44. Your Safety

The next day dawned with heavy rain, the downpour relentless from early morning. Tang Yiyi donned her raincoat, pulled the hood tight, and opened her umbrella, undeterred by wind or weather, heading out for her morning run.

The Magnolia Lane in the rain was tranquil and serene, its freshness tinged with a languid calm. The rain had knocked a number of flower petals from the trees, scattering them across the ground.

Returning from her run, Tang Yiyi stood beneath a tree, gazing regretfully at the petals strewn with droplets. Xu Bin, umbrella in hand, approached and teased, “What are you doing? Burying flowers?”

Tang Yiyi noticed he was holding a woman’s umbrella, looking blissful, so she deliberately lowered her voice and said, “Oh no, Xiao Bin, yesterday when I got back, Xiao Xie stopped me to say your band is amazing—you passed the audition!”

Xu Bin’s expression darkened instantly. “Damn, what should I do? My dad’s bound to find out today.” With that, he turned and ran off, umbrella bouncing, only to be followed by Tang Yiyi’s mocking laughter.

He stopped, gritted his teeth, and turned to point at her, “You, your courage’s getting bigger, huh? Daring to mess with me now?”

“You dare to scold me? If you do, I’ll tell Master!” Tang Yiyi retorted, then skipped back to the clinic.

After the busy morning consultations, during lunch, Zuo Chengjiang said to Xu Mingtang, “The price of this batch of medicinal herbs has gone up again.”

“Up again?”

“Not only are the prices higher, but the quality has dropped. It’s filthy, full of impurities, even cockroach droppings.”

“Has that pharmaceutical factory fallen into such chaos?” Xu Mingtang frowned.

“Is it a management issue?” Tang Yiyi asked.

Zuo Chengjiang shook his head, “No, their management is actually quite good.”

“How can things still be this way?”

“They’re obsessed with profit. All the best raw materials are used for extracts and exported. Apparently, their export volume for the past few months already matches last year’s total.”

“So all the poor-quality herbs are left for us?”

“Not just us. The entire Chinese medicine industry faces this problem; it starts with the herbs.” Zuo Chengjiang shook his head repeatedly.

Xu Mingtang said gravely, “Medicine and doctor are inseparable. Even the best physician is powerless without quality herbs; the prescription is worthless.”

“Isn’t there any other way?” Tang Yiyi asked. “Can’t we change suppliers? Or go directly to the herbal market and pick them ourselves, deal directly with farmers?”

“That’s possible, but it’s much more trouble than buying straight from the factory. Many herbs would need to be processed ourselves, and we might not keep up with demand.”

Xu Mingtang smiled at Tang Yiyi, “When I was young, almost all the herbs were chosen by my father and me, and processed by hand. From seven or eight years old, until seventeen or eighteen when I could prescribe independently—a ten-year apprenticeship. Back then, treating a child’s fever or cough, two doses of a five-herb prescription would always work. Now, I can’t guarantee it; it’s the herbs. Do you know how to process loquat leaves?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You know you need leaves picked last year, right? And the fuzz on the back must be brushed clean with a bristle brush, and then dried?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“But now, the loquat leaves collected include new leaves, old leaves, even rotten ones picked from the ground. These past two years, our shop’s loquat leaves are all ordered in advance from honest farmers who have trees, instructing them on picking and drying. They know I use them for medicine and don’t dare mess around. But sourcing good herbs is a real challenge now.”

Zuo Chengjiang said, “If it gets too bad, we’ll go to the herbal market ourselves and select herbs. As for processing, if our shop’s demand increases, we can hire another young doctor.”

“First, check which herbs are essential right now, make a list, contact several factories, ask colleagues for recommendations. Those unavailable from factories, let Xiao Bin source at the herbal market. He needs this experience for his herbalist qualification.”

“Alright, I’ll make the list this afternoon.”

Downstairs at the counter, Xu Bin sneezed, “Someone must be thinking about me,” he muttered, rubbing his nose.

Today was acupuncture day for Mrs. Qin. After lunch, Qin Baike came to pick up Tang Yiyi and handed her a pillow for napping, “It’s been washed,” he said.

The rain had not ceased, and the post-rain chill lingered. As she unwrapped the pillow, the comfort of sun-dried fabric rushed out. She covered herself with the towel blanket, recalling Mrs. Fan’s words: Baike always pays such careful attention.

Qin Baike drove in silence, while Tang Yiyi closed her eyes, swaying gently against the seat and soon drifting into sleep.

In her dream, her grandmother came to visit. She joyfully cooked for her, but midway remembered that her grandmother had passed away, and collapsed by the stove, sobbing uncontrollably. Somehow, Qin Baike appeared, patting her back and soothing her, “Don’t cry, I’ll take you out to play.” Then she heard Wentao singing, his voice stuck in his throat, unable to come out; he switched to beatboxing, mimicking the rain’s sound.

She woke suddenly—the rain outside was louder than in her dream. She sat up, hearing a faint old song from the car speakers. She rubbed her throat, coughed twice, and turned up the volume, finally feeling at ease.

Qin Baike asked, “What did you dream about?”

“Did I talk in my sleep?”

“You were crying.”

Tang Yiyi touched her face, no tears.

“Your expression was crying.”

Tang Yiyi said sadly, “I dreamed of my grandmother. She passed when I was twelve. In the dream, she came to see me—it felt real. I cooked for her, then suddenly remembered she was gone, and couldn’t help crying. Isn’t it strange? I told myself in the dream, ‘Oh, I’m dreaming.’”

“You entered a second layer of dreaming—Inception. Have you seen it?”

“So dreams really have layers.”

“Just a short nap and you dream.”

“I always dream when I sleep, no matter how long. I even dreamed about you just now.”

“Me? What was I doing?”

“You told me, ‘Don’t cry, I’ll take you out to play.’”

Qin Baike’s mouth twitched.

At the Green Plant Villa, after Wu Jie’s chatter, Tang Yiyi finished Mrs. Qin’s acupuncture. Qin Baike said the rain made driving slow, so they set off early. The car played a cover of a Jay Chou song, and their conversation drifted.

Tang Yiyi asked, “Baike, why haven’t you found a girlfriend yet?”

“I’m looking.”

“Any luck?”

“No.”

“Do you turn down all the introductions?”

“Some turn me down too.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“Ask what?”

“Ask why they don’t want to?”

“No.”

“So you’ve liked someone? How did you pursue her? Did you just ask her out or send flowers?”

“Neither.”

“Did you do anything touching?”

“No.”

“If you didn’t do anything, how do you know they don’t want to date you?”

“I assume they’re unwilling.”

Tang Yiyi was exasperated by his self-assurance and shook her head, “Baike, you’re hopeless. This won’t work. If you like someone, you need to act. Next time, let me help you plan—I’ll make sure you win her heart.”

“You have time?”

“No matter how busy, I’ll help with your life’s biggest matter, don’t worry.”

Just then, a dog darted in front of the car. Tang Yiyi screamed and covered her eyes. Qin Baike braked, cautious not to slam on the slippery road, tapping the brakes and steering aside, scraping the guardrail.

When the car stopped, he turned to see Tang Yiyi trembling, hands over her eyes. He gripped her wrist, “It’s all right, don’t be afraid.”

Tang Yiyi lowered her hands, “Did the dog die?”

“No, I missed it.” The strength of his grip calmed her. “That was scary,” she said.

He held her hands in his, his gaze steady, “I knew what to do, trust me, don’t be afraid.” Under his gaze, Tang Yiyi finally nodded in relief.

They got out; the dog was nearby, watching, its belly sagging—it was a nursing mother.

The car’s right side was deformed and the paint scraped, but nothing serious.

“If I’d hit the dog, the car wouldn’t be damaged,” she said.

He glanced at the dog, “Forget it—a life matters. The car can be repaired. Let’s go.”

Back in the car, she asked, “Baike, if not hitting the dog meant we’d flip the car, would you have hit it?”

He was silent, then said, “In that moment, you act on instinct. But you can trust me—I’d always put your safety first. I’d never let you get hurt.”

He didn’t even realize he was once again wanting to protect a woman.

Tang Yiyi gazed at him, suddenly feeling the same security she only felt with her father, certain she could be vulnerable with this man, knowing he’d endlessly accept her. Her heart leapt.

Back in town, Qin Baike drove straight to the repair shop, then took a taxi with Tang Yiyi back to Magnolia Lane.

Xu Bin and Zuo Chengjiang had sorted the herbal inventory and made a list. Xu Bin would go to the provincial herbal market to investigate the supply, and Tang Yiyi would fill in at the pharmacy when needed. Xu Mingtang said that medicine and doctor are inseparable—a good physician must know the quality of herbs.

After dinner, Xu Mingtang gave Xu Bin many instructions, especially to watch for reused residue from extracts being sold again. He was also told to visit Tang Yiyi’s teacher, Professor Huang, who would introduce him to an elder who’d spent a lifetime healing with herbs.

When Xu Bin left, Tang Yiyi saw him off. “The audition passed quietly—such luck.”

Xu Bin smiled, “It was our strategy.”

Tang Yiyi rolled her eyes, “With you gone, rehearsal for the new song is postponed?”

“I’ll be gone seven or eight days. Xiao Xiao wants to finish her song.”

Tang Yiyi asked cautiously, “Is Xiao Xiao’s heart not well?”

“Yes, her doctor told her to avoid strenuous activity—just arrhythmia, premature beats. I told her not to worry. She’s confirming the acupressure points you taught.”

“It’s a daily regimen Professor Huang gave a heart patient—simple and effective. Tell her to do it daily.”

“She doesn’t need reminders; she does it well.”

“The study materials and workbooks I bought for you online, you’re bringing them? You need to find time to study, or you’ll have to wait till next year to pass.”

“You reminded me—I’d forgotten, they’re at the counter. I’ll get them.”

Xu Bin dashed back to the clinic, flipping through a book as he came out, waving it at Tang Yiyi, “Nine volumes! When will I finish?” He tucked the books under his arm and headed for the car, then turned, “Yiyi, do you really recite formulas during your morning runs?”

“Really, it works—bit by bit adds up.”

Xu Bin paused, then gave her a thumbs up, “Yiyi, maybe I should call you Senior Sister.”

“I’ll be your junior, but I can teach you efficient study methods. I’ll send them tonight.”

“Good, Yiyi! With your methods, I have to pass.”

Watching Xu Bin leave, Tang Yiyi returned to her room to compare formulas. After finishing her study, she jumped up to do a set of stretches. She’d eaten two extra pieces of braised pork at dinner, but wasn’t hungry.

She picked up her phone, edited her effective study methods, and sent them to Xu Bin, then began scrolling through her social feed.

Wang Yufeng had blocked her, likely to keep his new romance out of her sight. She hesitated over whether to block him from her posts, then decided not to; her life was cheerful enough, and letting him see it was fine.

Liu Xin posted links to vote for Qin’s Noodle Shop several times a day—each person could vote five times daily. Tang Yiyi clicked in and cast her votes, seeing the shop had slipped to 22nd place, 11 votes behind the leader, 78 ahead of the next.

Liu Xin’s introduction of Qin’s Noodle Shop was beautifully crafted, with pictures, hand-drawn sketches, and fresh, stylish prose—a hint of Japanese flair, conveying warmth and satisfaction brought by the food.

Perhaps this promotional style only appealed to a niche group—students like him or those pursuing a refined lifestyle.

She shared Liu Xin’s introduction and the voting link, asking friends to help with a vote and repost.

Soon, comments flowed in, and the shop’s rank climbed back to 21st. She thought, if she told Qin Baike about sharing, he’d shake his head and say, “They’ve never tasted my noodles, but for your sake, what’s the point of this voting?” She could easily picture his impassive, calm expression.

Never mind him, Tang Yiyi thought; I’ll do as I please—it’s not wrong.

With Xu Bin gone, the bamboo-carved pig on the pharmacy counter was soon weighed down by stacks of prescriptions. Zuo Chengjiang had to price and dispense herbs alone, so Tang Yiyi naturally stepped in to help.

But she wasn’t good at pricing, nor familiar with the herb locations. She asked, memorized, and grabbed herbs, her hands unsure, often needing several tries to measure the correct amount.

Zuo Chengjiang kept saying, “No worries, take your time, don’t rush.”

She could only do her best, so long as she made no mistakes. Fortunately, when Zuo Chengjiang checked each batch, he found no errors.

The morning flew by in chaos, and only at 12:40 did she finish the prescriptions. She immediately grabbed a sheet of paper, drew grids, and copied down the herb names in sequence.

After lunch, she took the paper to the counter to memorize. Her unique methods made memorization easy, and when she dispensed herbs in the afternoon, she was much more familiar.

That evening, she drilled herself several times, using the scale to compare the feel of different herbs and weights in her hand, gradually gaining confidence.

By 10:30, exhausted and starving, she went straight to Qin’s Noodle Shop and slumped onto a table. Qin Baike came over, “Rough day?”

“Xiao Bin’s on a trip.”

“I know. You must be worn out.”

“Not familiar yet, a bit flustered. The clinic’s busy, so tomorrow I can only go to your mother’s after work.”

“No worries. Have dinner late, do acupuncture, you’ll be back by eight. It’s just overtime for you. Or, you could take a break for a few days.”

“It can’t stop till ten sessions, when the effect plateaus. Pausing during treatment affects the results.”

Seeing Tang Yiyi so limp, Qin Baike nodded, “I’ll cook you some noodles. Wait here.”

“Hurry, I’m about to faint from hunger.”

Qin Baike went to cook. Liu Xin brought in takeout, and Tang Yiyi called out, “Liu Xin, your noodle shop intro is awesome!”

Liu Xin smiled shyly, scratching his head, “I wanted to add some gravitas and Baike’s charisma, but he wouldn’t let me.”

“Including Baike? The style would totally change!”

“Yeah, it’d be less fresh, more manly, more testosterone.”

“I’d love to see the manly style—Baike should cooperate!”

Xiao Xie came over, wiping her hands, “Forget it, impossible.”

“Too bad,” Tang Yiyi said, glancing at Baike’s upright figure in the kitchen, smacking her lips. “But Liu Xin, your intro is truly excellent. You should be an editor for a website. You’re not much of a talker, teaching doesn’t suit you.”

“Hmm, I’ll see what comes up.”

“Go for it! Senior year, no classes—you should be interning everywhere.”

“Yeah.”

Qin Baike brought over the noodles, overhearing, and said to Liu Xin, “Yiyi’s right, you should look seriously.”

Liu Xin glanced at Baike and nodded.

Tang Yiyi devoured the noodles, not leaving a drop of soup. She put down her chopsticks, “Baike, you ought to be in the top ten.”

“That’s right,” Xiao Xie said, “Boss is the best.”

“Baike, let Liu Xin do a charisma promo for you.”

“Yeah,” Xiao Xie agreed, “I’d love to see it.”

“Don’t count on it.” Qin Baike walked off, expression cold.

Xiao Xie shrugged at his retreating figure, “Told you so.”

Tang Yiyi and Liu Xin shook their heads, took out their phones, and cast their votes. Still 21st place.