Chapter Eight: The Pillar of the Medicine King

After ensuring Chen Yushu was properly settled, Chen Baihe, though reluctant, turned and left decisively without lingering.

At that moment, under Steward Zhou’s guidance, Chen Yushu was led to a room in the rear courtyard. Taking out a register and brush, he began to record information, asking, “What is your name? Where are you from? Who are your parents and family members? List them all.”

“Chen Yushu, from Beijiao Village, parents…” Chen Yushu knew this was for registration—it meant he was officially being recognized as a member of the Liu Family Apothecary. Even as just an apprentice, it was still a formal acceptance, so he answered every question earnestly without the slightest negligence.

After Steward Zhou finished recording and cross-checking the details with what he knew, he nodded slightly, then his expression grew stern as he spoke. “Our Liu Family Apothecary’s main shop is in the county. Though this is only a branch, it carries weight in this town. Since your father has presented a precious medicinal root, we will, of course, follow the rules and admit you. Entering the apothecary is easy, but once inside, you must learn the rules. Don’t think that just because of that precious ginseng, you can act recklessly. You must clearly understand what you should and should not do. Otherwise, just as we accepted you, we can dismiss you. Don’t let your father’s efforts go to waste.”

“Thank you for your reminder, Steward Zhou. I understand,” Chen Yushu replied, nodding. He was well aware of the value of that precious medicine—if sold, it could have greatly improved his family’s circumstances. Were it not for his parents’ love and high hopes for him, they would never have parted with it to secure him a place here. He was determined not to disappoint them.

“It’s good that you understand.” Steward Zhou nodded. “Come, I’ll have someone show you around so you can get familiar with the apothecary.”

With that, he stood up and led the way out of the room.

“Steward Zhou, I heard that after becoming an apprentice here, one is allowed to learn martial arts. May I also study martial arts now?” Chen Yushu hesitated, but could not suppress the eagerness in his heart and asked urgently.

He yearned for martial arts, especially after his recent encounters with spirits, which left him feeling deeply insecure. Naturally, he wanted to learn self-defense as soon as possible.

“You’re certainly impatient,” Steward Zhou replied with a smile. “The value of precious medicine is not merely for the chance to be an apprentice. The reason so many people are willing to offer such treasures is because our apothecary teaches martial arts. Apprentices do have work to do, so there isn’t endless time for training. However, those who enter by presenting precious medicine are given three days of martial arts lessons, with a bowl of nourishing decoction each day as compensation. After three days, whether you have mastered the basics or not, you must begin working. If you haven’t learned enough, you’ll have to wait until the end of each month, when a master arrives to teach.”

At this, Chen Yushu’s eyes lit up. He could learn martial arts! And he had three days dedicated to study. Moreover, at the end of every month, instructors would come to teach again. He didn’t know what kind of martial arts would be taught, but the anticipation filled him with excitement.

“By the way, you’re literate, aren’t you? Then I can give you this manual directly so you can familiarize yourself with it. But don’t try to practice on your own—without a master’s guidance, you won’t be able to match the breathing and movements correctly. You might even harm yourself.”

With that, Steward Zhou handed him a manual, then walked out and called to someone nearby, “Li Hu, this is the new apprentice. Show him around.”

Chen Yushu accepted the manual, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“The ‘King of Medicine Stance’—a martial arts manual!”

He hadn’t expected the martial arts he’d longed for to fall into his hands so easily.

—

“At last, I can learn martial arts,” Chen Yushu thought to himself, lying on his bed, exhilarated.

He was in a rather shabby room—one long bed, shared by seven people from head to foot, a genuine communal dormitory. The Liu Family Apothecary, renowned as one of the most prominent in town, had far more apprentices than he’d imagined—over thirty. There were three apprentice dormitories like his, though the other two were somewhat better, more spacious and well-lit, even though they were also crowded.

His own room housed only those who had entered within the past half year. For instance, the apprentice Li Hu, who slept beside him, had only joined a month earlier; the one who had been there longest, Xu Hao, had been there six months. Some apprentices who’d been here longer, or who had extra money or were locals, lived outside the apothecary.

The Liu Family Apothecary did not forbid apprentices from renting rooms elsewhere. As long as one showed up for work on time, there were no restrictions on their movements.

“That’s even better. Once I have enough money, I can live outside too,” Chen Yushu thought with some relief. Living with so many others was inconvenient, but with only the three taels of silver—three hundred copper coins—his father had left him, he had no other choice. After all, this place was free.

He examined the martial arts manual—the “King of Medicine Stance.” As the name implied, it was a stance-based technique, containing thirty-six postures, each with corresponding movements and breathing methods. Mastery required matching actions and breath perfectly, flowing seamlessly from one form to the next.

Out of curiosity, Chen Yushu had tried practicing, but every attempt ended in failure. He couldn’t even manage the first posture. Though his movements were precise, whenever he tried the prescribed breathing method, he felt a discomfort as if submerged and suffocating, unable to breathe. Soon, his form would collapse.

He’d asked Li Hu about this, and was told that true mastery would be accompanied by a tingling sensation, like ants crawling over the body, and would soon leave one breathless and exhausted. Chen Yushu had felt nothing of the sort.

“A manual is just a manual. Without a foundation or understanding of the principles, it’s difficult to master martial arts from a book alone,” Chen Yushu sighed, but he wasn’t worried—he still had three days of martial arts instruction ahead, and, according to Li Hu, the nourishing decoction provided was called Essence Nurturing Soup, a potent tonic for those practicing martial arts, greatly speeding up progress. Its price was high—three taels of silver for a single dose if sold outside.