Married to a Villainous Minister - Chapter 6

Madam Zhang smiled gently and looked at Yu Qizhe with a bit of sympathy. “No need to thank your own family. Hurry and take this to Meng girl.”

Yu Qizhe nodded and walked out. Madam Zhang filled the medicine pot with some water and placed it on the stove to boil, she had to keep the lie going or else the third household might catch her in it.

With the herbs tucked under his arm, Yu Qizhe returned to the east room. Inside, Madam Song was wiping down Yu Mengshan, who was feeling hot in the noon heat. She looked up when she saw Yu Qizhe enter empty-handed and asked, “Where’s the bowl?”

“She hasn’t finished eating yet,” Yu Qizhe replied. Then he started searching the room and found a mortar and pestle, pouring the herbs into the bowl to grind them into powder.

Madam Song quickly finished wiping Yu Mengshan and said, “Why are you grinding the medicine? Don’t overwork yourself, go rest in the room.”

“I’m fine,” Yu Qizhe replied briefly. His elegant fingers gripped the pestle as he carefully began grinding the herbs.

Yu Mengshan recognized the herbs, ones that stopped bleeding, reduced swelling, and treated external wounds. “Are you making medicine for Meng girl?” he asked.

Yu Qizhe didn’t respond, but his silence was enough.

A worried look came over Yu Mengshan’s face. He turned to Madam Song and said, “From what you said earlier, Meng girl’s injuries sound serious. I doubt these external herbs alone will do much.”

“At the table, your father said none of us were allowed to treat her or even feed her,” Madam Song said, while gathering up the soiled underclothes. She looked at Yu Qizhe and added, “Be careful when you deliver the medicine. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Yu Qizhe nodded. Madam Song then collected all the dirty laundry from the household and took it to the village creek to wash.

Yu Qizhe was physically weak. Grinding herbs wasn’t exactly exhausting, but he was already sweating before long. Usually, Yu Mengshan helped the old master prepare medicine, Yu Qizhe had only seen it done a few times and now realized just how much effort it took.

“Why don’t I take over?” Yu Mengshan offered, seeing how much he was struggling.

Yu Qizhe shook his head. After a long while, he finally ground the herbs down, though unevenly. The false daisy was powdered, but the soap leaves were still chunky. He poured the mixture onto some yellow wrapping paper, packed it up, grabbed a bottle of medicinal liquor, and headed to the small shed.

Yu Jiao was lying on the straw pile, bored out of her mind, wondering what her next move should be. When she heard footsteps and the door creaked open, she looked up. 

Her eyes lit up when she saw the medicine in Yu Qizhe’s hand. She smiled brightly and took the packet, saying, “I knew it, you’re a good person, Wu-ge. Good people live long lives!”

She eagerly opened the paper but frowned slightly at the rough, uneven powder. “Did you grind this yourself?”

If someone in her family’s clinic ground medicine like this, they’d have been kicked out long ago.

Yu Qizhe’s eyes narrowed slightly. He frowned and asked coolly, “Is it unusable?”

Realizing her position, Yu Jiao immediately corrected herself. She was at someone else’s mercy now, no place to be picky. She grinned and said, “It’s usable! Same effect anyway. Thank you, Wu-ge.”

Yu Qizhe’s ears turned slightly red. The way she said “Wu-ge” (Fifth Brother, but older) which was a perfectly proper title, somehow sounded… flirty.

He placed the medicine wine down and turned to leave. But Yu Jiao stopped him gently, “Wu-ge, I’ve got broken ribs, so I can’t bend over. Could you help me apply the medicine before you go?”

Yu Qizhe clearly didn’t want to. Her injury was on her leg, and helping her apply medicine might lead to inappropriate contact. But seeing how she truly couldn’t do it herself, he hesitated.

Yu Jiao looked at him with clear, watery almond eyes and a warm smile. Eventually, Yu Qizhe gave in.

“You’re the best,” Yu Jiao said sweetly as he turned back and picked up the medicine wine.

Yu Qizhe gently lifted the bloodied hem of her dress. Her white pants underneath were torn to shreds, and her lower legs were a mess of blood and flesh, he frowned. Third Uncle had clearly gone too far.

He wasn’t sure where to start. Yu Jiao spoke up, “Roll up the pant legs, pour some medicine wine on the wound, then sprinkle the powder.”

Yu Qizhe carefully rolled up her pants. The sight of her wounded legs, layered with cuts and bruises, made him pause. He glanced at her, and she smiled at him calmly. He lowered his gaze. 

This woman… she really had a high pain tolerance. Her legs were so badly beaten, the cloth had embedded into the flesh, and yet she could still smile. 

He couldn’t imagine bearing that kind of pain. Instead of following her instructions, he stood up. “I’ll get a basin of water,” he said and left the room.

Leaning against the wall, Yu Jiao smirked. This Fifth Brother of the Yu family is surprisingly kind. Cold and aloof, yes, but clearly someone who cared. The original Meng Yujiao must’ve been a fool, she thought. Why go chasing someone else when you had a potential husband like this?

Before long, Yu Qizhe returned with a basin of water. He set it by her feet, soaked a cloth, and said, “Bear with it.”

He gently wiped the blood off her legs. Yu Jiao clenched her jaw, her face pale, forehead beaded with sweat from the pain.

Yu Qizhe avoided the worst wounds carefully. Before long, the cloth was soaked red. He rinsed it out, then finished cleaning both her legs. His gaze fell on the deepest wound on her right leg, where the blood-soaked fabric was stuck to a torn flesh.

Tearing it off would be excruciating.

Yu Jiao saw him hesitate and took a steady breath. “It’s fine. I’m not afraid of pain. Just tear it off.”

Yu Qizhe doubted she truly didn’t feel pain. Even a man would be howling from these wounds. Yet she hadn’t made a sound when he touched her injuries earlier.

So, he did it, pulling the cloth free from her flesh. Yu Jiao let out a muffled cry, sweat pouring down her face. She bit her lip so hard it bled, her face ghost-white, lips drained of all color.

Yu Qizhe held the bloodstained cloth and looked at her pale face, unsure what exactly he was feeling.

Yu Jiao silently cursed Yu Hanshan’s ancestors, then finally caught her breath. Seeing Yu Qizhe still standing there in a daze, she inhaled deeply and said softly, “Don’t just stand there. Pour the wine and apply the powder.”