RYEY – Chapter 69 Capturing a Venomous Snake

Cheng Qiao’s heart trembled—she knew danger was right beside her. If she were alone, she could immediately hide inside her space. But right now, not only was Li Huan here, Uncle Ye was too.

Li Huan’s heart also leapt into his throat. He saw with his own eyes a snake—its head glowing with a vivid red, irregular black spots scattered across its body—a red-headed viper, slowly coiling down from the branches above Cheng Qiao’s head.

The venom of the red-headed viper was extremely potent, attacking both the nervous system and cardiovascular system. If bitten and not treated in time, one could be crippled—or even killed.

Li Huan’s eyes darted around and spotted a thick branch near his feet. He slowly crouched, intending to pick it up and strike the snake, but was immediately stopped by Uncle Ye’s low, urgent whisper.

The snake’s eyes, it turned out, weren’t on Cheng Qiao—it was staring intently at the bright red fruit growing at the tree’s root. Anything guarded by a red-headed viper had to be an extraordinary treasure.

Uncle Ye’s face flushed. Just moments ago, Cheng Qiao had promised that if they found another wild ginseng, it would be his. He had bitterly smiled at the time—how could wild ginseng be found so easily?

And now, one had indeed appeared. But it was something even the venomous snake coveted, and Cheng Qiao was caught in danger. Even the slightest stir of the wind or grass could trigger the snake’s attack.

From the corner of her eye, Cheng Qiao not only saw the snake but also spotted the ginseng below the tree. She thought—if only she could take the snake into her space, then she’d be safe, and Uncle Ye would also get the ginseng.

A fishy stench reached her nose. Then, Uncle Ye’s disbelieving voice rang out, as if his very soul were questioning: “The snake—where did it go?”

Li Huan nearly wet his pants. He had been staring at the snake without blinking, thinking of ways to drive it off. Yet in the blink of an eye, the snake vanished right under his nose.

Oh—that’s right. His wife was a fairy. How had he forgotten? For a fairy to subdue a poisonous snake—it was nothing at all.

Uncle Ye glanced at the calm Cheng Qiao, then at the flustered-but-quickly-steady-again Li Huan. He felt suspicion rise in his heart but wisely kept his mouth shut.

“What’s wrong, Uncle Ye? Was there a snake? Where?”

Cheng Qiao felt awkward—she hadn’t expected her space to be so obedient, instantly swallowing the snake. Helpless, she could only play dumb.

“I saw wrong. It was just a tree branch. I thought it was a snake.”

“Oh, I see. Well, it really did look like one.”

Cheng Qiao glanced up at the place where the viper had just been. Cold sweat dripped down her back. She didn’t know if Uncle Ye suspected her—if he did, she wouldn’t be able to explain even with a hundred mouths.

“Uncle Ye, this belongs to you.”

Cheng Qiao turned, squatted before the ginseng, and smiled as she spoke.

Uncle Ye’s heart surged with excitement, the snake long forgotten. After a long while of careful digging, he finally unearthed the ginseng intact.

“Tell me, do you want money, ration tickets, or something else?”

Uncle Ye’s smiling face crinkled with wrinkles. Cheng Qiao’s heart stirred—she had always wondered who provided Xu Laidi with her medicine, and where those medicines had come from.

“Uncle Ye, may I take you as my master?”

The words stunned not only Uncle Ye but also left Li Huan uneasy. After all, on the surface Uncle Ye was just Xiangyang Village’s doctor—but in truth, his real identity was tied to the black five [underground connections].

Fortunately, his family background was strong enough for him to use the role of village doctor as cover. Don’t ask how Li Huan knew—he always knew a bit of everything, whether he should or not.

“Cheng Qiao, that wouldn’t be appropriate. Traditional medicine isn’t popular anymore.”

“Wife, maybe ask for something else instead?”

Li Huan and Uncle Ye spoke almost in unison, both aiming to dissuade her impulsive request.

“Li Huan, Uncle Ye—you both remember the time I was poisoned. If I had some medical knowledge, I could have avoided it. Do you really want me to risk going through that again?”

Li Huan’s expression grew heavy. That time, he had been lucky to have Cheng Qiao. If it had been anyone else…he would have gone mad.

“Uncle Ye, count me in too. The two of us will learn together—secretly. We can come at night, or learn while gathering herbs in the mountains.”

“Uncle Ye, I know you’ve never taken an apprentice. But do you really want your skills to die with you? At least give us a trial period.”

Uncle Ye’s lips moved. Indeed, there had been a time he wanted a student, but those who came were either lazy, untalented, or simply uninterested in traditional medicine.

“Li Huan, come by my place tonight. I’ll give you a book. You two will have two days—memorize it from start to finish without a single mistake. If you fail, take back the ginseng—I don’t want it.”

“Deal. I’ll come tonight. And the ginseng—please keep it. One root is enough for us. Having too much will only bring bad luck.”

“Don’t spout nonsense—that’s feudal superstition. If someone hears you, you’ll be in trouble.”

“Got it, Uncle Ye.”

Li Huan quickly cut some wild greens, wrapped the ginseng, tucked it into Uncle Ye’s basket, and covered it with a big bundle of firewood. This way, no one would suspect he had something valuable.

The group descended the mountain swiftly, then parted ways to their own homes. As they reached the doorstep, Li Huan whispered into Cheng Qiao’s ear: “Don’t tell anyone about the ginseng.”

Cheng Qiao nodded—anyone, including her mother-in-law and sister-in-law. He was right; telling would only bring harm, never good. She nodded firmly and slipped the ginseng into her space.

But she didn’t know—when the ginseng entered the black soil of the space, the red-headed viper shifted from panic to delight and lunged beside it. Yet, once it saw the ginseng clearly, it actually recoiled in disdain, slithering back two feet.

That night, Li Huan went to Uncle Ye’s home to collect the medical book. Cheng Qiao stayed in the kitchen. Taking advantage of the empty house, she moved all the wild fruits from her space into a large basin to soak, preparing to make jam.

Under the dim, flickering oil lamp, Mother Li watched the busy silhouette and smiled, shaking her head before going to her room to sew clothes. Li Huan had given her several pieces of fabric she still hadn’t gotten around to working on.

“Wife, look—can you memorize this book?”

Li Huan returned, holding a thin medical text. Cheng Qiao glanced at it—Tangtou Ge (Song of Decoction Formulae), an essential primer in traditional Chinese medicine. It had to be memorized fluently.

“I can. Tonight this book is mine. Tomorrow it’ll be yours.”

“You can memorize it in one night?”

Li Huan asked, then fell silent. If his wife said she could, then she could. Why bother questioning it?