The Martial Arts Stunt Double of the Entertainment Circle – Chapter 8

The Strange Physician Strategist who once followed her had said that scar formation was inextricably linked to stagnant Qi and blood, and obstructed circulation.

To prevent scarring, one had to start taking blood-invigorating medication before the wound even closed. Once the scabs fell off, applying the external Flesh-Engendering Scar-Eliminating Ointment alongside it—a two-pronged approach, supplemented by medicinal baths, acupuncture, and massage—would yield excellent results.

But no matter how familiar Tuoba Yan was with the prescription, or how effective the formula itself might be, the goal of removing scars was predicated on having sufficient resources.

            

To put it bluntly, General Tuoba could not afford the medicine.

The Qiao mother and daughter were not wealthy. When Qiao Chunyi divorced Tuoba Xiu back then, half of the child support she received went toward securing a place to live, and the other half had been gradually spent over the years. Of the small amount remaining, she had set aside into a special card as an education fund for her daughter’s future university tuition, resolved never to touch it no matter how hard things got.

No matter how much Tuoba Yan carried on after suspending her studies, Qiao Chunyi had never touched that money—until the day she came home and found her daughter lying in a pool of blood. Only then did she panic, calling 120¹ before rushing to fetch the card from under the bed board, taking it to the hospital to pay for her daughter’s surgery and subsequent hospitalization.

            

After coaxing the expenses of the past half-month out of Nurse Qiao, Tuoba Yan absolutely refused to stay any longer, insisting on returning home to recuperate. Privately, Qiao Chunyi felt it would be better to stay in the hospital a few more days, but she could not withstand her daughter’s persistent wheedling, so she completed the discharge paperwork and brought her home to rest.

Mother and daughter gathered their bundles and boarded a bus. Since her rebirth, Tuoba Yan’s range of activity had been limited to a small radius centered on the hospital; she was not entirely clear on the exact location of the Qiao Family Home. Adhering to the principle that less said meant fewer mistakes, she simply trotted obediently behind Qiao Chunyi, only breathing a sigh of relief once they were through the front door.

The Qiao Family Home was a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a drab, grey, old-style residential building, with a total area of just over seventy square meters. The two bedrooms, the single living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom were all cramped beyond reason. With no dining room, meals were makeshift affairs in the living room.

            

Still, Qiao Chunyi had a gift for making a house a home. Everywhere were table runners, dust covers, and fabric storage baskets she had sewn on her old sewing machine, dotted with cheap but hardy spider plants and the like, making the space feel cozy and inviting.

Tuoba Yan pushed open the door to ‘her’ bedroom. Just as the diary had described, three walls were covered in full-length glass mirrors, piled high with beauty and fashion magazines and books, while an outdated desktop computer sat on the desk in the corner.

She put her things down and began organizing the room. Tuoba Yan flipped through the books one by one, sorting them into piles before pushing stack after stack under the desk. To her surprise, she looked up and spotted a small brass key taped to the underside of the desk with clear adhesive tape.

            

Tuoba Yan tore off the tape, removed the key, and turned it over in her fingers.

Where there was a key, there had to be a lock. She searched around and, sure enough, found a small tin box inside a shoebox under the bed. Tuoba Yan tried inserting the key into the keyhole—it was a perfect match.

Opening the box, the contents gave Tuoba Yan a sudden thrill of serendipity. It was the private treasury the original Tuoba Yan had accumulated over the years! Seven pink hundred-yuan bills, plus other fifties, twenties, and scattered loose change, totaling over ¥1,400.

            

In her past life, the Grand General had possessed wealth rivaling that of a nation; the assorted war spoils seized from the Xiongnu tribes and the riches bestowed by the Emperor had piled so high they overflowed the treasury vaults. But once she died, it had all probably gone to benefit the Emperor and the bastard sons of those lowly maids. Thinking of this, Tuoba Yan could not help but feel a twinge of regret and heartache—she really should have set the imperial palace ablaze back then, letting the Emperor and his black-hearted concubines and bastard offspring sleep on the streets!

Tuoba Yan sorted the banknotes, secured them with a rubber band, placed them back in the box, locked it, and returned it to the shoebox under the bed before continuing to tidy her room.

At noon, Mom Qiao Chunyi showed off her culinary skills, preparing three dishes and a soup. The soup was a fragrant, rich tomato and beef brisket stew, accompanied by deep-fried pork tenderloin, braised ribbonfish, and a plate of greens with mashed garlic. The two of them held their bowls, eating meat and drinking soup to their hearts’ content. Tuoba Yan offered constant praise: “Mom’s cooking is still the best.” Qiao Chunyi beamed with pride.

            

Naturally, so much food could not be finished in a single meal. Qiao Chunyi washed the stovetop in the kitchen while Tuoba Yan was in charge of putting the leftovers in the refrigerator, wiping the table, and mopping the floor. Qiao Chunyi carefully controlled the flow of water, efficiently scrubbing the pots with a hand-bound broom brush she had bought at the market.

“Yanyan, today is your first day home, so Mom cooked up a feast. From now on, it will be simple fare.”

Tuoba Yan answered without hesitation, tying the full garbage bag shut: “I was just thinking that! Our family isn’t some wealthy household, we don’t need to be so particular about meals. Whatever Mom makes, I’ll eat. I’m not picky anymore. You can rest easy.”

            

“Okay!” Qiao Chunyi responded, turning her head to steal a smile. Her daughter had truly grown up and become sensible.

Once the house was cleaned up, Qiao Chunyi changed into a blue pinstriped supermarket uniform shirt. She picked up her bag and apologetically told Tuoba Yan, “I’m off to work. The supermarket is doing its month-end inventory today, so I’ll probably have to work overtime. I won’t be home for dinner tonight. Just heat up lunch in the microwave later. There’s loose change in the tissue box on the sofa; buy yourself something to eat.”

Tuoba Yan nodded. Qiao Chunyi grabbed the two tied garbage bags by the door and hurried downstairs.

            

Ears pricked to the sound of the door opening in the stairwell, Tuoba Yan dashed into her room the moment she heard it. From the window, she watched Qiao Chunyi toss the garbage and leave the residential compound entirely.

A few minutes passed. Estimating that Qiao Chunyi had already boarded the bus, Tuoba Yan dropped to the floor, dragged out the shoebox from under the bed, and used the key to open the tin box hidden inside. She counted out ¥500 and slipped it into her wallet, then grabbed a few coins from the tissue box for the bus fare and stuffed them into her pocket.

She put on her shoes, packed her wallet, parasol, and water bottle into her backpack, and headed straight for the Yuchuan Chinese Herb Wholesale Market.

            

Baking under the blazing sun, Tuoba Yan specifically sought out the cheapest scrap stalls to pick out her herbs. These stalls were a mixed bag of genuine and fake goods, but her eyes were sharp; a single glance or touch was enough to distinguish the counterfeit and substandard herbs hidden among the real ones. After an hour of browsing, she had basically bought everything needed for the first phase: Astragalus², Angelica³, Salvia root⁴, leeches⁵, and dozens of other medicinal herbs. She had the vendors wrap them separately in paper, tied them together with string, and finally bought a cheap clay pot for brewing medicine.

Carrying all these supplies home, Tuoba Yan ran into a new problem: brewing medicine at home was out of the question. The smell would be too strong, Qiao Chunyi would discover it, and there would be no way to explain it. She paced the room once, when suddenly her gaze fell upon the abandoned factory outside the west window, and a plan formed in her mind.

She did a physical inspection of the area and found an Abandoned Courtyard with an old water well inside.

            

The courtyard was desolate; though dilapidated from years of neglect, it did not look like it was in any immediate danger of collapsing. She ferried the necessary supplies over in two trips using her backpack.

Tuoba Yan cleared out the least decrepit of the north rooms and gave it a simple sweeping. Using local materials, she gathered over a dozen intact bricks and stacked them into a makeshift stove. This was hardly a challenge for her; back when she led military campaigns, they had set up camps and built stoves on the spot. Such tasks came naturally to Tuoba Yan.

She drew a bucket of water from the well and took a sip—the water was still crisp and clear. Tuoba Yan sorted and prepared the herbs, measured out a single dose, and set it to soak in water. She then started a fire to sterilize the medicine pot, boiling and discarding the water three times in a row before she trusted it enough to begin brewing the medicine in earnest.

            

She toiled until dusk fell, finally producing a dose of strange-smelling, pungent medicinal soup.

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The author has something to say:

A Certain Tang had matters to attend to the past two days and didn’t update, but today will update with 6,000 words as compensation. First! Post!

            

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