The Night Watcher of Great Jing - Chapter 82

Zhao Li stood nearby with her long saber in hand.

She ordered the breakfast stall owner to pass the vegetables and gourds to Yang Jian.

He ate while staring at them and drooling.

The owner was almost frightened enough to wet his trousers.

If he survived this disaster, he would change professions and sell late-night snacks instead!

By the time they had fed Yang Jian nearly an entire basket of vegetables, footsteps finally sounded in the distance.

Zheng Lian returned with Head Constable Xing and the others, pushing several handcarts.

Drawers from the medicine shop lay piled haphazardly across them. Clearly, the men had simply removed and transported everything whole.

An elderly physician with white hair and beard followed behind.

“Quickly.” Zhao Li beckoned.

Zheng Lian handed Yang Jian a bundle of licorice root.

By now, Yang Jian possessed little awareness. He knew only hunger.

The old physician had been sitting peacefully in his clinic when these wolfish Jingning Guard officers forcibly requisitioned him.

When he came around to the front and saw Yang Jian, his knees buckled. He started sinking toward the ground.

Zhao Li caught and lifted him with one hand.

“Don’t panic, Doctor. He’s merely ill. Watch carefully. Note every medicinal ingredient he eats and which one produces an improvement.”

Supporting the old physician, Zhao Li used the same persuasive tactic as before.

“Help us attentively, and afterward the Jingning Guard will award you a banner for being an exemplary citizen.”

All things beneath Heaven generated and countered one another.

The *Miscellaneous Morsels from Youyang* contained a story.

A merchant from Jiangzuo once developed a sore with a human face on his left arm. A skilled physician instructed him to test it with medicinal ingredients.

No matter what herb they fed it, the human-faced sore opened its mouth and swallowed.

Then they offered it fritillaria bulb.

The face frowned and refused to open its mouth.

Fritillaria was its natural counter.

The merchant later used a thin reed tube to force the medicine into the sore’s mouth. Within several days, it shriveled into a scab, fell away, and left him cured.

Zhao Li was borrowing the same principle in an attempt to identify the parasite’s counter.

The old physician looked ready to cry.

What sort of illness could turn a person into this?

But fish-patterned Jingning Guard officers surrounded him with predatory stares. He did not dare object and narrowed his eyes to observe.

At the center of the group, Yang Jian stuffed handful after handful of medicinal material into his mouth.

Bitter dried herbs provided very little energy.

His skin visibly began to sag.

Strangely, despite everything he had swallowed, his stomach still did not swell.

Only the increasingly loud growls of hunger beneath his loose robes could be heard.

Zhao Li frowned.

As time passed, fewer and fewer medicines remained in Zheng Lian’s hands.

Yang Jian looked less human by the moment.

The skin of his cheeks sagged until it nearly hung to his shoulders. Every exposed patch had turned blue-gray.

His entire body resembled a candle melting beneath heat.

Hot sweat poured from the elderly physician until he could barely remain standing.

Zhao Li hooked a bench over with her foot and let him sit.

When she turned, she saw that the breakfast stall owner had already fled far away.

“Don’t be afraid, Doctor. This is merely a very common illness.”

Her reassurance accomplished nothing.

The old physician clutched his chest and wheezed.

The medicine supply continued to dwindle. Sweat appeared at Zheng Lian’s temples as well.

He passed over a drawer of dried ground beetles.

Yang Jian grabbed them by the handful and shoved them into his mouth. He crunched them like melon seeds.

The crisp cracking was the only sound on the deserted street.

“Thank you.” Yang Jian stuffed another handful of dried insects into his mouth and grinned at Zheng Lian. “These taste good. You look delicious too.”

Every hair on Zheng Lian’s body rose. His hand instinctively moved toward his saber.

Fortunately, Yang Jian did not attack. He buried his head inside the drawer of ground beetles.

One handcart after another emptied.

Most of the medicines they had brought were devoured.

Then pounding hoofbeats sounded in the distance.

A mounted force raced toward them and arrived in moments.

Shen Yan led them, dressed in a scarlet fish-patterned uniform.

He leaped from his horse and frowned when he saw Yang Jian eating endlessly at the table.

Zhao Li raised a finger to her lips, signaling him to wait.

Understanding, Shen Yan went to Zheng Lian. Seeing sweat beading at both of the man’s temples, he took the medicine drawer from him and allowed him to rest.

Relieved, Zheng Lian clasped his hands to Shen Yan and slowly withdrew.

As time passed, the boxes in Shen Yan’s hands steadily disappeared.

Zhao Li’s brow tightened.

She circled behind Yang Jian and slowly drew her long saber.

She signaled Shen Yan across from her to remain alert.

He nodded slightly, took another medicine drawer from the cart, and passed it to Yang Jian.

A high stack of empty drawers stood before him.

He casually threw the newest empty one on top, accepted the drawer from Shen Yan, grabbed a handful, and crunched it between his teeth.

Zhao Li’s saber was already unsheathed. She lowered her body, ready to explode into motion.

At that moment, Yang Jian froze.

As if he had bitten into something revolting, he gagged.

He spat out a mass of mucus and chewed pulp.

Zhao Li’s eyes lit sharply.

This was it!

“S-Sichuan chinaberry fruit!” the old physician shouted from where he sat at a distance.

“Lord Shen!” Zhao Li called. “That’s the one. Force it down.”

Her order was brief, but Shen Yan understood.

He kicked.

The bench beneath Yang Jian shattered apart.

At the same instant, Shen Yan’s right hand shot out like lightning, clamped around Yang Jian’s throat, and slammed him to the ground.

Zhao Li stamped on Yang Jian’s arm and drove a knee into his chest.

Without hesitation, Shen Yan used his left hand to wrench open the man’s jaws.

Zhao Li grabbed a handful of round Sichuan chinaberry fruits and stuffed them directly into his mouth.

They worked in perfect unison.

Before Yang Jian could react, his mouth was packed full.

He shook his head, trying to spit them out, but Shen Yan’s iron fingers held his cheeks shut.

Zheng Lian saw them strike and immediately shouted for the men to help.

Several rushed in and pinned Yang Jian’s arms and legs.

He might be little more than skin and bones, but his strength was immense.

He thrashed on the ground like a fish, and Zhao Li’s group could barely restrain him.

With the fruits filling his mouth, he jerked his head from side to side and refused to swallow.

Ferocity flashed across Shen Yan’s face.

He picked up a broken leg from the shattered bench and used it to ram the Sichuan chinaberry fruits down Yang Jian’s throat.

Shen Yan’s strength was enormous. The fruits were crushed inside Yang Jian’s mouth and forced down with his saliva.

Zhao Li was close enough to see several of his molars driven into his throat along with them.

She stole a careful glance at the savagery on Shen Yan’s face, and her brow twitched.

Yang Jian’s mouth became a stone mortar, and Shen Yan pounded it several more times until the fragments of fruit went down.

Yang Jian’s struggles gradually weakened.

A chain of bubbling gurgles came from his stomach.

After the struggle, his clothes clung tightly to his abdomen.

Zhao Li could clearly see fist-sized, egglike shapes pressing outward beneath the skin.

At last, Yang Jian stopped moving.

His eyes, covered by a cloudy film, rolled once.

“Time to go home.”