Chapter 90: Zhou Fuqu’s Suitor

Zhou Luyang paused in surprise and turned to look at the old master’s expression, only to find that the previously smiling elder’s face had darkened considerably. Master Zhou grunted, and Second Master Zhou hurriedly took up a wine cup and pressed it into Luyang’s hand.

Seeing that the old master was genuinely angry, Zhou Luyang panicked and had no choice but to tilt his head back and drain the cup in one go.

Lu Feng also picked up his cup, smiling as he addressed the old master, “Allow me to offer you a toast as well, sir, wishing you robust health.”

At this, the old master immediately donned a genial expression, raised his cup, and clinked it against Lu Feng’s before they both drank.

Once the formal toasts were over, the atmosphere relaxed, and the meal lost its earlier severity.

Du Zhitong ran behind the old master, wrapped her arms around his neck, and bounced as she exclaimed, “Grandpa, when you were ill, Mama wouldn’t let me come see you. Actually, I missed you the most!”

The old master patted her hands and replied, “Grandpa knows, Zhitong is the most filial. It was I who worried about passing my illness on to you children, so I forbade any of you young ones from visiting.”

Because the old master’s illness was peculiar, he had forbidden his underage grandchildren from visiting, fearing it might be contagious.

Seeing that his father and Lu Feng had finished eating, Zhou Zhengqian reached out to pat Du Zhitong’s back, saying, “Zhitong, you’re growing taller by the day—almost a young lady now. Your grandpa is tired; go play with your cousins.”

“What’s so fun about that?” Du Zhitong replied, her face full of reluctance.

“Go on now. Dr. Lu needs to take Grandpa’s pulse,” Zhou Zhengqian said, turning to Lu Feng. “I’m afraid our hospitality has been lacking. Please forgive us.”

“The meal was already sumptuous. Thank you for your generosity,” Lu Feng replied politely.

“Then, Dr. Lu, may I invite you to the study? I’ll have fresh tea brought—this year’s newly picked white tips,” Zhou Zhengqian said, getting up first to help his father.

Lu Feng also rose and courteously supported the old master’s other arm.

Once in the study, Zhou Zhengqian left to fetch Zhou Fuqu to prepare the tea.

Zhou Fuqu’s tea-brewing skills were practiced and smooth. She poured away the first water, brewed the second infusion, and served the cups in order to the old master, Zhou Zhengqian, and Lu Feng.

By comparison, Zhou Fuqu excelled in Chinese etiquette, always serving elders first—an ingrained habit that might easily be forgotten in a less well-taught household.

Of course, when the old master received the first cup, he immediately passed it to Lu Feng—a gesture of respect toward the guest.

Naturally, Lu Feng declined and pushed the cup back.

The tea was indeed fragrant and left a lingering aftertaste. After savoring it, Lu Feng remarked, “I’ve had the tea. I’ll begin the examination now.”

“Yes, yes…” Zhou Zhengqian replied, taking a cushion to prop up his father’s hand.

Lu Feng took the old master’s wrist and carefully felt the pulse.

A cup of tea’s time passed, and as Lu Feng finished the pulse reading, Zhou Fuqu had just brewed the third infusion.

“The first water, second tea, the third and fourth are the essence. Dr. Lu, please enjoy a cup before giving your diagnosis,” Zhou Zhengqian said, handing him the cup.

Lu Feng took the purple clay cup and sipped. The tea was hot, fragrant but not cloying, and the taste lingered in his mouth.

“Master Zhou’s health is restored, his energy even and steady. He may begin to supplement his diet, but not excessively. Red dates, goji berries, and codonopsis root would all be beneficial,” Lu Feng advised.

Zhou Zhengqian took careful note and nodded.

Just then, Zhou Luyang appeared at the door and called softly, “Third Sister, I have something to discuss. Come out for a moment.”

Zhou Fuqu was preparing the fourth infusion. At the sound, she frowned and glanced back, but thought nothing of it and quietly said, “Grandfather, Dad, I’ll step out for a bit.”

“Mm…”

Zhou Fuqu finished infusing the fourth tea, then rose and left the study, following Zhou Zhengqian into the back courtyard.

Lu Feng finished checking the pulse, released the old master’s wrist, and asked, “How is your appetite, sir?”

“Quite good, though after so much medicine, I feel scattered and empty inside, and can’t eat much at each meal,” the old master replied.

“Avoid spicy and greasy foods, but otherwise, eat what you enjoy. Those who say this or that food is not good are only talking; eating is always better than not eating,” Lu Feng said.

“That’s true. In the lean years when I was young, we even ate clay,” the old master recalled, laughing as the wrinkles on his face deepened.

“That clay is truly inedible,” Lu Feng said with a smile.

“So it is. Back then, many people suffered fatal bloating after eating it,” the old master reminisced.

Zhou Zhengqian, holding his teacup, watched his father, deliberating over questions he wished to ask Lu Feng.

The matter of the old master being cursed had all been related by Zhou Fuqu; Zhou Zhengqian wanted to hear directly from Lu Feng.

“Dr. Lu, regarding my father’s curse, I still have some questions I’d like clarified,” Zhou Zhengqian began.

Since this was a medical issue, there was no reason to withhold information. Lu Feng replied readily, “Please, Uncle Zhou.”

“Was the matter of the curse genuine?” Zhou Zhengqian asked.

“Based on what I observed, it was real,” Lu Feng answered.

Zhou Zhengqian paused, glanced at the old master, and seeing he wished to hear more, continued, “That bottle of booklice—I had it tested. There were indeed toxic alkaloids present, but it couldn’t be confirmed as the curse you described. According to the lab, dead insects, if not properly handled, can also produce toxic alkaloids.”

“I am certain that bottle of booklice was raised on a human corpse. More accurately, they should be called corpse worms, and the toxin they produce is known as corpse poison. Some things defy scientific explanation—acupuncture, for example, cannot be explained by Western medicine, yet it is undeniably effective.”

Zhou Zhengqian nodded. “If, and I stress if, someone truly meant harm to my father, could they use even more dangerous means?”

Lu Feng frowned, considered, and replied, “Using corpse worms is a low-level method, but I can’t be sure whether the perpetrator might resort to more dangerous means, as raising corpse worms isn’t difficult—anyone with the nerve could do it after learning the method.”

Zhou Zhengqian’s brows knitted. “If they did have more potent methods, would you have the means to cure them?”

“Healing the sick is my duty. I will do my utmost,” Lu Feng replied.

This answer was somewhat empty—since the enemy had not yet escalated their methods, to promise a cure now would be irresponsible.

“Thank you, Dr. Lu. Please accept this token of our gratitude,” Zhou Zhengqian said, producing a red envelope and handing it to Lu Feng.

Lu Feng took it, squeezed it, and realized there was a card inside—clearly a substantial fee for treating the old master. Since it was a card, the amount must be considerable.

Delighted, Lu Feng accepted the envelope; at last, he had earned a handsome sum.

Once Lu Feng had put away his fee, Zhou Zhengqian continued, “Our family would like to invite you to our country estate as a guest. I wonder if Fuqu mentioned it to you?”

“She did. When I have time, I’ll come,” Lu Feng replied.

“Then we’ll look forward to it, Dr. Lu.”

Just then, Du Zhitong burst in, seized Lu Feng’s hand, and cried, “Doctor Brother, come quickly with me…”