disturb her. Huo Luan wrote down the prescriptions beside her. To avoid disrupting her, Chu Junyu and Nangong Yehen stood far away. “I have a kind and beautiful mommy,” Chu Junyu said proudly, seeing Chu Lingzhi like this. “I also have a kind and beautiful mommy,” Nangong Yichen added without missing a beat. After about two seconds of silence from Nangong Yehen, they both looked up at him with displeasure. Chu Junyu asked, “Daddy, why don’t you say, ‘I have a kind and beautiful wife’?” Nangong Yichen said, “Or you could say, ‘I have a passionate and lovely wife.’” “Little old man, you’re becoming more and more like me,” Chu Junyu said, throwing a wink at Nangong Yichen. “We’re already alike.” Chu Junyu lifted his chin: “That’s all thanks to our mommy!” Nangong Yehen raised an eyebrow. Why were they giving all the credit to Chu Lingzhi? He had contributed too, hadn’t he? All day, Chu Lingzhi treated the villagers. Some medicines the villagers couldn’t buy, so Huo Luan drove to a nearby town to get them. Three days passed, and those who took Chu Lingzhi’s medicine showed improvement. In the villagers’ eyes, Chu Lingzhi was hailed as a miracle doctor. Fu Chunyan’s home had never been so lively. Every day, people came to see Chu Lingzhi for consultations and follow-ups. Fortunately, their illnesses weren’t severe, and the right medicine brought quick recovery. Each day, as villagers lined up in Fu Chunyan’s yard for Chu Lingzhi’s treatment, an old man would silently watch from a low tile-roofed house not far away. His clouded eyes and frail figure gave off a deep sense of desolation and loneliness.