Be A Virtuous Wife! So Tough!

C68 – These Are All Lives!

“Tang Xiaolang, you’re truly impressive!” Hu Jinpeng genuinely praised Tang Yue and inquired, “How did you manage that?”

Landing behind State Duke Heng and his son, Tang Yue gazed at their figures and sighed, “Persistence can shape even iron, let alone a person, if they’re willing to endure it.”

Hu Jinpeng nodded. While true, the matter wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.

“You’re really going all out for the Tang Family’s wife, aren’t you?”

Tang Yue reflected, “I can’t stand idly by watching my sister step into a pit of fire.”

“Do you resent Marquis Yueyang for abandoning you and your son back then?”

Tang Yue couldn’t reply. After all, he wasn’t the real Tang Family’s young master. He hadn’t endured a life of relying on his mother, devoid of sufficient food and clothing. The “family” he witnessed hadn’t seeded hate within him.

“What’s the worth of harboring resentment? Life is fleeting, time is fleeting. Hating is a waste of both. If you really hate someone, surpass them in living a better life. Otherwise, you’ll be the one punished.”

Hu Jinpeng hadn’t expected such wisdom from someone so young. His feelings were a mixture of complexity and admiration.

This young master perpetually exuded an openness and vibrancy distinct from his contemporaries. He bore neither arrogance nor impatience. He held empathy and principles. No wonder Wang Zizhao viewed him with a changed perspective.

Having spent a month at Prince Zhao’s Mansion, Tang Yue had familiarized himself with the streets of the prefecture. The bustling servants greeted him upon sight, manifesting utmost respect.

State Duke Heng observed this and nodded inwardly. With Wang Zizhao’s favor, Tang Yue’s future seemed bright. He contemplated raising the dowry for his son’s marriage alliance with someone from the Yueyang Marquis’s Mansion.

The seven dukes of South Jin were esteemed generals who had fought valiantly alongside the king, earning grand accolades. Among them, only four survived. State Protector Zhao Yi, State Duke Ann Hu Kun, State Duke Heng Ping Yang, and State Duke Lu Xia Kui. Though the other three families had successors to their titles, they hadn’t chosen anyone yet.

Today’s assembly of the seven dukes was a rare occurrence. In all of South Jin, aside from the king, only Wang Zizhao held the requisite prestige.

Upon Tang Yue’s entrance into the grand hall, he was engulfed by the might of its atmosphere. An eerie silence hung. Chairs were meticulously aligned in two rows. Almost all were seated; the main seat, however, remained vacant. The central figure had yet to grace the gathering.

With Hu Jinpeng leading, Tang Yue proceeded, occupying the first seat on the left. Suddenly, he felt an array of piercing gazes fixated on him. Their intent was enigmatic.

“This must be the miraculous physician who healed Wang Zizhao’s legs, correct?” A middle-aged man clad in brown queried.

Before Tang Yue could respond, he offered a smile. It was apparent from the man’s countenance that he was State Duke Ann Hu Kun, Hu Jinpeng’s father, and Wang Zizhao’s uncle.

“I wouldn’t dare to claim the title of a divine healer. I’m Tang Yue. I extend my greetings to State Duke.”

“Given your youth and promise, Tang Shoucheng must be proud of having a son like you!” State Duke Ann’s words seemed to ease the tension in the hall. The atmosphere appeared less grave than before.

Tang Yue expressed gratitude for the compliment, scanning the room briefly. In doing so, his eyes met Zhao Sanlang’s gaze. They exchanged a knowing glance, but no formal greeting was exchanged.

Due to the formal nature of the event, Zhao Sanlang could only sit behind State Protector, lacking even a proper seat. Beside him sat a young man who bore a resemblance to him, likely his elder brother.

Tang Yue couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance between the young man and State Protector. Their features and demeanor were so similar, as though they had been cast from the same mold. Clearly, a father and son pairing.

It became evident why Zhao Sanlang played second fiddle to this elder brother in the family. He was the epitome of a strict father with a lackluster son, a second-generation official idling away. He probably left him to choose an heir but picked someone who could make a difference.

State Duke Heng and his son occupied the second seat. Upon entering the hall, Ping Shun kept his gaze lowered, resembling a bashful chubby boy from next door. Tang Yue surmised that this lad was likely plagued by self-doubt and felt inferior in Jiang Dong’s father’s presence.

State Duke Lu, Xia Kui, was unacquainted to Tang Yue. At first glance, he seemed a scholarly general with a congenial demeanor. Yet, intermittent glances sent shivers down Tang Yue’s spine. His initial impression wasn’t favorable.

The rest, it seemed, were of minor significance, and Tang Yue paid scant attention to them, as he only managed a vague memory of their faces.

“Tang Yue… he certainly possesses some skill.” A peculiar voice sounded from the side. Tang Yue turned to find Third Prince, someone he had encountered previously.

Who in this world held the most affinity for him? Third Prince undoubtedly ranked among the top three. His successful treatment of Wang Zizhao’s leg had undoubtedly hindered Tang Yue’s quest for the position.

Tang Yue’s perspective held that Wang Zixian, aside from his sleight of hand, lacked the demeanor befitting a ruler. His countenance bore an air of perpetual gloom. If he were to ascend the throne, tyranny might well become his legacy.

“I’m grateful for your kind words, Third Prince,” Tang Yue responded earnestly.

As Tang Yue’s gaze was about to shift, he noticed a servant kneeling at the side with a wine jug, attempting to pour wine for Wang Zixian. Nervousness got the best of him, causing a few drops to stain Wang Zixian’s attire.

“You useless servant!” Wang Zixian’s frigid snort was punctuated by the unsheathing of his sword, thrusting it into the servant’s chest.

Blood sprayed forth, some landing on Tang Yue’s face. An unpleasant scent filled the air.

“…” He clenched his fists tightly, powerless to intervene as the gruesome scene played out. He hadn’t even the opportunity to prevent it.

A heavy silence settled over the hall. Onlookers’ gazes swept over the event. Yet, in just a glance, their eyes shifted elsewhere, as if they hadn’t witnessed a thing.

“Aren’t you a godly doctor? Save him, haha. Hahaha…”

The sound of piercing laughter shattered Tang Yue’s thoughts. He pinched his thigh, his lips pursed, and he rose from his seat. Striding toward the young man lying in a pool of blood.

Wang Zixian’s laughter came to an abrupt halt. All eyes shifted back to Tang Yue, their curiosity piqued.

Tang Yue knelt down, ripping a strip from his garment and pressing it onto the patient’s chest. He checked the man’s breath and carotid pulse. As he felt the weak, rhythmic thump under his touch, Tang Yue’s mind plunged back to the emergency room.

Every patient sent from the Emergency Department had begun a perilous journey. Some even ceased to breathe en route. Whenever Tang Yue faced such a case, his heart climbed into his throat.

There was a common belief that doctors, accustomed to life and death, became numb to mortality. Yet, with every life lost under his care, Tang Yue still felt something.

“Brother Hu, swiftly fetch the medical kit from my carriage,” Tang Yue implored, a trace of urgency in his voice.

“Certainly, I’ll go myself,” Hu Jinpeng responded, striding out with determined steps. He puzzled over his own keenness to save a slave.

Comforting Tang Xiaolang was uncalled for. He was merely a family servant. His passing was insignificant. Such an ordeal didn’t warrant so much effort.

Tang Yue examined the wound and found it hadn’t pierced the heart. Moreover, the blade hadn’t fully traversed the man’s body. A sigh of relief escaped him, unheard by onlookers.

Yet, the blood coursed rapidly from the patient’s wound. His body convulsed, his eyes rolled back. Leaning close, Tang Yue whispered, “Hold on. You’re not beyond saving. With me here, you’ve naught to fear…”

Hu Jinpeng’s return was swift. Tang Yue opened the medical kit, using a cotton swab to clear blood from the wound. He cleansed it with water, then sutured it, sprinkling hemostatic powder before gauze dressing. His speed was astonishing, leaving spectators agog.

“Can he be saved?” A deep voice echoed from above. Tang Yue paused, glancing up. “Yes, he can be saved!”

Duke Ann of the State wrinkled his brow slightly, querying, “Mere sutures will suffice to treat him?”

Amidst lingering blood stains on his hands, Tang Yue squatted, offering a smile as he explained, “It’s not quite so straightforward. We must assess the extent of his injury. The Third Prince’s strike was impulsive. His accuracy was lost, sparing his vital organs. Otherwise, saving him would have been exceedingly challenging.”

State Duke Ann, noting the levity despite the situation, was inclined to believe him, albeit partially. “If that’s the case, the battlefield will prove tough. Missing a cure can lead to countless lives lost.”

On the battlefield, the enemy’s thrust could stab the chest or sever limbs; a fate of abandonment. All these lives!

State Duke Heng knelt beside the injured man, gauging his breathing, and sighed, “Unfortunately, not all of South Jin’s herbalists boast Nephew Tang’s prowess. One individual’s strength might rescue a few, but not the thousands or tens of thousands on the battlefield.”

“State Duke Heng is right. Why not discuss today how we can afford our soldiers a chance at life on the battlefield!” A voice emerged from behind, clearing the path as the crowd shifted. Tang Yue turned to observe a handsome youth clad in black, walking toward them.

Tang Yue saw him standing erect for the first time. Exuding vitality, he appeared as a drawn blade, sharp but not arrogant.