Master Xu Mingtang

An ancient, elegant building appeared before her eyes. It was old, like most of the structures in the alley—a place that had clearly weathered many years. Above the ground-floor entrance hung an imposing signboard: a brown background with dark red characters spelling out "Shengshi Hall" in bold, upright script, radiating a sense of righteousness.

"These words were written by my great-grandfather," Xu Mingtang explained. "Back in his day, he was the best traditional doctor in Yicheng—renowned for both his skill and his virtue. People loved and respected him. Come on in."

They ascended two steps and entered the clinic. The wall directly ahead was covered with silk banners, and above them hung a plaque inscribed: "A Healer’s Compassion." The first-floor hall was rectangular. To the left of the entrance was the pharmacy; behind the counter, an entire wall was filled with drawers labeled with the names of herbal medicines, while beneath the counter were shelves of Western medicine.

On the right stood three desks in a row, each with a doctor's nameplate on top. Straight ahead were several rows of long benches—the waiting area for patients—and nearby, a treatment room.

Pointing at one of the desks, Xu Mingtang said, "Tomorrow, I’ll add a stool next to my desk for you. You can start by following me and learning to take pulses."

"Thank you, Master."

"Don’t thank me just yet. Try not to cry when the time comes."

"Why would I cry?"

"When patients don’t trust you, you’ll have to hold back your tears," Xu Mingtang said with a smile, then pointed upward. "Come on, let’s go upstairs. That's where your Master’s wife and I live, and you’ll be staying here too. Your room is already prepared."

Upstairs was the living room, furnished with a sofa, coffee table, and television. A large dining table stood to the side, with two steaming dishes set atop it.

"Master’s wife is in the kitchen," Xu Mingtang said, gesturing toward the left door. "We live in that room. The one next to it used to be Xu Bin’s before we turned it into a storeroom for medicinal herbs. Your room is through the door on the right."

Just as he finished speaking, two middle-aged women emerged from the kitchen. Xu Mingtang pointed to the taller one. "This is your Master’s wife," he said, then to the shorter one, "and this is Xu Bin’s aunt." Tang Yiyi bowed respectfully to both and greeted them.

Aunt Xu Mingjie was clearly warmer than Master’s wife; she took Tang Yiyi’s hand and showered her with praise. Only when Xu Mingtang warned, "Careful, or the food will burn," did she give a start, pat her head, and hurry back to the kitchen.

The door on the right side of the living room opened onto a small balcony lined with flowers and greenery along the wall. At the far end, an iron staircase led up to another platform, where a built room took up half the available space.

"This used to be the rooftop terrace," Xu Mingtang explained. "Xu Bin had this room built—said it was made with straw, lightweight, fireproof, and warm in winter, cool in summer. Don’t worry, it has its own bathroom." Tang Yiyi curiously scraped at the wall with her fingernail—the straw was packed so tightly it felt solid.

"Is it really fireproof?" she asked.

"It won’t burn; Xu Bin tested it himself."

As Tang Yiyi entered, she found the room’s decor quite distinctive. "This must have been Xu Bin’s room, right?"

"How did you know?"

"It just feels like him."

"Really? You can tell that just by looking?" Xu Mingtang shook his head, not quite understanding. Then he added, "The bedding is all clean, but if you don’t like it, you can buy your own. You’re here for your internship; don’t worry, I’ll pay you a salary."

"I don’t mind—I like it a lot."

"Glad you do. I never know what young ladies like these days. Since Professor Huang recommended you, I can’t let you be mistreated. Otherwise that old fellow would barge in himself."

"Don’t worry, Master. If Professor Huang ever threw a punch, it wouldn’t hurt—he just likes to wave his fists around and put on a show."

"Heh, I’m not afraid of him. Go wash up and come down for dinner," Xu Mingtang said, leaving the room and heading downstairs.

Tang Yiyi carefully surveyed her room. It was square, about thirteen square meters, with tea-brown patterned floor tiles. A single bed, a meter and a half wide, sat against the right wall, covered with gray bedding.

Opposite the door, in front of the window, stood a large wooden table, its surface like a slice cut straight from the heart of an old tree—unfinished but smoothly polished, supported by four thick legs. Three wooden stools stood beside it, surely meant for sitting.

The left wall was taken up entirely by a bookshelf, filled with volumes such as The Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor, The Golden Mirror of Medicine, The Essential Prescriptions of the Golden Casket, Treatise on Cold Damage Diseases, and Compendium of Materia Medica, along with a few ornaments.

There was no wardrobe; instead, a beanbag chair in vibrant orange was piled beside the bed, and on the other side stood a rack resembling uneven parallel bars. Tang Yiyi touched it and thought, "This must be for hanging clothes."

She opened her suitcase, took out her toiletries, and went to wash up in the bathroom. After a quick wash, she hurriedly left the room and descended the iron staircase.