Chapter 71: Do You Know How to Concoct Poison?

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

After Ding Yao examined him, she nodded. “It can be cured.” She asked Song Yu to bring over the medicinal herbs she had previously ground.

She wrapped twelve small packets of them in a white paper, each containing about three grams. She instructed the woman to mix honey into boiling water and consume them for three days. As the woman listened, she grew troubled. “I don’t have any honey at home…” She began. In normal farming households, even sugar was a luxury item, not to mention honey.

Ding Yao took a small bowl and poured some honey from a bottle into the woman’s mouth. She also added some spirit spring water. The young boy’s body was fine, but he was a little weak. Ding Yao charged a hundred yuan for the medication because honey was quite expensive.

For a few days in a row, people came to see Ding Yao. Although Song Xiuyan did not go to school, he insisted on reading daily. Besides managing the household chores, Song Xue spent her free time knitting ropes or teaching the girls in the village how to do it. Since Ding Yao came into the picture, Song Yu had not needed to forage for wild vegetables. Instead, she followed Ding Yao, learning her craft. The family hardly went out.

Song Xiuyan’s family originally owned many acres of land, and they hired people to farm the fields. However, as the family’s economic situation deteriorated, they slowly sold off what they could to support themselves. The remaining few mu of land was hardly enough to support the family in Song Xiuyan’s generation.

When Song Xiuyan’s father fell ill and was bedridden for half a year, they had no choice but to sell the last of their land to pay for treatment. All they had left was the old house and a small backyard of no more than 1,000 square metres. Afterwards, as if plagued by misfortune, Song Yi broke his leg. By then, the family was so tight on finances that they had no choice but to borrow from everyone they could.

The money they needed to borrow exceeded 2,000 yuan, and people began asking Song Xiuyan if he was willing to sell the old house. However, he refused, saying, “I’m not selling!” Unless necessary, Song Xiuyan did not want to sell the old house Grandpa Zeng had built.

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Ding Yao taught Song Yu how to massage his legs, which would speed up his recovery. After a few tries, Song Yu managed to stand with a grin. “I think my leg will recover in two months. I will write to the boss and tell him the good news!”

Song Xiuyan pursed his lips, worried about his younger brother. He had only told his second brother, Song Yang, that someone wanted to harm the family. What if Song Yu was injured again after he recovered and ran around with the boss?

General Long’s reputation was enough to dissuade most evildoers, but that did not mean his protection was absolute. Accidents always happen, and it would not be surprising if those lurking in the shadows orchestrated something to that effect.

There was only so much he could do to protect his younger siblings. He could not very well expect them to live their lives locked away all the time. The alternative was to ensure they could defend themselves adequately.

However, cultivating the body with martial arts was not a matter of minutes; it took months of hard work to be even remotely proficient. The one shortcut he thought of was introducing them to hidden weapons, perhaps those of the deadly variety.

“Do you know how to make the poison?” Song Xiuyan asked Ding Yao. Since she could concoct antidotes, poison should not be too difficult for her.

Ding Yao nodded. “Yes, I do.” She looked at Song Xiuyan curiously and asked, “What are you going to do with the poison I make?”

Song Xiuyan explained himself to Ding Yao. Although Ding Yao found it curious that Song Xiuyan would insist that someone was out to get them, she attributed it to him wanting to be prepared.

Fortunately, Song Xiuyan’s younger siblings were level-headed. They would not use it recklessly if they were warned that the poisons were only meant for self-defence.

Song Xiuyan bought the medicinal herbs Ding Yao requested. She refined the herbs into several kinds of poison. Some she turned into powder, a few she turned into pills, and the rest she laced on a few hidden weapons. Each of them had its uses.

The next day, another lesson was added to their martial arts lessons: How to use hidden weapons.

Song Xiuyan’s method of throwing hidden weapons amazed Ding Yao. It was fast, accurate, and powerful. He could hit a target the size of a peanut with a small stone from more than ten meters away.

However, Song Xiuyan was best at using throwing knives. He could bisect a fly with his knives from more than ten metres away, perfectly slicing the poor insect in two. Song Xiuyan always kept a short dagger on his person. From a glance, one could tell it was not your everyday item. When she asked him about it, Song Xiuyan said his great-grandfather had left it behind.

Although he always had the dagger on hand, he did not use it under most circumstances; it was too precious. Even when assailed by those black-clothed assassins, he had been reluctant to draw it from its sheath, preferring to use the hitman’s longsword as a flying knife.

Song Xiuyan seemed to grow more and more mysterious by the day. “Your family… ancestors… what exactly… did they do?” Ding Yao prodded.

Ding Yao had lived in seclusion in the Song family village for many years, but she could not think of any explanation for how they had nurtured someone like Song Xiuyan. He was calm, knowledgeable and proficient in martial arts, unlike most youths his age.