The sky over Yecheng had been gloomy for seven consecutive days.
Inside the discussion hall of the Governor’s Office, candlelight flickered.
Cheng Ji, the Governor of Yecheng, sat in the primary seat. In his early forties, his temples were already streaked with white, and his deep-set eyes were bloodshot. The desk before him was piled high with urgent reports from various areas, resembling a small mountain.
“Report!”
A Yamen runner stumbled into the hall and fell to his knees, his face pale with terror. “Reporting to the Governor, eleven more bodies have been discovered in the north city. All have dark, bruised faces and are covered in rashes, exactly like those who died before!”
“Another eleven,” Cheng Ji murmured. “Yesterday it was nine, the day before it was seven. It increases day by day!”
Some lowered their heads, while others turned away, none daring to meet the bloodshot gaze of Governor Cheng.
“Where is Medical Official Hua? Did I not tell him to gather all the physicians in the city to discuss a cure?”
“Where is the man? Where is the plan?”
Just as he finished speaking, a middle-aged man in green official robes came crawling and scrambling in.
It was Medical Official Hua of Yecheng.
He was drenched in sweat, his face ashen. He knelt on the floor the moment he entered, his entire body trembling.
“Governor… Governor, I have been consulting day and night with over a dozen physicians in the city. We have… we have scoured the medical texts, but this disease is too fierce and unprecedented. The medicine we administer is like throwing a stone into the ocean; nothing has worked… I… I truly am…”
“Truly a useless waste!”
In a fit of rage, Cheng Ji swept the urgent reports off the desk, the papers fluttering down like snowflakes.
The officials in the hall remained as silent as cicadas in winter.
The Medical Official shuddered, not daring to make another sound.
At that moment.
Another set of hurried footsteps echoed from outside.
A maid ran in, her face deathly pale. “Go… Governor… the Madam… she is not doing well…”
Cheng Ji’s head buzzed, as if he had been struck heavily with a wooden club.
He stood up abruptly.
His chair flipped backward, hitting the floor with a loud bang.
“What happened to the Madam?”
Tears burst from the maid’s eyes. “Just now… just now while the Madam was feeding the young master, she suddenly coughed up blood. I was so frightened that I rushed out to find a physician. The physician said… said the Madam has likely caught the plague as well…”
The faces of everyone in the discussion hall changed.
They all knew the Governor’s wife.
In every year of disaster, this kind-hearted woman would distribute porridge at the city gate. Everyone called her a living Bodhisattva.
Cheng Ji’s eyes turned completely red.
He and his wife had been together since they were young. Hearing this sudden, terrible news, he could no longer maintain his composure.
“Did I not give orders for you to stop her? To keep her from going out? How could she have caught the plague?!”
The maid sobbed, “Governor, please understand, I truly could not stop her! Since the plague broke out, the Madam saw how pitiful the infected were. She took me and secretly went to the clinics to care for the patients.”
She choked on her sobs. “The Madam said she is the Governor’s wife. If she did not go, others would be even more afraid to go to the clinics to care for the sick…”
Everyone instinctively lowered their heads, and some even secretly wiped tears from their eyes with their sleeves.
Madam Ye, born of a scholarly family, was gentle and refined, never raising her voice in public.
Yet, it was such a fragile woman.
Who, while the plague raged and everyone feared for their lives, dared to go to the clinics every day to care for strangers.
In the end, she had fallen victim to it herself.
Ignoring the official business at hand, Cheng Ji almost ran all the way to the bedroom in the rear courtyard.
The room was thick with the scent of medicinal broth. Dim candlelight illuminated a thin figure on the bed.
A gentle-looking woman leaned against the headboard, her face flushed with fever, her lips cracked, and a damp, cold cloth resting on her forehead.
Her coughing was intermittent, and every cough sounded as if it might tear her lungs apart.
Even though she was this ill, her first reaction upon seeing Cheng Ji rush into the room was not to cry or complain, but to frown. “What are you doing here? Get out.”
Cheng Ji turned a deaf ear and strode over.
Seeing this, Ye Qingqing reached out to push him. “Zhongming, this plague is contagious. Stay away from me!”
“You are the backbone of Yecheng. If you fall as well, who will look after the people of this city?”
Cheng Ji wanted to say something. His lips moved, but not a single word came out.
Ye Qingqing looked at him, and a faint light flickered in her eyes, which were watery from the high fever.
“You haven’t rested much these past few days, have you? The dark circles under your eyes are so heavy.” She spoke softly, “I had the kitchen stew a bowl of soup for you. Remember to drink it…”
“Qingqing!”
Cheng Ji interrupted, “Don’t say any more. Focus on getting better. Come, I will help you take your medicine!”
“After you take the medicine, you will get better. You will…”
Ye Qingqing shook her head at him. “Zhongming, you shouldn’t stay here and waste your time on me.”
“The people of Yecheng need you more than I do.”
Hearing this, Cheng Ji’s eyes turned completely bloodshot.
But he did not cry.
He was the Governor of Yecheng; he could not cry. However, as he held his wife’s hand, his knuckles cracked from the force of his grip.
Ye Qingqing raised her hand and patted the back of his.
“Zhongming, go.”
Cheng Ji looked at her, wanting to say “I won’t leave,” “I will stay with you,” and “I’m not going anywhere.”
Yet, he could not say it.
Because his wife was right.
The people of Yecheng needed him more.
Cheng Ji slowly let go of her hand and stood up straight.
When he reached the door, his footsteps paused for a moment. With his back to the bed, he spoke in a raspy voice.
“Qingqing, wait for me to return.”
He did not wait for an answer before stepping out.
Behind him, Ye Qingqing watched his departing figure, a faint smile touching her lips that did not fade for a long time.
This was the Cheng Zhongming she loved.
The candles in the discussion hall burned all night long.
No one spoke, and no one left. Everyone sat in their seats, as silent as a row of tombstones.
As the dawn was just beginning to break.
An official suddenly spoke up. “Governor, I have something to say, though I do not know if it is appropriate.”
Cheng Ji lifted his swollen eyes to look at him.
“Speak.”
The official lowered his voice. “I have heard that a Divine Lady has appeared in Xindu City, and she possesses great powers.”
He paused.
“I was wondering if we should send someone to Xindu to invite that Divine Lady to come and save the people of Yecheng?”
Cheng Ji was silent for a long time.
Finally, he spoke. “If praying to gods were useful, so many people in this world would not die from natural disasters and man-made calamities.”
At this point, he sighed softly. “In this world, there has never been a god who saves.”
“The only ones who can save people are people themselves.”
The sky outside gradually brightened.
The gray light filtered into the discussion hall, shining upon faces that were exhausted and filled with despair.
No one knew.
That at this very moment, a group of healers carrying medicine boxes was walking toward Yecheng, step by step.
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