Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Manager Qi looked up at the sound, just as the door of the adjacent private room opened, revealing an elegant, slender figure.

He was instantly overjoyed, but upon a closer look at her face, he immediately recognized her—wasn't this the lady who had made a bet with him a few days ago?

Hah, was their August Tower truly going to be knocked off its pedestal one day and reduced to the second-best tavern?

Wasn’t that the biggest joke imaginable?

Thus, Manager Qi’s expression quickly turned from joy to concern, and he could only reply with a hint of helplessness, "Madam, please stop joking around. This is no time for such antics."

Not only did Manager Qi find Shen Anning’s words astonishing, but even the maids accompanying her exchanged surprised glances. Did their mistress actually understand medicine? How had they never known?

Even Bai Tao was a little confused; she only remembered her mistress selling herbs to shops in town but had no idea she was knowledgeable in medicine.

Yet Shen Anning had a slight smile at the corner of her lips as she addressed Manager Qi, "If I’m not mistaken, the strange ailment of the esteemed guest inside is likely... related to water."

Shen Anning stopped a few steps away from Manager Qi and spoke calmly and unhurriedly.

Her understated remark successfully caused Manager Qi’s expression to change.

He first stared wide-eyed, then showed astonishment, followed by a dazed look. Clearly, Shen Anning’s words had hit the mark, leaving Manager Qi frozen in place.

It wasn’t until some time had passed that Manager Qi came to his senses. He scrutinized the woman a few steps away from head to toe once more, and this time, he instantly dropped all his earlier disdain and contempt. Hope rekindled in his expression as if he had found a saving grace, and he grew so excited that he was about to rub his hands together eagerly. But just then, with a creak, the tightly shut door behind him was pushed open from the inside again. This time, a woman in purple emerged.

The purple-clad woman had an ordinary appearance, much like the guard from earlier—easily forgotten at a glance. Yet her demeanor and the polished manner in her gestures indicated she was no ordinary person.

The purple-clad woman stepped outside and stood by the door, smiling faintly at Shen Anning from a distance. "Madam, my master would like to see you."

She smiled without showing her teeth, her politeness courteous yet faintly aristocratic. As she spoke, she made a gesture of invitation toward Shen Anning.

Shen Anning followed the gesture with her gaze toward the room. A thick curtain hung down, completely obscuring the view inside, leaving nothing visible.

By then, Manager Qi had already recovered his wits. Bowing, he gave a knowing look and grinned apologetically at Shen Anning, saying, "Madam, it seems I misjudged you earlier. I didn't recognize true talent and nearly let our real chance slip by. I beg your forgiveness."

He added eagerly, "Please, Madam, come inside quickly. If you can truly cure the esteemed guest’s illness today, it would be a great fortune."

He seemed both anxious to apologize and eager to usher her right in.

Shen Anning, quite intrigued by the esteemed guest inside, did not refuse. She nodded slightly to the purple-clad woman and calmly stepped inside.

Bai Tao, snapping to her senses, quickly followed Shen Anning, intending to enter with her, but the purple-clad woman stopped her at the door, reminding her calmly, "Please stay here, miss."

Her gaze then returned to Shen Anning’s face, still wearing a faint smile as she said, "My master prefers quiet. I hope you understand."

Her words were polite, but her tone left no room for argument.

Bai Tao frowned at once. The private room had an air of mystery about it, and she felt uneasy about her mistress entering alone. She was about to voice her concern when Shen Anning gave her a reassuring look and said, "Don’t worry, it’s fine. Wait here for me. I’ll be back soon."

With that, she stepped alone into the mysterious room.

…

Upon entering, Shen Anning saw that the private room was large and spacious, with a side chamber on each side—at least three times larger than their adjacent room. In the center stood a rosewood screen depicting galloping horses, with a powerful presence. Beside the screen was a half-person-high pagoda, from which a wisp of smoke curled upward, hanging in the air. The room was filled with the faint, lingering scent of sandalwood.

A glance around revealed that everything in sight was furnished with fine rosewood. The dark-colored chairs and furnishings all showed wealth, and even the floor was paved with high-quality large-leaf rosewood, adding a sense of grandeur and solemnity to the room. Such lavish decoration was only rivaled by the old marquis’s study in the entire marquis’s estate.

Clearly, though adjacent to Shen Anning’s room, this private room was on a completely different level. It didn’t seem like an ordinary guest room but rather a specially designed private room reserved for someone of high status—the kind reserved for the powerful and noble.

The entire room was incredibly luxurious, yet at that moment, it was so quiet it seemed empty. The sound of a pin dropping would likely be audible, and even her footsteps echoed faintly. No wonder the ordinary folks who had exited earlier had looked so tense and fearful. The sheer opulence and silence alone were enough to intimidate anyone.

However, Shen Anning had visited the palace and had her share of worldly experience. After a brief moment of surprise, she quickly regained her composure.

After surveying the room, her gaze returned to the screen. It was wide and thick, completely concealing what lay behind it. Yet Shen Anning knew that the person she was there to see was behind it.

She focused her eyes on the screen, quietly observing it, expecting to be summoned for questioning. But before long, the purple-clad woman closed the door and came straight to the point: "According to the rules, anyone entering must first take the pulse. Please take a seat, Madam."

Shen Anning was slightly surprised but showed no change in expression. She complied and sat down. Soon, slight movements came from behind the screen, and a moment later, a green-clad woman passed a thin silk thread through the screen. The purple-clad woman took the thread and brought it to Shen Anning. Throughout the process, the room remained utterly silent, without a single sound.

But when Shen Anning saw the thread presented to her, she was momentarily stunned. At first, she didn’t grasp the meaning of this gesture. However, the moment the purple-clad woman spoke, it suddenly dawned on her—could this be—

"My master suffers from a stubborn illness and cannot be seen. Please use this to take my master’s pulse—"

The purple-clad woman spoke to Shen Anning with a calm expression.

As she spoke, she scrutinized Shen Anning with a subtle, assessing gaze.

Hearing this and seeing the thread, Shen Anning was momentarily stunned.

No wonder the physicians who had exited earlier had all looked strange and bewildered—some dejected, some panicked, and others cursing. They hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the esteemed guest inside. The threshold to meet this noble figure was passing a test, and the method was pulse diagnosis by suspended thread. As the name implied, it involved diagnosing the patient’s condition without any physical contact or even seeing the patient, relying solely on a single thread.

After her initial shock, Shen Anning found the situation rather ridiculous.

She had only heard of pulse diagnosis by suspended thread in operas and legends. Neither in her previous life nor in this one had she ever witnessed it firsthand, having always assumed it was an exaggerated fabrication. Yet here she was, seeing it with her own eyes.

After a brief moment of bewilderment, Shen Anning regained her composure and soon spoke frankly and honestly, "I do not know how to take a pulse via a suspended thread, nor do I know anything about medicine."

As she said this, her expression remained calm, as if she were saying the most normal thing.

The purple-clad woman, however, paused and instinctively glanced toward the screen. Her expression turned serious as she asked, "If you have no medical knowledge, how did you know my master’s condition is related to water?"

Shen Anning replied, "It was just a guess."

She then continued, half-seriously and half-playfully, "It’s said that August Tower is exceptionally hospitable and meticulous in its service, making guests feel at home. Yet since I took my seat in the adjacent room today, tea was not served promptly. In the short span of half an hour, the waiter kept coming over here with a copper kettle repeatedly—at least four or five times. At first, I thought there were many guests here who had taken our tea. But when I learned that physicians were being sought here, it dawned on me. That’s when I guessed that the master’s condition might be related to water. After all, it’s rare for an ordinary person to consume such a large amount of water."

Shen Anning analyzed calmly and concluded with a slight smile, "Of course, if I’m wrong, consider it my presumption. I hope you won’t take offense."

In such an environment, Shen Anning seemed relaxed, as if she were engaging in casual conversation, showing no sign of tension or pressure.

The purple-clad woman remained silent for a long while before pressing further, "Since you lack the skill, why did you offer your services?"

Pausing, she shed some of her earlier leniency and adopted a more authoritative tone. "This is not a place for casual entertainment."

With that, she made as if to escort Shen Anning out.

But then Shen Anning’s tone shifted, and she continued as if to herself, "Though I have no medical expertise, I have fortunately encountered a peculiar illness related to water once."

Without waiting for the other to respond, Shen Anning went on, "I once knew a wealthy merchant who suffered from an incurable disease. His condition was so strange that he sought many famous physicians but found no improvement. He had a stout build, a puffy face, and unsteady steps. His symptoms included excessive drinking, frequent urination, overeating, constant fatigue, panting after just a few steps, and daily bouts of sweating. He always kept tea by his side. Later, he frequently fainted at home and remained bedridden for a long time. The illness was so bizarre—it was considered fatal yet wouldn’t kill him, said to be harmless yet caused immense suffering. Hovering between life and death, it was truly tormenting. And it would gradually worsen unnoticed until—"

Shen Anning stopped there.

The purple-clad woman’s expression shifted slightly, and she immediately pressed, "Until what?"

Shen Anning smiled faintly, picked up a cup of tea nearby, took a slow sip, and then replied leisurely, "Until he met a physician who completely cured him of his long-standing strange illness."

The woman in purple, upon hearing this, showed a rare glimmer of excitement on her usually composed and restrained face, and her tone carried a hint of urgency as she urged eagerly, "Oh, is that truly the case?" As she spoke, she quickly regained her composure, forcing her voice steady before continuing, "May I ask where that physician is now, and if he has a name?"

Shen Anning replied, "He was just an ordinary barefoot doctor who happened to be passing through. He has long since left the area, and his whereabouts are unknown."

The woman in purple narrowed her eyes, suddenly feeling toyed with, and scrutinized the person before her intently.

But Shen Anning suddenly smiled again and continued, "However, I still remember the prescription. I was the one who prepared the medicine back then."

With that, she raised her eyes and calmly met the woman’s gaze, asking, "I wonder if the wealthy merchant’s condition bears any resemblance to that of the esteemed person inside?"

Her words were evasive and roundabout, as if she were deliberately avoiding the point. The woman in purple finally realized that the other party’s true intention did not lie with her.

Just as she was collecting herself, a raspy and weak voice suddenly came from behind the screen, saying, "What is it that you want, madam? Please speak plainly."

It was the voice of a woman—husky and thick, yet with a faint undertone of shortness of breath.

"If a thousand taels of gold is not enough, we can discuss further," the person inside the room added calmly from behind the screen.

This, in essence, was a tacit admission.

Hearing this, Shen Anning finally placed her teacup down, lifted her gaze toward the screen, and smiled faintly as she said, "I do not want any money."

As she spoke, she rose slowly from her seat and addressed the person behind the screen directly, word by word: "I only hope that His Highness Prince Ning will be gracious enough to transfer ownership of the Crane Tower to me."

She stated her purpose clearly and without reservation, revealing her true intention for coming today.

It turned out that the true "Number One Tavern under Heaven" in her previous life was none other than the Crane Tower, which rose to prominence later. And the real master behind the Crane Tower was none other than His Highness Prince Ning.

In this world, what business yielded quick profits? Salt trade and canal transportation were the fastest, but those were not paths Shen Anning could take. As a woman limited to domestic life, if she wanted to make money quickly and safely, her only option for now was to leverage her seven years of foresight to profit from property price differences. Real estate, shops, and taverns were undoubtedly the most lucrative and fastest-returning investments at the moment.

Among them, the Crane Tower was the one Shen Anning was most determined to acquire. After all, properties and shops were merely inanimate assets, while a top-tier tavern like the Crane Tower was a golden goose that could generate continuous wealth. Shen Anning had no intention of letting it slip away easily.

However, her adoptive father, Wu Youcai, had recently reported that this currently little-known tavern was being secretly competed for in the bidding by someone else. After some investigation, it turned out that the person behind it was from the Prince Ning's residence.

This was precisely why Shen Anning had come to the August Pavilion today.

Yes, she had come here today specifically to wait in ambush for her mark.

And that mark was none other than Dowager Consort Dong, the birth mother of Prince Ning.

It was said that Dowager Consort Dong was illiterate and had originally been a lowly maidservant in the palace. Yet, it was precisely her humble status that had allowed her and Prince Ning to survive when Noble Consort Huo held power. For over a decade, Prince Ning had feigned madness to stay alive, while Dowager Consort Dong indulged in excessive eating and drinking, ballooned to three times her size until she grew enormous.

Later, she developed a strange illness as a result.

It was also said that Dowager Consort Dong rarely went out due to her extreme obesity, but she would visit the August Pavilion every year to view the moon. Thus, Shen Anning had come today with the prescription with her, intending to negotiate.

As soon as Shen Anning finished speaking, a strained silence fell over the room.

Her direct approach naturally aroused suspicion in the person behind the screen.

The person behind the screen remained silent, as if carefully studying her and pondering her true motives.

A long, tense silence ensued.

After what felt like an eternity, a rich, lazy voice suddenly spoke from another direction in the room: "It seems Madam Lu has come well-prepared."

"Please invite Madam Lu to come inside and speak."

The voice was unexpected and unfamiliar—it belonged to a man.

As soon as the words were spoken, a woman around fifty years of age emerged from behind the screen. She was dressed in elegant, wealthy attire. Just as Shen Anning was secretly wondering if this woman was Dowager Consort Dong, the woman nodded slightly to her and said, "Please follow me, madam."

With that, the woman led her to a side chamber. The bead curtain of the chamber was lifted by two maids, revealing a woman in her forties seated inside. The woman was rotund, with a double chin and a round, Buddha-like in appearance. She was drenched in sweat, and five or six empty copper teapots were placed on the table before her.

Opposite her lay a man in purple robes reclining lazily. He wore a purple-gold crown and exuded an air of refined opulence. He looked somewhat familiar, and in a flash of recognition, Shen Anning realized—wasn’t this the same person she had seen briefly from a distance at the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests? Prince Ning himself?

These two were none other than Dowager Consort Dong and Prince Ning.

And the person behind the screen was merely an old servant woman accompanying them.

She had not expected Prince Ning to be here as well.

Even more surprising was that she had nearly mistaken the old servant woman for Dowager Consort Dong.

Shen Anning was startled, a flash of embarrassment on her face. She immediately lowered her head and said respectfully, "This humble subject... pays her respects to the Dowager Consort and His Highness Prince Ning."