Chapter 86 — Everything Goes as Wished
After Xie Jing returned to the provincial capital, apart from accompanying Lord Bai Jiu, he devoted most of his attention to watching for signs of illness in the city.
In his memory, the plague he once remembered hadn’t broken out this time. Counting the months, it was already several months later than it had been before.
Perhaps because the previous plague (H1N1 influenza pandemic (Spanish Flu)) in Heihe had made the three northern provinces more vigilant, everyone had been cautious these past two years. For a while, there had been no news of any sudden outbreaks.
As the year-end approached, a family in the suburbs suddenly fell ill — a man who had just returned from elsewhere developed a high fever, and the next day, his two young children also became sick.
Xie Jing had stationed people to monitor all the pharmacies. The moment anyone purchased suspicious medicine, he would know. Upon hearing this news, he immediately had it reported to the Health Bureau and went home to inform Lord Bai Jiu.
Having personally lived through the Heihe epidemic, Lord Bai Jiu understood the danger at once. He went straight to the Governor’s Office, explained the situation, and requested that General Bai send several doctors for consultation.
The diagnosis came quickly — it was indeed the plague.
Thanks to the previous experience in Heihe, the provincial capital had remained vigilant. The moment the disease was confirmed, they moved fast to isolate and contain it.
Patrol trucks began circling the streets, loudspeakers blaring warnings for people to “drink boiled water and avoid raw or cold food.” Streets were dusted with disinfectant powder, pills were distributed, and teams were sent to exterminate rats. In the suburbs, where the infection was more severe, roadblocks were erected, makeshift health clinics were established, and doctors assigned for treatment.
Medical resources soon grew strained. The Bai family’s pharmacy took the lead, supplying the clinics with medicine and herbs. Scarce Western medicines were also being sourced through every possible channel.
The provincial medical college sent all its students to the front lines — for them, it was a race against time, a battle that had to be won.
A moment’s delay could cost several lives.
Dr. Lin, whom Xie Jing hadn’t seen in a long time, came to find him, asking for an introduction to Lord Bai Jiu of the Bai family.
“Little Xie, I’m here on behalf of my teacher,” Dr. Lin said. “I’ve been his interpreter these past two years. He’s an overseas Chinese, and his Chinese isn’t very good, so he sent me. The epidemic area is short of everything, but most of all — alcohol. My teacher wants to make a batch of medical cotton masks, which requires a large amount of alcohol. I know Lord Bai Jiu manages all the Heihe distilleries. Do you think it’s possible to transport some here?”
He smiled bitterly. “I really have no other way. I don’t have any ties to the Bai family, but right now, only Lord Bai Jiu can help us.”
Without hesitation, Xie Jing nodded. “A shipment just arrived at the Bai pharmacy today. It can be sent over right away. If you need more, just tell me.”
Dr. Lin was overjoyed, nodding repeatedly. “Thank you — don’t worry, the expense will be recorded. I’ll go with you to the Health Bureau later for reimbursement.”
Xie Jing replied, “No need. Saving lives comes first.”
Dr. Lin rose to leave, but Xie Jing stopped him. “Dr. Lin, are your two daughters all right? If you’re too busy to care for them, you can send them to my grandmother’s place.”
He wasn’t sure how serious the outbreak would become. In his memory, many elderly and children had died because no one was around to look after them, and they didn’t get treatment in time.
Dr. Lin’s gaze softened. “I have a faculty dormitory at the medical college; they’re staying there. It’s safe enough. But if anything happens, I’ll trouble you again.”
He bowed to Xie Jing and hurried back to the epidemic zone.
A few days later, the epidemic reached its peak — dozens died in a single day.
Panic swept through the province. Most people shut themselves indoors; the streets were deserted.
Unable to care for his daughters while working, Dr. Lin remembered Xie Jing’s words and sent his twin girls, Lin Zhifei and Lin Zhiyi, to stay at Grandma Kou’s small eatery.
The restaurant had long closed due to the outbreak, but the kitchen still had plenty of rice, flour, and vegetables — enough to last several months, even with two more mouths to feed.
Meanwhile, once the Heihe Trading Company received Lord Bai Jiu’s message, they dropped all other orders and began full-scale production of medical alcohol.
Bai Mingzhe, worried about delays, personally escorted the convoy delivering it.
The Bai family’s caravan arrived swiftly, bringing not only alcohol but also Western medicines — tablets and injections — procured from foreign merchants at the border.
Yet that very afternoon, another convoy arrived. They unloaded their cargo at the Bai residence, saluted, and left without saying a word.
When Xie Jing came to check, he found that all the sealed bottles were medical alcohol — identical to the Bai distillery’s own product.
Over the next three days, more convoys came.
The drivers were all different — some merchants, some factory hands — but all brought boxes of alcohol, some labeled in foreign languages. They simply unloaded everything at the Bai residence, saluted, and left without name or receipt.
Each batch weighed anywhere from several hundred to several thousand catties.
The total far exceeded what Dr. Lin had requested.
When Lord Bai Jiu heard of it, he said nothing — he simply donated it all to the hospitals in the name of the “Three Northern Provinces Chamber of Commerce.”
These were people who had once benefited from Lord Bai Jiu’s help in Heihe. Back then, his order of 100,000 saved many small distilleries from ruin. Years had passed; those once-small distilleries had since grown large. Though Lord Bai Jiu had only alerted the Bai distillery, the others quietly followed suit, sending donations of their own.
The medical alcohol was quickly turned into sterilized cotton and thick cloth masks. The cost was low, the supply sufficient — every medical worker and patient had one. The biggest problem was solved.
Once the source was contained — and with the freezing winter halting spread — the epidemic soon eased.
Within half a month, no new cases appeared.
—
The Twelfth Lunar Month.
Xie Jing didn’t dare go out; he stayed by Lord Bai Jiu’s side in the Eastern Courtyard.
Lord Bai Jiu’s cold hadn’t fully healed; he still coughed, though there was no fever or other symptoms.
Even so, Xie Jing refused to leave him, keeping watch day and night.
No one came to visit; business across the province had paused. Days passed slowly.
Most servants with families had returned home, leaving only a few bachelors to clean and guard.
One afternoon, Xie Jing climbed a tree in the courtyard to pick persimmons.
The old tree was tall and gnarled, and the few bright-red fruits still clinging to the snowy branches looked like glowing lanterns.
From under the veranda, Lord Bai Jiu watched him and squinted. “The branches are brittle — pick a few and come down.”
Xie Jing answered obediently, climbed down one-handed while holding his coat hem with the other, and jumped lightly from a low branch like a cat, landing without a sound.
Lord Bai Jiu’s gaze never left him.
Xie Jing held the few persimmons in his coat and ran under the veranda, picking out the biggest and reddest one to hand up, smiling with a bit of sweat on his brow. “Master, try this one?”
Lord Bai Jiu turned it over in his hand, but didn’t eat.
Xie Jing peeled one for himself and took a bite. It was soft and icy-sweet from the frost — delicious in the winter chill.
After two bites, he noticed Lord Bai Jiu hadn’t eaten yet, so with the fruit still in his mouth, he held out the rest, his bright eyes questioning.
Lord Bai Jiu reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead and asked, “Why the sudden craving for persimmons today?”
Xie Jing blinked, puzzled. “You’ve been staring outside all morning — wasn’t it because you wanted some?”
Lord Bai Jiu chuckled softly. “Yes.”
In truth, he’d been thinking of painting the scene — the snow, bare branches, and red persimmons — but now, the tree was bare; Xie Jing had plucked them all and brought them to him.
He had too many, so Lord Bai Jiu had a jade plate brought out to hold them, and painted a picture titled “Everything as Wished (Persimmons of Fortune).”
Halfway through, Xie Jing suddenly realized the pun and blushed red.
Lord Bai Jiu beckoned him closer, guiding his hand to paint. Xie Jing was too distracted to focus.
This was the same study as before — the place of their first transgression.
He remembered that first time clearly — how Lord Bai Jiu, solemn-faced, had accused him of “deliberately tempting” him, when all he’d done was wipe a spill from his sleeve. Looking back, maybe it was Lord Bai Jiu who’d first lost control.
Heat rose in Xie Jing’s body.
“Jing’er?” Lord Bai Jiu asked quietly, “Focus.”
But Xie Jing couldn’t.
He wanted, this time, to be “deliberate.”
At Nanfang, he’d long prepared himself. After months together, he’d learned what it meant to yield. Now, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Lord Bai Jiu — in this life and the last — the same man: gentle in speech, but firm and possessive in action.
Unable to hold back, Xie Jing set down the brush and intertwined his fingers with Lord Bai Jiu’s, murmuring something.
Lord Bai Jiu leaned closer. “What did you say?”
“Master,” he whispered, “I wish everything goes your way.”
Then he turned his head and kissed him — eyes wet and unwavering.
Lord Bai Jiu looked at him for a long moment, then kissed him back — forehead, nose, and finally lips.
Gentle as always, but deeper, more fervent.
—
A spring night.
The same study, the same familiar place.
Clothes lay scattered on the desk and chair; the calligraphy paper smudged.
On the nearby couch, two entwined figures rested, breathing heavy and slow.
Xie Jing lay beneath, his beloved above him, every breath mingling. Each kiss that fell on his ear made his eyes glisten.
Lord Bai Jiu kissed away his tears. “You didn’t cry from pain earlier,” he said softly, squeezing Xie Jing’s hand. “Do you regret it now?”
Xie Jing shook his head, black hair spilling across the pillow. His voice was hoarse: “No. I just… like you too much.”
Lord Bai Jiu chuckled lowly, clearly pleased.
Their fingers laced together, Xie Jing murmured, “I don’t know why… whenever I see you, I just like you — the most.”
Lord Bai Jiu’s heart melted. Each word earned Xie Jing another kiss — from shoulder down, one after another, unending.
If Xie Jing had asked for the stars just then, Lord Bai Jiu would have gone to fetch them.
Meteoric iron might be rare, but for a beloved, anything could be found.
The man in his arms — that was the real treasure.
They spent several days closeted together in the courtyard — fortunately, few servants were around to notice.
Lord Bai Jiu, having tasted desire again, was in no hurry to stop; but after a few days of indulgence, Xie Jing began to refuse.
He pushed gently at Lord Bai Jiu’s chin. “Master, you haven’t taken your medicine yet.”
“I’m not coughing anymore,” Lord Bai Jiu said. “No need.”
“There’s tonic soup in the kitchen,” Xie Jing replied firmly. “You must drink some. It’s good for your health.”
Lord Bai Jiu narrowed his eyes, pinching his chin. “Wasn’t last night good enough?”
Xie Jing flushed crimson — he’d meant only to care for Lord Bai Jiu’s health, not that. Stammering, he muttered, “It was good.”
That appeased him. Lord Bai Jiu drank his soup.
Xie Jing had a bowl too, sipping slowly.
He thought, maybe in the next two years he’d grow a bit taller — he already reached Lord Bai Jiu’s shoulder now. If he could grow just a little more, he wouldn’t have to tilt his head so high when they kissed.
He glanced up — Lord Bai Jiu seemed healthier than ever. The Bai family hadn’t suffered at the hands of bandits; his old injuries were gone. Apart from his dislike of cold weather, he was no different from any ordinary man — well, except much stronger.
Xie Jing prided himself on his strength, yet even when Lord Bai Jiu let him use both hands in an arm wrestle, he never won once.
Perhaps the Bai family’s men were just born that way.
Thinking of Bai Mingyu’s brute strength, Xie Jing finally understood.
