RYEY – Chapter 213 So He Was a Cousin-Uncle

Not long after Cheng Liguo finished taking the health-preserving pills, he made another trip to the latrine. When he came back this time, the color in his face already looked much better.

Because Ye Jun often prepared nourishing medicinal dishes for himself, after taking the pills he only felt a warm sensation spreading through his body, with no other unusual reactions.

“Qiao girl, don’t give this kind of thing to just anyone.”

“Mm, I know. Other than my mother-in-law, Li Huan, and Xuhui’s grandma, plus you and my dad, I haven’t given it to anyone else.”

Ye Jun nodded, then suddenly thought of his cousin in Huizhou and couldn’t help saying:

“When you have time, make some more and send a portion to Ye Chengying. I’ll write a letter and put it inside. But this time, I’ll have to take the credit—just say I made them.”

Cheng Qiao understood that her master was protecting her. If her master were the one to make the pills, Ye Chengying would never doubt it. After all, as a legitimate son from a medical family, how could he lack real skill?

“Master, there are thirty health-preserving pills here. I’ll give them all to you.”

A large wooden box instantly appeared in Cheng Qiao’s hands. All these boxes had been custom-made for her by Uncle Niu—hundreds of them in various sizes. Uncle Niu had been so happy with the work that his craftsmanship had become even more refined.

“So beautiful wooden boxes—very nice.”

“Master, I want to give you a gift. A very precious gift.”

Seeing Cheng Qiao suddenly turn serious, Ye Jun couldn’t help but feel anticipation. What kind of gift could make the little girl act so solemn?

“Look, it’s this.”

A small, exquisitely made porcelain jar appeared in Cheng Qiao’s hand. Ye Jun took it and opened the lid, and a hard-to-describe vitality rushed straight to his nose.

His heart jolted. Carefully tilting the jar, a golden-yellow pill—about the size of a chicken egg—fell into his palm.

“Qiao girl, you… you… you even managed to make the Soul-Stabilizing Pill.”

Ye Jun was overwhelmed with both surprise and joy. He had tried countless times himself, always falling just a little short. Watching his precious medicinal materials dwindle, he had ultimately given up, unable to bear using them anymore.

“Qiao girl, thank you, Master thanks you. Thank you for making the Soul-Stabilizing Pill. This is the lifelong effort of our family’s ancestors. I thought that…”

“Master, because the materials were limited, I only made three. One is for you, one I want to give to my dad, and the last one I’ll keep for myself.”

Cheng Qiao explained her plan. Ye Jun nodded repeatedly. Cheng Liguo was determined to go to the Hexi Corridor to plant trees and control desertification. That place was close to the Qilian Mountains—who knew when danger might arise?

As for Cheng Qiao keeping one for herself, that was only right. She was the one who made them—why shouldn’t she keep one?

“Qiao girl, I’m on duty today. Tomorrow we’ll go up the mountain together to look for medicinal herbs. I remember there’s one called Qilin Resurrection Grass, which grows deep in the mountains and is extremely rare. I don’t know if we’ll be able to find it.”

“Mm. I’ll have the red-headed pit viper help search—it’ll be much safer that way. Oh right, Master, I also took in a haidongqing. We can release it then to keep watch for us.”

Ye Jun: “…”

He didn’t want to talk to this disciple anymore. What kind of immortal-level apprentice was this? Oh right—maybe he should send the Soul-Stabilizing Pill he’d just received to Ye Chengying. At the very least, it could buy Cheng Qiao an extra layer of protection.

After resting for two days, Cheng Liguo put on the cotton-lined fur hat and gloves Cheng Qiao had prepared for him. His calves were bound with wraps, he wore high-top rubber shoes padded with cotton, carried a back basket, and brought a firewood-chopping knife as he followed Cheng Qiao and the others toward the back mountain.

At the foot of the mountain, a man was also carrying a back basket, rummaging through the snow in search of dry branches. From time to time, he looked up and stared in the direction of Cheng Qiao’s home.

When he saw a figure that was both familiar and unfamiliar, he knew Brother Niu hadn’t lied to him. His own relatives really had come—it was just uncertain whether Cheng Liguo still acknowledged the Zhao family.

“Brother Guoliang, how have you been?”

At a glance, Cheng Liguo recognized the man before him. He was Zhao Guoliang, the cousin of his brother-in-law Zhao Hui. Although Old Master Zhao had once published a newspaper notice cutting all ties with Zhao Min, Zhao Guoliang had still visited Zhao Min back then.

“Liguo, it really is you. How did your hair turn white? You’re only in your forties.”

“And yours is white too. We’re about the same.”

“I’m sorry. In the end, the Zhao family still dragged you down.”

“Haha. Misfortune is where fortune rests, and fortune is where misfortune lies. I was implicated and suffered greatly, yes—but the opportunities I gained were immense. I don’t regret it.”

“Well said—‘I don’t regret it.’ You’re a real man.”

“Cheng Qiao, come—let me introduce you. This is your elder uncle, Zhao Guoliang.”

“Hello, Uncle.”

Zhao Guoliang smiled. He had always felt Cheng Qiao resembled someone, and now he finally understood—she looked just like his cousin Zhao Min. How could he have been so foolish not to realize it earlier?

“Hello, niece. If Xiaobao and Xiaobei knew they were your cousins, they’d be overjoyed. But for safety’s sake, I don’t want you to acknowledge each other just yet.”

Cheng Qiao nodded. Zhao Xiaobao was indeed rather impulsive. If Qian Longkun hadn’t been by his side protecting him, he would probably have given himself away long ago—and if that happened, both he and Zhao Xiaobei would end up being sent to the rear courtyard to ‘accompany’ their parents.

“Since you’re my uncle, then come back again at this time tomorrow. I’ll give you some supplies. Li Huan is the village head now—there shouldn’t be anyone deliberately making things hard for you.”

Zhao Guoliang shook his head. The villagers mostly just kept their distance; it hadn’t reached the point of bullying. But the couple living under the same roof was a different story.

Zhu Qingde was tolerable—his actions were at least presentable. But his wife, Yuan Mengzhi, perhaps because of the sudden misfortune, had grown twisted in her mindset. Whenever she saw others living a better life than hers, she would make snide, sarcastic remarks.

If Cheng Qiao provided supplies again, it might stir up trouble. It would be better to stay in step with them, even deliberately appear poorer in front of Yuan Mengzhi.

Cheng Qiao nodded in understanding. Perhaps staples like rice, flour, and oil couldn’t be given openly, but malted milk powder, pastries, and some beef jerky could still be provided. Those could be eaten inside the house, and no one would know.

Cheng Liguo nodded as well. Recently, Xiao Aiqin’s health had declined badly. A little cold would trigger coughing and colds, especially at night, when she would cough endlessly.

“Cheng Qiao, if it’s convenient, could you get some cough medicine for your aunt—no, for my wife? Fever medicine would be fine too.”

Cheng Qiao agreed. They set another meeting for the same time the next day. By then, she would bring two down-filled vests—warm when worn underneath and not easy for others to notice.

She would also prepare some food, drink, and medicine. After all, he was her mother’s cousin—blood relatives connected by bone and sinew. No matter what, they had to be looked after.