Chapter 80

Huo Jilin wasn't looking to consult Imperial Physician He about some hidden ailment like Chen Jue thought—he had a different question to ask.

Imperial Physician He spoke up first: "Boss Huo, are you really serious about letting young Doctor Chen be my last disciple?"

Huo Jilin gave a slight smile. Imperial Physician He was still suspicious, thinking he might be trying to secretly block the whole thing.

Which made sense—in this dynasty, hardly any man let his spouse be out in the open like that.

Huo Jilin turned serious and looked at Imperial Physician He: "You've seen it yourself—Chen Jue is obsessed with medicine, day and night. He's the most naturally gifted medical student I've ever come across. Because of his background, he grew up in a Taoist temple, picking up a little of this and that from his masters, but nothing systematic. I'm sure you wouldn't want to see talent like that go to waste without proper, orthodox training, right?"

Huo Jilin meant every word—he wasn't just spouting high-minded talk to win Imperial Physician He over.

If he wanted to win someone over, he could do it without saying a single wasted word.

But he wanted Imperial Physician He to teach Chen Jue sincerely—for the sake of passing on the medical tradition, not for any other reason.

He'd looked into Imperial Physician He's situation before asking him to attend Chen Jue's childbirth—turns out the man had no disciples. The medical officers who trained under him in the palace didn't count. Outside the palace, he'd only taught his own son, back when he was young.

He hadn't even taught his grandchildren. He didn't want his kids and grandkids ending up as palace physicians.

That's the mindset you get from spending years inside the palace.

Serving a king is like sleeping next to a tiger.

It wasn't that he didn't want to train his grandchildren into master physicians—he just didn't dare anymore.

Families of imperial physicians were tied to serving the emperor.

So if he didn't want his medical skills to die with him, the odds of him taking Chen Jue as his last disciple were pretty high.

Sure enough, Huo Jilin's words left Imperial Physician He quiet for a moment—he was mulling it over.

Imperial Physician He looked down at the notes Chen Jue had written and let out a soft sigh.

To be honest, he'd genuinely developed a real appreciation for talent.

He'd regretted from the start that Chen Jue was a gē'er. If he'd been a man, with accomplishments like that, how incredible would that have been?

He could've easily made the cut as an imperial physician.

It wasn't that gē'er couldn't become imperial physicians—there were a few gē'er medical officers in the palace right now—but their skills weren't anywhere near as advanced. Not because they weren't smart, but because they got way too little training.

Family knowledge was passed down to the men; gē'er were at the very bottom of the ladder. Families that let them learn even a little medicine were already pretty amazing. Regular folks had zero access.

Besides, there were only a handful of big medical families, and they never lacked male heirs—so why hand the knowledge down to a gē'er? There were way more female medical officers than gē'er ones.

His mind wandered—he'd been an imperial physician his whole life, and yet he could never shake the palace from his thoughts.

Chen Jue was already a married gē'er. No matter how talented he was, he could never set foot in the palace now. So since Chen Jue was capable enough, and Huo Jilin was fine with his spouse working out in the open, he'd take him on as his last disciple.

He was pushing seventy. Sure, his medical training had kept him in good shape, but he was already up there in years. He'd lost who knows how many friends already, and he had no idea when his own time would come.

He had kids and grandkids—more than one. His eldest son had studied medicine under him, but he didn't have the natural talent. He was a bit clumsy, the type who could only keep things running as they were.

Imperial Physician He gave a helpless little twitch of the lips. It was his own fault—in the palace, he'd been careful with every step, and so when it came to teaching his son, he'd never dared let him take big strides. So his son could only clumsily keep things as they were, and he'd failed the imperial physician exam.

Back then, he might've felt regret, but in the years after, he was grateful his son was so clumsy.

Because the palace ate people alive.

His son's honest, straightforward nature just wasn't suited for surviving in a place like that. Any moment, he could offend some noble. Every birth of a little prince, princess, or young lord came with blood.

Treat them well, and it was just doing your duty—maybe a reward if the emperor was happy. But mess up even once, and the whole Imperial Medical Institute might be buried right along with the patient. This old body of his had never once stood up straight in the palace.

Imperial physicians sounded all high and mighty to outsiders, but in the palace, it was a job where your head was on the chopping block at all times. Especially now, with the emperor's health getting worse by the day, living on alchemical pills, you never knew when...

Imperial Physician He closed his eyes and silently chanted, "Forgive me, Your Majesty, forgive me."

To have made it out and retired safely was already a blessing from his ancestors. He absolutely could not speak carelessly.

He already had one foot in the grave and had made his peace with life and death. But His Majesty hadn't.

Ten years ago, the emperor started taking elixirs, but his health just kept getting worse. Especially in the last few years, he'd pass out every now and then—his body was completely hollowed out. No amount of pills could hold him together. How could the Imperial Medical Institute, which His Majesty had abandoned long ago, possibly pull off a miracle?

With that thought, Imperial Physician He asked hesitantly, "Boss Huo, I have to ask—does that cordyceps you mentioned really have the power to bring the dying back?"

Huo Jilin's eyelids twitched. He'd already explained what cordyceps was—a top-tier tonic. But all tonics worked slowly and gently; none of them could bring the dead back. Even thousand-year ginseng couldn't, let alone some little cordyceps.

Imperial Physician He knew that perfectly well, yet he still asked. Which meant he was asking for someone else. For a veteran imperial physician who'd served thirty years in the palace to ask that, the identity of that someone went without saying.

A few days back, when Huo Jilin visited Wanchun Hall, he'd run into Dong Yuqing, the current owner, who'd come down from the capital. Dong was over the moon about his cordyceps and let it slip that everyone in the palace was using it now.

Put two and two together, and that person was the current emperor.

Huo Jilin had figured it out, but he played dumb, saying calmly, "Doctor He, I never talk big in front of you. Cordyceps isn't a medicine—it's an edible tonic. Take it regularly over the years, and your health will be better than most, and it definitely extends your life. But it'll never bring someone back from the brink of death. Those are two completely different things."

Even in later generations, how many people made it to a hundred? In this era, dying at sixty was totally normal—even more so for an emperor.

Being emperor was no easy gig. When you're young, you want to do great things, and it wears you out—mind and body. With three palaces, six courts, and seventy-two consorts, it was a wonder the body didn't give out sooner.

By middle age, with four grown princes, each eyeing the throne like hungry wolves, suspicion took root. He couldn't sleep well, and trapped in endless nightmares, he turned to alchemical pills, chasing immortality.

So a vicious cycle took hold. Making it to sixty was already no small feat. His whole body was held together by heavy metals—a bow stretched to its breaking point. No miracle drug could save him now.

Even if one existed, nobody would offer it up. Nobody wanted to lose their head or drag their whole clan down with them.

If you could bring the emperor back, it'd be a glorious achievement—honoring your ancestors and lifting up the whole family. But if the treatment failed and he got worse, it'd be a catastrophe—execution for nine generations of your family.

The medicines offered to the emperor had to be mild tonics—things that wouldn't make him worse, but wouldn't cure him fast either.

That's why Dong Yuqing dared to offer up cordyceps. If cordyceps were a medicine—a strong one—the Dong family never would've presented it.

The Dong family had dozens of people, and they were nothing but ants in the emperor's eyes.

Imperial Physician He sighed at Huo Jilin's bluntness. He knew—how could a physician not know? A person's lifespan was set. When your time came, even immortals couldn't turn fate around.

Imperial Physician He nodded. "This old man was overthinking things."

Huo Jilin asked offhandedly, "Doctor He, are you worried about His Majesty's health?"

This was the thing he'd wanted to talk to Imperial Physician He about in private.

He also wanted to know when the emperor was going to kick the bucket.

And once he was gone, who'd be the next heir?

Until the crown prince actually took the throne, Huo Jilin couldn't afford to make his move.

He needed to get a definitive answer.

Imperial Physician He's eyelids twitched, his gaze cutting sharply to Huo Jilin.

Huo Jilin let him stare, his face utterly unreadable, that cold, hard face showing nothing—like he was just asking out of pure curiosity.

Imperial Physician He asked, "How do you know?"

And why had he so casually said 'His Imperial Majesty'? After all, the locals here wouldn't even dare mention the county magistrate in casual talk.

Huo Jilin just gave a faint smile: "Imperial Physician He served in the capital for thirty years, looking after the Emperor's health the whole time. The Emperor's health has always been in your hands. The only person who could still worry you two years after retirement has to be the Emperor."

With that flattery laid on thick, even if Imperial Physician He had his doubts, he couldn't say a word. He studied Huo Jilin's chiseled face, calm and utterly devoid of fear or any other emotion, and thought: this guy is either a reckless fool who fears nothing, thinking the emperor's too far away to matter, or someone so deep that no one can read him.

Imperial Physician He had guessed right, partially. Huo Jilin was from a later era, where there were no rigid hierarchies—or if there were, he'd long been at the top, looking down on everyone. His naturally casual tone sounded 'cocky' to Imperial Physician He, yet Huo Jilin's behavior didn't match that at all. So Imperial Physician He stared at him, thinking Huo Jilin was someone who hid his depth, a man of deep schemes.

He figured he should've known long ago that Huo Jilin was no small fish in a small pond, and couldn't be boxed in by this tiny mountain village.

Though he didn't know Huo Jilin's background, there had been a prominent Huo family in the capital over twenty years ago.

Back then, Imperial Physician He was just a nobody at the Imperial Medical Institute, never treating the Crown Prince or the Empress, so he never got tangled up in the Crown Prince's faction's power struggles, and didn't know the Huo family's connections.

Later, the Emperor flew into a rage and exiled the whole Huo family without executing them—because the Crown Prince hadn't been deposed. But no one was allowed to mention them again.

People the Emperor forbade mentioning were naturally never brought up by anyone who valued their life. So over the years, the Huo family—the former General of the North's household—gradually faded from memory.

Imperial Physician He, just a lowly physician at the Imperial Medical Institute, only knew so much. So even though he suspected Huo Jilin's identity, it just crossed his mind before he let it go.

The survival rule he'd learned in those thirty years of service was: know nothing, ask nothing, see little, think less.

So Imperial Physician He stopped mulling over Huo Jilin's background and focused on what was in front of him. Since Huo Jilin had asked why, he shared the worries that had been eating at him lately.

He'd thought retiring to this place—with its pretty mountains and streams, tucked against big peaks—would let him live out his remaining years in peace.

Who could've imagined war would break out again not long ago, with the battlefield less than a thousand li away?

Who'd have thought those Northern Yuan Tartars could push to within three hundred li of the capital?

It was absolutely insane.

So Imperial Physician He, who'd spent his whole career in the palace walking on eggshells, worried every day that war might break out again.

But he couldn't say that outright. So he beat around the bush with Huo Jilin: "I worry about the capital. In these troubled times, His Majesty really needs to take care of his health."

Huo Jilin raised an eyebrow slightly. Imperial Physician He was still playing it too safe. What he meant was the same as what Huo Jilin meant—he also cared about when the Emperor would die.

Though he wasn't sure if the physician wanted the Emperor dead or wanted him to hang on a few more days, the meaning was the same. He just wanted things to settle down.

Whether the Emperor's health stabilized, or he died and the Crown Prince took over, bringing decades of peace—

Either was better than this current state of not knowing when the sword above your head might drop, living in constant fear.

Funny enough, Huo Jilin felt the same way.

Except he wanted the latter. He wanted the old Emperor to step down early.

Once the Crown Prince took the throne, he could move freely on what came next.

He'd already stabilized the battlefield, captured the Crown Prince of Northern Yuan alive, and taken down the Third Prince. If the Crown Prince still didn't step up, that would be pure filial stupidity.

Huo Jilin thought grimly.

Over this time, he'd also studied the history and laws of the whole Daliang Dynasty.

Great Liang still followed traditional Confucian principles—as long as the legitimate eldest son didn't screw up badly, he wouldn't be arbitrarily deposed. It wasn't like the later Qing Dynasty, where nine princes fought for the throne, with two depositions and two restorations, eventually inherited by a Yongzheng of dubious lineage, followed by a Qianlong Emperor whose bloodline was even murkier.

The Han people valued bloodline above all else.

This was also why the Third Prince had colluded with foreign enemies and tried to storm the palace recently.

The Third Prince saw the Emperor failing but refusing to change the succession edict, so he took a desperate gamble.

It wasn't entirely reckless—if he and his comrades hadn't shown up, and that northwest battle had been lost, the Third Prince would've used that as leverage and maybe taken the throne.

After all, the Third Prince's mother was a Noble Consort, and his maternal grandfather was the Marquis of Zhenbei, who held military power.

That was also one reason the war had gone so badly before he transmigrated—too few troops, too little equipment.

No reinforcements; the truly elite troops were at the border, and even if called, they couldn't get there in time.

The letter didn't dare describe the Third Prince's downfall in detail, but Huo Jilin could piece it together with a little thought.

Emperors throughout history were naturally paranoid and wouldn't tolerate a challenge—even from their own sons.

Now this Emperor was nearing his end. Though he desperately searched for the secret to immortality, he knew his time was short. Hence his fury at the Third Prince, who had rebelled to hasten his death—the throne must never be coveted.

The Emperor deposed his favorite consort and his favorite prince.

Despite the support of the Noble Consort and her family, the Grand General's mansion of Zhenyuan, the Third Prince failed in his bid for the throne.

The crime of colluding with foreign enemies was too serious—he was completely barred from the throne.

This was info Huo Jilin had gotten through secret letters with his comrades.

Chang Xianbin had finally been promoted to Deputy General of Valor, working under the Grand General of Valor. A deputy general could get some reliable intel.

But that wasn't nearly enough.

Even if the death knell rang in the capital, he wouldn't hear it—three hundred li away.

Huo Jilin took a slow breath. Well, even if the Crown Prince did end up taking the throne, it didn't matter much.

Though he wanted the Crown Prince to succeed, he didn't expect much from him. This Crown Prince had held the position for thirty years without a single achievement, just cowering to survive under the Emperor.

Back then, the Huo family had been scared to death after being exiled for their ties to the Crown Prince's faction. These years, they'd been overly cautious, never daring to show their faces. No allies at court, no generals in the army—the Emperor no longer suspected them, but what good did that do?

If the Third Prince hadn't been deposed this time, even if he'd become Emperor, he couldn't have held the throne.

Huo Jilin flicked a speck of dust off his clothes and stopped dwelling on the capital. It was his old habit acting up—caring too much about current affairs. Now he was just a commoner, and he and Chen Jue could just live a good life in this small mountain village.

The most important thing now was seeing his child be born.

He had to make sure Chen Jue delivered safely.