Chapter 38: Shazhu Squanders His Fortune for Love, Siblings Turn Against Each Other

To scrape together the staggering sum of one hundred yuan, Shazhu truly went all out.

First, he emptied his savings of over thirty yuan—money he had been putting aside for years to one day afford a bride. Then, he swallowed his pride and headed to the factory's finance department to request an advance on his wages.

"An advance? Master He, are you joking?" Accountant Wang of the finance department didn't even look up. "The factory has no such policy. If everyone came here asking for an advance like you, wouldn't the whole place be in chaos?"

No matter how Shazhu pleaded or wore down his tongue, Accountant Wang would not budge. Left with no other options, he went to see the canteen director. Taking into account that Shazhu was generally a diligent worker, the director privately lent him twenty yuan out of his own pocket.

He was still nearly fifty yuan short.

Gritting his teeth, Shazhu went home that night and summoned his younger sister, He Yushui.

"Yushui, I need to discuss something with you." Shazhu rubbed his hands together, speaking with some embarrassment.

"What is it?" Yushui was reading a book and asked offhandedly.

"Do you... do you have any money? Lend me some first. I’m in a real hurry."

Yushui put down her book and looked at him warily. "Borrow money? What for? Didn't you just get paid not long ago?"

"I... well, you see... I need to pay for Bangeng's medical treatment."

Shazhu stammered, recounting how Chen Mo had demanded one hundred yuan. Upon hearing this, Yushui exploded on the spot.

"What? One hundred yuan! Brother, have you lost your mind, or have I?" She jumped up from her chair, her voice sharp. "What even is that Bangeng? He’s a thief! A robber! He even tried to kill Chen Mo! And now you want to go save him? You want to use our family's money to save him?"

"Keep your voice down!" Shazhu panicked, rushing to cover her mouth. "He's still just a child..."

"A child? A twelve-year-old child stabs someone with an awl, and you call him a child?" Yushui shoved his hand away, her eyes reddening with anger. "Brother, I’ve had enough of you! Are you bewitched by that Qin Huairu? Her family is a bottomless pit! How much money have you already poured into it? What more do you want?"

"Let me tell you, He Yuzhu, not a single cent of our family's money is going to the Jia family! If you dare touch the little bit of inheritance our parents left behind, I... I will sever our relationship as siblings!"

Yushui’s words were like a bucket of ice water, chilling Shazhu to the bone. He had not expected such a fierce reaction from his sister.

"Yushui, how can you say that? That’s a human life!" Shazhu tried to argue.

"A human life? When he was trying to kill someone, why didn't he think about the fact that the other person had a life too?" Yushui sneered. "Brother, I’m putting it plainly: if you continue to meddle in the Jia family’s mess, you are no longer welcome in this home!"

With that, she slammed the door to her room and locked it with a loud click. Shazhu stood alone in the living room, feeling angry, anxious, and deeply aggrieved.

He couldn't understand it. He only wanted to do a good deed, so why had he become so isolated?

With no hope of help from his sister, Shazhu was backed into a corner. The next day, he actually called in a second-hand dealer and sold the few pieces of old furniture left in his home that still held any value.

An Eight Immortals table, two grand chairs, and an intricately carved wooden chest—these were the last keepsakes left by his parents. The dealer gave him forty-five yuan.

Clutching the crumpled banknotes, Shazhu felt as though his heart were being sliced by a knife. Finally, he had his one hundred yuan.

When he handed the money to Qin Huairu, he felt completely hollowed out.

"Zhuzi... this money..." Qin Huairu looked at the pile of mismatched notes, her eyes turning red.

"Sister Qin, take it. Hurry... hurry and take Bangeng to get treated." Shazhu’s voice was hoarse.

Qin Huairu held the one hundred yuan, feeling its heavy weight. This was not just money; it was all of Shazhu's worldly possessions, his parents' legacy, and the catalyst that had severed his bond with his sister. She felt a surge of gratitude toward him, but even more, a crushing sense of guilt.

However, for the sake of her son, she could no longer afford such concerns. She tucked the money into her clothes and, with Shazhu’s help, used a tattered bedsheet to strap the still-vacant-eyed Bangeng onto her thin back.

"Zhuzi, wait for me at home."

After saying this, Qin Huairu walked, step by difficult step, toward Chen Mo’s house.

...

"Knock, knock, knock."

Chen Mo opened the door. He was not surprised to see Qin Huairu, haggard and carrying Bangeng on her back.

"Did you bring the money?" he asked directly.

Qin Huairu didn't speak; she simply pulled the crumpled, body-warmed stack of notes from her clothes and handed them over. Chen Mo took them and counted them carefully, one by one.

"Exactly one hundred yuan."

He put the money away and stepped aside. "Come in."

Qin Huairu, carrying Bangeng, walked into the room she had dreamed of entering. The room was spotlessly clean, and the air carried a faint, medicinal fragrance. A book lay on the table beside a glass of clear water. Everything looked so orderly, so peaceful—a stark contrast to her own chaotic and frantic household.

A wave of intense jealousy rose in Qin Huairu’s heart.

"Put him on the bed," Chen Mo said, gesturing toward his own bed.

Qin Huairu complied, laying Bangeng down. He remained in his dull, vacant state, eyes unfocused, saliva drooling from the corner of his mouth. Chen Mo walked over, placed his fingers on Bangeng’s wrist, and began to "take his pulse."

Qin Huairu stood to the side, nervous, not daring to even breathe loudly. After a long while, Chen Mo released his wrist and furrowed his brows slightly.

"The situation is more serious than I imagined," he said in a low voice.

Qin Huairu’s heart tightened instantly. "Doctor... Doctor Chen, what... what is wrong with him exactly?"

"He has suffered from extreme shock, causing his spirit to lose its hold and his soul to depart. Of his three souls and seven spirits, one soul and one spirit have been lost."

Chen Mo began to spout nonsense with a perfectly straight face. This explanation was tailor-made for people of this era. If he tried to explain "acute stress disorder" or "psychological trauma," they wouldn't understand a word. But if he told them he had "lost his soul," they would believe it immediately.

Sure enough, as soon as Qin Huairu heard "lost his soul," her face turned deathly pale.

"Then... what should we do? Can they be brought back?" she asked urgently.

"It's difficult." Chen Mo shook his head, deliberately making the situation sound dire. "The lost soul and spirit are drifting between heaven and earth. To bring them back is as hard as ascending to the heavens."

Hearing this, Qin Huairu’s tears were about to fall.

"However," Chen Mo changed his tone, "it is not entirely impossible." He looked at Qin Huairu and said slowly, "I have an ancestral secret recipe here called the 'Soul-Calming and Spirit-Stabilizing Decoction.' Drinking it can anchor his remaining soul, and then, combined with my 'Soul-Summoning Acupuncture,' perhaps we can recall the lost soul and spirit."

"Then... then treat him quickly!" Qin Huairu grabbed onto the suggestion like a life-saving straw.

"Don't be impatient." Chen Mo waved his hand. "As I said before, the cost of the herbs is calculated separately."

He pulled a piece of paper from his drawer and began to write. "This 'Soul-Calming and Spirit-Stabilizing Decoction' requires several key ingredients. One mace of century-old wild ginseng, two mace of East Sea agarwood, three mace of Tianshan snow lotus..."

With every item he mentioned, Qin Huairu’s heart grew colder. She had never even heard of these things, but just by the names, she knew they were extraordinary.

"These herbs are extremely precious. I only have one set left here." Chen Mo put down his pen and looked at Qin Huairu. "So, as for the cost of the medicine..."

He held up five fingers.

"Fifty yuan. Not a single cent less."