Chapter 19 The Value of a True Friend

Chapter 19: The Value Lies in a True Friend

Rain loomed that night—the evening wind sweeping across the porch was unusually fierce, no longer cool and gentle as it usually was.

Yet Wu Qiu, held securely in Lei Ding’s embrace, felt no chill. Lei Ding stood facing the wind, shielding him completely. They remained locked in quiet, motionless embrace for a long while. Lei Ding spoke not a word, only occasionally exhaling a soft, weary sigh near Wu Qiu’s ear. Wu Qiu, too, stayed silent, his face buried deep in the crook of Lei Ding’s shoulder. Lei Ding had just returned from gathering herbs, and the scent of medicinal plants clung more strongly to him than usual. Wu Qiu, long accustomed to it, found it soothing—almost sweet—and nestled closer, breathing it in deeply.

Lei Ding finally chuckled softly, lowering his head to press a tender kiss to Wu Qiu’s hair. When he spoke again, his voice had regained some strength, no longer hollow with exhaustion. “Well then—it’s time we headed back. The wind’s picked up tonight; we mustn’t catch cold.”

Wu Qiu nodded, hesitating for a long moment—as if holding back words—before finally speaking. “Qiu Er is right.”

Lei Ding noticed at once. “What is it? I can tell something’s on your mind. Just say it.”

Wu Qiu paused, choosing his words carefully before speaking, voice heavy with reluctance. “Qiu Er… I’ve wronged you. But our wedding—I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone it a little longer.”

Originally, they’d agreed to formally discuss their marriage with Lei Xun, Cui Nanshan, and Yang Shu that very day.

Wu Qiu pulled away from the embrace, refusing to be held any longer, his brows drawing together. “Do you really think I’m that difficult? What kind of time is this? Would I make a fuss over *that*, right now?”

Lei Ding shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I know Qiu Er wouldn’t mind—but *I* was the one who promised yesterday. In the end, I broke my word. It’s my fault. Qiu Er, don’t worry. I *did* promise to marry you. We just need to wait a little longer.”

Wu Qiu knew Lei Ding was worried—afraid he’d feel slighted—so true anger was impossible. His heart ached for Lei Ding, who still insisted on looking after him amid all this, terrified he’d push himself too far and fall ill. Stepping forward, Wu Qiu took Lei Ding’s hand. “I know. Look at you—why are you being so stubborn? Brother, don’t worry about me. Worrying so much—what if you wear yourself out? Let’s just wait until Master Cui has fully recovered, until the clinic isn’t so overwhelmed, until the plague outside is under control—then we’ll handle everything calmly. I’m not in a hurry—”

He lifted Lei Ding’s hand and pressed it gently against his own chest, where their marriage contract lay safely tucked away. “Have you forgotten? We’re already betrothed.”

Though the sky was utterly black, they stood close enough for Lei Ding to see the faint, tender smile playing on Wu Qiu’s lips. He ruffled Wu Qiu’s hair. “Qiu Er is right. I’ll remember that.”

He walked Wu Qiu back to his room, paused briefly at the threshold—then slipped inside before Wu Qiu could shut the door. Naturally, neither had energy or thought for anything beyond rest—but simply sleeping entwined in each other’s arms brought profound comfort.

Having spent the day in anxious, relentless activity—and with Lei Ding beside him through the night—Wu Qiu slept soundly and woke refreshed the next morning, ready to resume caring for Cui Nanshan. Cui Nanshan’s constitution couldn’t tolerate strong medicine; the day before, he’d only taken mild decoctions, so his fever persisted—though lower than the previous day—and his consciousness had improved slightly. He could now wake intermittently and utter a few words, no longer lying unconscious all day.

Lei Xun hadn’t slept properly all night, waking every half hour to check Cui Nanshan’s complexion, take his pulse, and offer sips of water. When Cui Nanshan shivered with cold, he’d curl into Lei Xun’s arms; when burning with fever, he’d groggily kick off the covers—only for Lei Xun to quietly tuck them back around him. Delirious and feverish, Cui Nanshan couldn’t distinguish dream from reality—sometimes murmuring in his half-sleep, prompting Lei Xun to wake instantly and soothe him. Though Lei Li also remained in the room, Lei Xun—fearing the boy was too young to bear such strain—had him sleep on a couch in the outer chamber, calling him only in urgent need. Thus, Lei Xun bore the brunt of the hardship alone.

Coincidentally, the clinic was required to send a physician to the isolation ward that day. Worried about insufficient hands at home, Lei Ding went himself—leaving both Lei Li and Lei Tan to assist there. During the day, Wu Qiu was left to care for Cui Nanshan, with Mrs. Liu and Yang Shu taking turns helping.

When Cui Nanshan occasionally regained clarity and saw Wu Qiu sitting beside him, gently stirring a bowl of medicine with a spoon, he managed a hoarse whisper: “Good child—you’ve worked hard.”

He coughed again immediately after speaking. Wu Qiu hurriedly supported him, propping two soft pillows behind his back to help him sit upright, then brought the medicine to his lips. “Please don’t say that, sir. You’ve been so kind to me—this is what I *want* to do.”

From Cui Nanshan, Wu Qiu truly felt a father’s love—warm, unwavering, unconditional. No wonder Lei Tan sometimes clung to him and acted spoiled. With such a father, Wu Qiu thought he might have done the same.

Cui Nanshan offered a weak smile and finished the medicine. Wu Qiu helped him lie down again and re-dampened the cloth resting on his forehead. Cui Nanshan thanked him, fell silent—and watched Wu Qiu’s movements thoughtfully before drifting once more into deep, heavy sleep.

At lunchtime, Lei Xun returned to relieve Wu Qiu, telling him to go eat and then rest in his room. Lei Li and Lei Tan had already taken turns eating and were now preparing medicine for several patients outside. Yang Shu, concerned the two boys hadn’t eaten enough in their rush, made some date-paste cakes—and happened to meet Wu Qiu returning his dishes to the kitchen, so she asked him to carry the snacks over.

Seeing two patients still waiting in the main hall, Wu Qiu first brought the pastries to the small study, then stepped out to see if he could lend a hand. Lei Tan had gone to the back room to fetch medicine, leaving only Lei Li in charge. Lei Li was thirteen this year. Before the epidemic, he’d mostly assisted his father and elder brother. Though skilled in medicine, he rarely had to manage the clinic alone. Seeing Wu Qiu enter, he visibly relaxed—and called out, “Brother Qiu!”

Wu Qiu bent down and asked softly, “Do you need me to fetch anything?”

Lei Li shook his head. “No, no—Tan Er’s already gone.” Then, a little embarrassed, he scratched his head and asked quietly, “If you’re not busy, Brother Qiu… could you sit here for a little while?”

After all, Wu Qiu was now an adult—and having him nearby steadied Lei Li. Wu Qiu nodded and pulled over a chair to sit beside him.

The two patients in the clinic—one had come to buy preventive herbs, the other had sprained his hand at home and needed injury medicine—waited for their prescriptions and struck up conversation to pass the time.

The herb buyer spoke first. “Who knows when this plague will end? It’s all those refugees’ fault. If not for them, Yongning City would never have suffered disaster—none of this would’ve happened.”

The injured man agreed. “Exactly. My neighbor’s whole family was sent to the isolation ward today. Who knows how they are now? Sigh—we might end up there ourselves tomorrow.”

Hearing this, Wu Qiu felt uneasy. He *was* one of the refugees they spoke of. But who, unless forced by dire circumstances, would willingly wander a strange land—let alone die on its streets? Still, only he and the two children—Lei Li and Lei Tan—were present. Not wanting to stir trouble, he said nothing.

The herb buyer pressed further. “The isolation ward’s been set up for several days now—how effective is it *really*? All I’ve heard is that many die there every day. If even the physicians there can’t cure this plague, what’s the point of going?”

Lei Li and Wu Qiu exchanged a glance but remained silent, listening quietly. Then the injured man asked, “Have you heard about that new ‘witch doctor’ in Dayou Village? I wonder what he’s like.”

When Wu Qiu had been stranded in Dayou Village, he’d had little interaction with locals and knew little of the situation there. He glanced subtly at Lei Li, eyes silently asking what this was about. Noticing, Lei Li gave a slight shake of his head—indicating he, too, knew nothing of this so-called witch doctor.

The herb buyer pondered a moment. “I think I’ve heard people mention him. Seems to be a wandering charlatan from Lingnan—claims to have miraculous prescriptions *specifically* for this plague—but who knows if it’s true? In my opinion, we’d better not join the crowd. No use getting our silver swindled. Let’s wait and see.”

Just then, several people arrived noisily outside the clinic. Lei Li and Wu Qiu stood up simultaneously. Wu Qiu hurried to the back to fetch Lei Xun—then returned to watch over Cui Nanshan, though his thoughts kept circling back to what the two patients had said.

Wandering charlatans—many had passed through Xue Family Village in the past, and Wu Qiu had seen his share. He remembered, as a child, a young girl in the village had fallen unconscious. The elders claimed her soul had been frightened away—and summoned a charlatan to examine her. Wu Qiu, still very young then, had followed the village children to watch the commotion. The charlatan looked wretched and frightening—so Wu Qiu ran home without watching further, never learning whether the girl recovered.

Later, in Xue Family Village, itinerant charlatans often passed through—always carrying strange pills and prescriptions claiming to cure *all* diseases. Some villagers were skeptical; others believed them immortals incarnate, spending considerable silver to buy these “miracle drugs” for their sick relatives. These charlatans never stayed long—disappearing after three to five days. If anything happened to the patients later, there was no one to hold accountable.

Wu Qiu himself had never believed in them. He didn’t even believe in gods or Buddhas. When his mother was critically ill—and later, when he suffered under Xue Hu’s bullying in Xue Family Village—he had wept and kowtowed countless times, begging all deities for mercy—yet none answered. Their family savings were nearly exhausted, and his mother still passed away. If not for the flood that brought him to Yongning City, he would still be powerless against Xue Hu’s growing tyranny. Naturally, he trusted those charlatans even less.

But if, as the patient said, a “witch doctor” selling plague-prevention medicine had indeed come to Dayou Village—wasn’t that exploiting people’s desperation to swindle them blind? Wu Qiu worried inwardly—but without knowing the facts, he couldn’t judge rashly.

Lost in thought, Cui Nanshan suddenly began coughing again. Wu Qiu rushed over to pat his back—and in the flurry of activity, the matter was temporarily forgotten.

According to official regulations, Lei Ding should have stayed overnight at the isolation ward. However, the physician from another clinic on duty with him that day was a close friend who knew about the patient at his home. He said there wasn’t much to do at night—and urged Lei Ding to return and check in person. So Lei Ding hurried home. By the time he arrived, it was long past dark, and the family had already finished dinner. Not expecting him, they hadn’t prepared anything. Lei Ding told Mrs. Liu not to trouble herself—he’d first change clothes, check on Cui Nanshan, then simply heat up some leftovers.

Wu Qiu came up beside Lei Ding, standing face-to-face, close—and waved a hand playfully in front of his eyes. “Why are you just standing there? Sit down and eat.”

Lei Ding wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his lips.

Wu Qiu closed his eyes, savoring this rare moment of tenderness amid the day’s chaos. But fearing the noodles would clump if they delayed too long, he kissed back twice—then gently pushed Lei Ding away, urging him to eat quickly.

Lei Ding smiled and sat down. Wu Qiu sat beside him, recounting the day’s events at home and Cui Nanshan’s condition. Finally, he remembered the two patients from noon—and quickly asked, “Brother, have you heard? It seems a wandering charlatan has come to Dayou Village, posing as a witch doctor and practicing medicine there. They say he can cure the plague.”

Lei Ding nodded. “Today at the isolation ward, I heard some government officers mention it. Apparently, the man calls himself Wu Peng—claims to have traveled all the way from Lingnan. Says he was divinely inspired to come here specifically to treat plague-stricken refugees.”

At this, Lei Ding shook his head with a cold laugh—and took a few sips of noodle soup. “If he truly had such inspiration, he should’ve come *earlier*—bringing preventive medicine *before* the plague broke out.”

Wu Qiu’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Brother is absolutely right. That charlatan’s lies are self-evident.”

Lei Ding chuckled. “Indeed. His tricks are far less substantial than this bowl of noodles from Qiu Er. Your cooking is really good.”

Wu Qiu rested his chin in his hands, watching him eat—his eyes filled entirely with Lei Ding’s figure. “This was just some hastily cooked noodles. Next time, when there’s more time, I can make something even better. I’ll cook for you often from now on. Are you going again tomorrow, brother?”

Lei Ding nodded. “Yes—I’ll probably have to go even earlier tomorrow. Today was the first day; it’s a three-day stint.”

Wu Qiu felt sorry for him, running back and forth. He considered telling him not to return tomorrow night—but then thought of Cui Nanshan, still ill. Though Lei Xun, Lei Li, and Lei Tan were managing at home, with *his own father* bedridden, he knew Lei Ding wouldn’t rest easy unless he saw for himself. Better to let him come back and check—to spare him needless worry. So he replied, “We didn’t know beforehand today. Tomorrow will be better. We’ll prepare more for dinner—so when you return, you’ll have a few more dishes.”

Lei Ding looked at him—and suddenly smiled. “Qiu Er truly is my soulmate.”

Even though they’d already been intimate, hearing Lei Ding say this still made Wu Qiu blush uncontrollably.

The next day, Lei Ding indeed left before dawn. As soon as the clinic opened, Lei Xun was also called out for a house call. Wu Qiu, as usual, was watching over Cui Nanshan in the room—and was about to fetch some water—when suddenly Mrs. Liu rushed in from outside, her face full of anxiety. Seeing Wu Qiu, she lowered her voice. “Something awful has happened, Qiu Geer! Someone’s causing trouble at the clinic!”

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Author’s Note: Qiu Bao’s anger looks like this: “I’m not letting you hold me anymore!!!” (Wow—so scary.) (Deadpan)

Doctor Lei reminds you: Please seek medical care at正规医疗机构哦!

They truly understand each other!