Unfated Tian

November 21st. Raining. Clinic closed. November 22nd. Didn't open yesterday, so won't open today either. November 23rd. Opened. Treated three patients. November 24th. Opened yesterday, so not opening today. ...... The record book of the Evercare Clinic was full of entries like these. Unfated Tian felt no shame about it. In fact, he took pride in the habit. He even claimed to have over a dozen volumes just like it. In earlier years, the excuses had been things like: "Doudou is sick," "Yaoyao is sick," "Doudou is crying"... "What a shame!" Unfated Tian sighed dramatically, slouching sideways in his chair. It's such a shame those two disciples are all grown up now. As their master, he had no choice but to come up with new excuses.

There was once an elderly woman brought to the Evercare Clinic. Her children had long since moved to Kaifeng, and when illness struck, there was no one left to care for her. The villagers, helpless and unsure of what else to do, brought her to the clinic. When she saw Doudou—the boy who delivered her medicine—she smiled and pressed a handful of sweet candies into his palm. He reminded her of her grandson. No one knew why, but from that day on, Doudou visited her every day. He would sit by her side, chat with her, and make her laugh. When Yaoyao asked him why, Doudou simply replied, "She's kind. Maybe... maybe she's someone I lost—a relative, maybe." Yaoyao knew the truth: Doudou had no family. He was an orphan, taken in by Unfated Tian. But Unfated Tian had made it clear—never say that in front of the boy. So Yaoyao simply sighed and let it go. Doudou believed that Unfated Tian could cure anyone. He was the greatest healer in the world, and surely he could make the elderly woman well again. But only a month later, she passed away. Unfated Tian found Doudou sitting alone by the pond, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. Unfated Tian sat beside him and spoke gently, "Birth, aging, illness, and death... they're all part of life's path." But Doudou didn't understand. If death came no matter what, then what was the point of being a healer? Unfated Tian didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small paper-wrapped bundle—candies. "She knew her time was short," Unfated Tian said, "But you made her laugh. You made her less afraid. These were her way of saying thank you."Doudou took the bundle in his small hands, and for the first time since she'd gone, he cried.

Evercare Clinic is quiet, and Unfated Tian enjoys the rare peace. He lies sprawled on a narrow bed, putting the ledger over his face and mentally calculates how much money he's made this month. Suddenly, the ledger is abruptly snatched. He sits up, annoyed. "Hey..." Then he sees who it is: Han Xiangxun. He turns his back to her and mumbles, "No patients today. I'm going back to sleep." "Get up. I need a bottle of Priceless Antidote." Her tone is chipper, and his eyes light up. Business is business, and gold is gold. He flips over with renewed energy, already shaping a smile to thank his generous patron. But then a thought strikes him. There has never been any serious illness at Heaven's Pier that would call for this medicine. And she, stingy as ever, wouldn't be here unless it were for someone else. It has to be for him. Realizing that, the doctor drops his usual teasing. He turns to his desk and begins preparing the medicine in silence. Still, curiosity gets the better of him. As he grinds the herbs, he asks, "Is this for that swordsman again? That Hero Chu?" "That fool throws himself into danger without a second thought. I'm just preparing this in case he winds up half-dead again. Someone's got to clean up his mess." Unfated Tian clicks his tongue and mutters, "Fool? Who's really the fool here?" Han Xiangxun shoots him a sharp look. "Alright, alright. I'm the fool. Only a fool would drag himself out of bed at such a good time to make medicine for someone else's 'fool'." He pouts, voice soft and petulant. Han Xiangxun turns away, saying nothing more. Silence settles over the clinic once again, broken only by the steady rhythm of herbs being ground beneath stone.