Chapter 5 - A Peculiar Disciple (1)

Chapter 5 – A Peculiar Disciple (1)

Her misdirection worked. The man became momentarily stunned with such a direct question, his body tensed up. Seeing this small window of distraction, she twisted his arm back, earning a small gasp of pain in reply.

He’s tougher than he looks, she thought, considering that setting a broken bone was actualy much painful than breaking it in the first place. She had assumed him to be soft, a stereotypical spoiled rich man. Yet he did not scream or even whimper.

He might actually become someone of worth, thought Zhao Xi, noting that such toughness was uncommon. It was even rarer for people born to such privilege and comfort. Suddenly curious with her patient, she resolved to heal his injuries to the best of her abilities. Not that I actually give less than my full effort, she mused. Satisfied that she had not overlooked anything, she began to put back all of her tools in their respective shelves.

She then turned her attention to his garment which she had thrown to the floor in a hurry when she undressed him. As she gently caressed the pieces of clothing, she felt that they were made of the finest silk. Such a shame, thought Zhao Xi, as she resolved to mend the many holes and tears on them after washing them. She thought of sifting through her clothes for anything that would fit him, but quickly gave up. The man was much taller than her. Besides, it’s not that he would need them—he would not be walking around anytime soon. He’d have to make do with her own threadbare cloak to keep out the autumn chill.

Unbidden, her thoughts went to the black bear, Ping An, back when it was little. Zhao Xi thought that compared to the cub, taking care of this man would be no trouble at all. True, she had to give him his medicine every so often, feed him, bathe him with a damp cloth, and help him like a baby. But Ping An was as uncooperative as a little child, always throwing tantrums and making messes. This man couldn’t even get out of bed.

After washing and then hanging his clothes to dry on a clothesline outside, Zhao Xi gathered a large ball of cotton from one of the clay jars under the shade of the tree which she mashed into a smaller, firmer object as she walked back into the house. Satisfied that it would serve its purpose, she walked to the man’s bedside, gently lifted his head up a few inches, and placed the cotton underneath like a pillow.

She then sat on the small stool beside the bed and watched the man for a little while as he slept, his chest rising and sinking in rhythm with his gentle breathing. Zhao Xi hadn’t noticed it then because she was busy recalling her training in healing but now, she could see that the man was quite beautiful. Like a painting. Or a poem, she thought.

He must be the most beautiful person in the world, she mused, as the dying sun’s crimson light spilled through the window and over him, making his skin and features seem flawless like a piece of jade. Zhao Xi recalled her master who kept a collection of beautiful men’s portraits. Every time her master left, it was for a sole purpose: to travel every corner of the world and sleep with these men. The master once said that she meant to taste every beautiful man in the world at least once.

For her part, Zhao Xi had no such dreams. Every time her master left, she would throw a few flower seeds on the ground outside the house and said she would be back when they had fully bloomed. Zhao Xi would then spend her time the medical books the master left, or explore the surrounding woods and mountains. Those flowers had bloomed three years ago, and she had long accepted that something had happened to her master.

Dismissing those thoughts, Zhao Xi headed to a  groove of trees to catch some spiders and scorpions for her evening meal. Fried to a crisp, both were delicious as well as nutritious, nothing to be scoffed at in any poor village where people couldn’t afford to raise livestock and the woods barely had any animals worth hunting.

She wondered if the man would even eat any of them, remembering her experiences with a neighbor’s child. Zhao Xi offered some once to the boy who promptly ran away screaming. Word quickly spread around their hamlet, and people would make disgusted faces when she came near. They stopped after some time, but she never forgot that and swore never to discuss it again.

He probably wouldn’t like it either, she thought as she changed directions towards the nearby stream to catch some fish instead. With the dried mushrooms that she kept in another jar in the house, it would make for a light but medicinal soup. Zhao Xi would keep the scorpions and spiders to herself.