Chapter Ninety: The Thief Who Stole the Herbal Medicine

The morning’s incident had not dampened Xie Qingtang’s spirits; she continued treating patients and dispensing medicine as usual. Across the street from the Benevolence Hall, Shao Siming furrowed his brow slightly, then told the driver, “Let’s go.”

He knew regaining Xie Qingtang’s forgiveness would not be easy, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so difficult.

“Boss, you punished me for three hours last night. My hands are numb, and I can’t even grind the herbs anymore,” Zhou Jinfan complained, shaking his sore arm as he spoke to Xie Qingtang.

Xie Qingtang responded with a cold glare, silencing Zhou Jinfan’s complaints—he dared not say another word, unsure how much longer he might be punished otherwise.

The situation still made Xie Qingtang angry. Originally, she could have traded that four-leaf Ghost Needle Grass with Gu Xiujin for a considerable sum, but Zhou Jinfan had ruined it.

“Hurry up and take the sorted herbs to the backyard for drying. If you keep talking nonsense, you’ll soon know what it feels like to see stars before your eyes,” Xie Qingtang said, stuffing the prepared herbs into Zhou Jinfan’s hands.

Resigned, Zhou Jinfan nodded and took the herbs to the backyard, then returned to the front hall to help dispense medicine for the patients.

The day passed without further incident. After a busy day, Xie Qingtang stretched lazily, ready to take the herbs she’d been drying in the backyard to prepare a medicinal meal for her grandfather.

But when she arrived in the backyard, she was surprised to find that a quarter of the herbs she’d laid out to dry were missing.

As a practitioner of traditional medicine, she was acutely aware of the quantities of her herbs. Seeing a quarter missing made her frown; she called Zhou Jinfan over.

“Why are a quarter of the herbs missing? Did you accidentally spill them while drying?” Xie Qingtang asked, her expression stern.

Zhou Jinfan waved his hands in protest. “Heavens, boss, please don’t accuse me! How could I possibly lose the herbs?”

“Or did you secretly hide them, waiting to sell them for yourself?” Xie Qingtang narrowed her eyes, suspicion flashing in her gaze.

This time, Zhou Jinfan was at a loss, hastily beating his chest and swearing, “Boss, you can insult my body, but you mustn’t insult my character! I would never do something so despicable. I swear to the heavens: if I ever steal herbs, may I never advance in traditional medicine for the rest of my life.”

Hearing such a fierce oath, Xie Qingtang paused in surprise. Zhou Jinfan was unusually devoted to traditional medicine, vowing to master it—now he swore by it. It seemed genuine; the missing herbs weren’t his doing.

Her frown deepened. If Zhou Jinfan hadn’t taken the herbs and no one else had been in the backyard, who had?

Just then, a bird’s song sounded overhead. Xie Qingtang looked up, astonished to see that the beautiful bird from earlier in the day was still perched on a branch, spreading its lovely wings.

At that moment, Zhou Jinfan, feeling frustrated, grew even more irritable hearing the incessant chirping above his head. He looked up, complaining, “Why hasn’t this annoying bird flown away? Chirping non-stop overhead—so irritating.”

“Alright, since you didn’t take the herbs, I believe you. Go to the front hall and bring more herbs,” Xie Qingtang said, waving him off.

Zhou Jinfan nodded and went to the front hall. Xie Qingtang’s eyes glimmered with a mysterious light as she glanced at the bird overhead, said nothing, and gathered the dried herbs to prepare her grandfather’s medicinal meal.

In the kitchen, Zhao Xianglan was already prepping the basic ingredients. She smiled at Xie Qingtang. “Miss, I’ve got the rice and meat ready for you. Do you need anything else?”

“Aunt Lan, tonight I’ll have to trouble you to make the medicinal meal. I have something else to attend to,” Xie Qingtang replied with a slightly embarrassed smile. Zhao Xianglan found it odd—usually Xie Qingtang prepared her grandfather’s medicinal meals herself—but she simply nodded.

Though she left Zhao Xianglan to cook, Xie Qingtang didn’t leave the kitchen. Instead, she watched the backyard quietly through the kitchen window.

Minute by minute, time passed. Zhou Jinfan brought more herbs from the front hall, replenished the missing ones, and returned to his other tasks.

After a while, Xie Qingtang’s frown only deepened. She muttered, “Could things really be different from what I imagined?”

Just then, the bird that had been singing merrily on the branch looked around alertly, almost like a person, then fluttered down from its perch straight onto the drying rack.

In the next moment, it began to eat the herbs as if no one were there, picking out only the ones that had been carefully dried.

Seeing this, a smile of satisfaction spread across Xie Qingtang’s face. The corners of her mouth lifted in triumph. “Caught you at last, you little thief who eats medicinal herbs!”

But she didn’t act rashly; instead, she turned to help Zhao Xianglan with the medicinal meal, as if nothing had happened.

That evening, Xie Qingtang told Zhou Jinfan about the bird that had been stealing the dried herbs.

“What, Boss? You’re saying the missing herbs were eaten by that little bird? My heavens, that thief made me take the blame! No way—I have to catch it,” Zhou Jinfan exclaimed, rolling up his sleeves in righteous indignation.

Xie Qingtang quickly grabbed his hand. “It has wings—it can fly. Can you fly? Besides, that bird is clever, only sneaking in when no one’s in the backyard to eat the herbs. Catching it won’t be so easy.”

“But what am I supposed to do? I can’t keep taking the blame for a bird,” Zhou Jinfan grumbled, still indignant at his wrongful accusation.

Xie Qingtang’s eyes sparkled with cunning; she already had a plan in mind.