IDWBE -Chapter 15 Experts Within the Palace

To put it nicely, his features were compact; to put it bluntly, they had never quite grown into place.

He set down his wooden medical chest and immediately knelt. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

His original name was Hu Shilu, but the Prince found it troublesome to say and simply called him “Hulu.”

He had originally been a coachman in the Prince’s residence. Unlike Sun Yi, he also worked part-time as a veterinarian.

Besides tending animals in the residence, he earned extra money outside treating oxen, horses, and donkeys.

Once, a mare in the residence had a difficult labor. Its agonized neighing echoed through the entire manor.

At the time, he had been completely at a loss. The Prince was drawn over by the noise and curiously asked why he didn’t just cut open the horse’s belly.

He suddenly realized—the foal couldn’t be born, and the mare was certain to die. Rather than losing both, why not take the foal out and at least save one life?

He decisively knocked the mare unconscious and pulled the foal out.

What no one expected was that the Prince then ordered him to stitch the mare’s belly back up!

What did that mean?

Before he could react, the Prince had already ordered candles, sewing needles, catgut thread, and white liquor to be prepared.

He dared not disobey. Gritting his teeth, he completed what the Prince called a “surgery.”

Afterward, he only fed the mare water every day. Astonishingly, a week later, the horse was lively and energetic!

The Prince was delighted and told him this was called a “cesarean section.”

He even explained some of the principles behind it in detail. Though Hulu did not fully understand, he vaguely felt he was stepping onto a golden path.

The Prince said that if it worked on livestock, it could also be used on people.

Hulu wouldn’t dare try it on a human. At most, he used this skill to make some money treating animals.

But once, a neighbor rushed to his house in desperation—his wife was in premature labor. It was too late to find a midwife, and the medical officials refused to come without sufficient payment. They begged Hulu to help deliver the baby.

He was just a veterinarian—how could he deliver a human child?

No matter what they said, he refused.

Until they told him: save the child, not the mother.

Especially when the knife was already at his neck.

Only then did he righteously declare that human life was at stake!

He must go. Of course he would go!

In the end, the child survived—and so did the mother.

He discovered that delivering human babies was far easier than delivering livestock. After all, people could understand instructions and cooperate when told to push.

First, he became known in his own alley. Then, after boldly delivering several more babies, he became famous throughout the entire southern district of Ankang City.

There were failures, of course. But to the families, as long as the child who carried on the family line survived, what did it matter if a woman died?

They still cheerfully escorted him to the door afterward, along with generous consultation fees.

Growing bolder, he sought more guidance from the Prince.

This Prince held nothing back in his teachings. The more Hulu learned, the braver he became.

One day, he even had the thought of dissecting a human body.

Frightened by himself, he sincerely confessed this to the Prince.

Unexpectedly, the Prince leapt three feet into the air in delight, praising him: “This small step of yours will be a giant leap for mankind!”

Outside Ankang City, at the mass grave, his busy figure was often seen. The Bureau of Military Affairs frequently sent bodies there—executed bandits, beggars who starved in the streets, abandoned infants from poor families.

There were too many; they couldn’t even be properly buried. Sometimes a tattered straw mat over the body was already considered decent.

Now, in Ankang City, people respectfully called him Physician Hu. Patients came to him in an endless stream—even nobles and high ministers of the court sought him out.

His only misfortune was poor judgment in choosing a wife. He married a woman who loved tugging his ears. No wonder his face never seemed to stretch open properly.

“Get up already. Enough with the formalities. Take a look at him—see if he’s going to die.”

Lin Yi waved impatiently, pointing at Hong Ying.

“Yes.”

Hulu hurriedly stood and walked to Hong Ying’s side, bowing. “Chief Steward Hong, please loosen your clothes.”

Seeing Hong Ying hesitate with his hand on his collar, Lin Yi grew even more impatient. “What are you dawdling for? Hurry up. Just open the clothes at your chest.”

Hong Ying sighed and complied. His chest looked fine—but on his back was a dark purple-black palm print.

Everyone sucked in a sharp breath.

Hulu pressed his ear to Hong Ying’s chest to listen. Then he moved behind him, tapping lightly while listening.

After a long while, he smiled. “Chief Steward Hong is blessed with great fortune.”

Lin Yi asked, “So what’s the situation now?”

Hulu replied, “His lungs are likely swollen—that’s why he keeps coughing up blood. A few doses of medicine, slow recuperation, and he should recover.”

“That’s good.”

Lin Yi quietly let out a breath of relief and nodded. “Prescribe the medicine. For the next few days, don’t go anywhere else. Stay here in case we need you. Hard to find a busy man like you when needed.”

“That won’t do,” Hulu said bitterly. “Your Highness, I have a lioness at home. I truly don’t dare spend the night away.”

“Look at you. You’re an embarrassment to us men,” Song Cheng said disdainfully.

“I don’t possess Shopkeeper Song’s grandeur,” Hulu shot back. He was no longer the easily bullied coachman-veterinarian of the past.

“Enough,” Lin Yi said irritably. “Then stay here during the day and go home at night.”

“Thank you, Your Highness!” Hulu cupped his hands gratefully.

Lin Yi added, “Keep your mouths shut. Hong Ying’s injury must not be spread.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Hulu immediately knelt again. The warning was clearly meant for him.

After rising, he said, “I’ll go prepare the medicine.”

Lin Yi waved him off. Once he left, Lin Yi went to the bedside and examined the palm mark on Hong Ying’s back more closely.

“How much force would that woman need to use? Your ribs nearly caved in. Damn it, she’s a violent maniac.”

“Your Highness, it is my incompetence,” Hong Ying said in shame.

“Who exactly in the Cold Palace could it be? The only one who supposedly knows martial arts is Consort Wen. She should be quite old by now, shouldn’t she?”

No one was allowed to enter or leave the Cold Palace freely except the Emperor and Empress.

But when Lin Yi was young, driven by curiosity, he had climbed over its walls more than once.

There were no more than seven consorts living inside, each with her own charm—he had seen them all.

The one who left the deepest impression was Consort Wen.

Once, while he was perched on the wall, she waved at him with pastries in hand.

He wasn’t afraid. If caught, so what? A child’s mischief—would his father really cut off his head?

Consort Wen had delicate features, not a single wrinkle. He had boldly called her “big sister.”

She had laughed heartily.

When he learned she was nearly seventy years old, his jaw had nearly dropped.

She was kind, and he often visited her. He told her the Earth was round, that the moon didn’t emit its own light, and how to cook delicious dishes.

He even told jokes to cheer up the often melancholy consort.

After exhausting his storytelling repertoire—including tales of Zhen Huan and Mi Yue—Lin Yi gradually grew older.

Though he still lived in the palace, he had moved out of the inner harem to reside near the imperial garden, in quarters reserved for unmarried princes.

Even visiting his own mother required formal notice. As for the Cold Palace, he no longer dared to go freely.

If his imperial father discovered it, he wouldn’t be executed—just severely beaten.

How dare he spy on his father’s women?

Hong Ying said, “I heard that when His Majesty first ascended the throne, he declared that the women in the Cold Palace were pitiable and allowed them to leave the palace and return to their families. Consort Wen was among them. But she refused, saying she had no remaining relatives. Since the Empress Dowager confined her there, she has lived in the Cold Palace for fifty years—growing her own vegetables, cooking her own meals, washing her own clothes, never stepping outside once.”

Lin Yi asked curiously, “Then who do you think it was?”

Hong Ying shook his head. “I was caught off guard and struck from behind. I couldn’t stay long and had no chance to see her face. By the time the palace guards reacted to the commotion, I had already escaped.”

The more he spoke, the more ashamed he felt, his head nearly drooping to his chest.

Lin Yi patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Alright. Focus on recovering. Once you’re healed, we’ll set out.”

Then he had Song Cheng drive him back to the city.

At the wide eastern gate, Shadow Guards were inspecting passersby in broad daylight. Leading them was none other than the Commander of the Shadow Guards, Jiang Zhong.

“They’re called Shadow Guards, yet here they are in broad daylight. Quite the misnomer.”

Lin Yi couldn’t help but complain to Song Cheng.