A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

After word spread that Master Sun's edema had been cured, Song Yitie came to his door a few days later.

It was a sunny autumn afternoon. A slightly worn blue sedan chair stopped in front of Yang's shop in the east of the city. The curtain was lifted, and an elderly man with gray hair and beard, wearing a long blue cloth robe, stepped out. He was thin, but his back was straight. Although his eyes were old, they were sharp and restrained, and he had a calm demeanor cultivated from decades of practicing medicine.

It was none other than Song Yitie, the renowned old doctor in the city.

His arrival immediately caused a stir along half the street. Vegetable vendors, porters, and shop assistants from neighboring shops all dropped what they were doing and gathered around in twos and threes. Some of the older folks who recognized the old doctor marveled, exclaiming in amazement, "Even the legendary Dr. Song has come in person! It seems this is truly going to be a contest of skill." The neighbors all knew about the feud between the two doctors, one old and one young, and now that the main figure had come knocking, they all craned their necks and gathered around to watch the spectacle.

Yang Hu personally went out to greet him, showing the courtesy due to a junior: "It is an honor to have Mr. Song here. I have failed to greet you properly."

Song Yitie stroked his gray beard and looked Yang Hu up and down. His eyes held scrutiny, dissatisfaction, and a hint of undisguised surprise. He had thought that someone who could stir up such a storm in the city would be an arrogant and domineering young man, but he hadn't expected him to be such a humble and polite young man.

"Dr. Yang, there's no need for such formalities." Song Yitie got straight to the point. "I've come today for a matter. I've practiced medicine for fifty years and I believe I deserve the title of 'medicine master.' But lately, people in the city are saying that Dr. Yang's skills have surpassed mine. I admit that I misjudged the Sun family's edema."

He paused, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his old eyes: "But misdiagnosing one illness doesn't mean one's medical skills are inferior. At my age, I'm not fighting for temporary fame, but for whether my medical skills can be passed down and established. I want to have a fair and square competition with Doctor Yang in terms of medical skills."

These words immediately caused an uproar among the onlookers.

Yang Hu's heart sank slightly. He had originally been unwilling to accept this challenge. But the old man before him had already made his point—he wasn't fighting for pride, but for the dignity and tradition of a lifetime of medical practice. This battle was now one of no return. If he continued to hide, it would only confirm the accusations of "undeserving a good reputation and being afraid to fight," tarnishing his newly established medical reputation.

"You flatter me, Elder Song." Yang Hu pondered for a moment, then cupped his hands and said, "My medical skills are shallow, and I would never dare to say that I surpass anyone. In the path of medicine, we should learn from each other and verify each other's knowledge. Since you have this intention, Elder Song, I will accept it."

Seeing his quick agreement, Song Yitie's tense expression eased somewhat. The two immediately agreed to a public medical contest three days later at the largest clinic in the city. All the formalities were to be witnessed by several respected old doctors and prominent gentry. This solemn agreement, in turn, earned the respect of the onlookers. This old man and young man were not truly competing for petty pride, but for a fair and square contest of medical skill.

After finishing his speech, Song Yitie didn't linger. He cupped his hands in greeting and got into his sedan chair.

His actions immediately sparked a huge discussion throughout the city. The prospect of two renowned doctors, one old and one young, publicly competing in medicine was a spectacle rarely seen in years. In teahouses and taverns, everyone was placing bets: some long-time patrons, remembering Song Yitie's decades-long reputation, were certain the old doctor was still the best; others, having witnessed Yang Hu's miraculous recovery, were adamant the east-of-the-city doctor would win. For a time, the entire city was abuzz with speculation about the competition three days later. Several of the larger clinics and pharmacies in the city, taking advantage of the excitement, secretly opened betting odds on who would win. Some even went so far as to discuss the specific techniques each doctor would use and the difficult cases they would treat. What was supposed to be a medical contest had become a major event that the entire city talked about with great interest.

Nighttime, in the backyard of the eastern part of the city. The family gathered around the stove, their expressions somewhat solemn.

"This is unavoidable." Yang Hu recounted the events of the day and said slowly, "Old Mr. Song is upright and honest, not the kind of person who resorts to underhanded tricks. This competition will be a true test of ability."

"You've got real skill, young master, I'm not afraid at all." Liu Ye spoke quickly and directly, "I'll outdo that old doctor one night."

"That's not how it works," Lu Yan frowned. "What I'm afraid of isn't Old Doctor Song. What I'm afraid of is that this competition will draw all the attention of the city to our courtyard."

Her words silenced everyone in the room. Lu Rou, clutching the needle and thread in her hands, forgot to sew and timidly said, "Then... then how about we find an excuse to cancel this competition?"

"We can't refuse." Lu Yan shook her head. "Old Doctor Song issued the challenge in front of the whole city. If we refuse, it will be an admission of cowardice, and his reputation as a doctor will immediately collapse. If our reputation collapses, we will find it difficult to move an inch in this city."

Qin Ying, standing by the window, suddenly spoke: "On the day of the competition, all the gentry and high-ranking officials in the city will be present. With so many people around, it will be the perfect time for that hand to strike and hide. Liu Ye and I must stay by your side at all times that day."

Yang Hu nodded slowly. With Qin Ying by his side, Liu Ye beside him, and Lu Yan managing the overall situation in the backyard, his anxious heart was calmed down considerably.

Yang Hu nodded slowly. Lu Yan's concerns were exactly what he was thinking. These past few days, he had been openly making connections while secretly investigating the supply line that was treasonous with the enemy, all while remaining discreet. But this competition would put him in the spotlight in front of the entire city's gentry and high-ranking officials. At that time, countless eyes would be fixed on Yang's shop in the east of the city—wouldn't there be a hidden hand among them, eager to use this spectacle to see him clearly? He thought of the soldier surnamed Zhou, the inconspicuous grain shop in the west of the city, and the connection between Squad Leader Zhao and the Western Camp and beyond the Great Wall. Since that hand had already set its sights on this courtyard, this competition that put him in the open was, for it, an excellent opportunity to probe and perhaps even strike.

"What does my sister-in-law mean is..." Yang Hu looked at Lu Yan.

"We still have to compete," Lu Yan said calmly. "Hiding isn't the solution. But we need to be extra careful in the courtyard these next few days. We can't let a word of Miss Qin's identity, the survivor in the woodshed, or those pieces of irrefutable evidence slip by. The more we flaunt our identities in the open, the more carefully we need to hide in the shadows."

Qin Ying sat by the window, her grip on the short knife tightening subtly. She knew better than anyone what kind of deadly intent lurked beneath the city's bustling atmosphere. The hand watching them hadn't moved an inch. Whether this seemingly simple medical contest would become a pretext for that hand to probe their secrets or even strike was anyone's guess.

"Keep a close eye on the courtyard and keep a safe distance between us," Yang Hu said slowly, his gaze calm. "In this battle, we must win honorably and steadily, protecting both our head and tail."

The warm glow of the lights illuminated the faces of everyone in the room, each with their own thoughts, yet united as one.

Whether the competition three days later will be a blessing or a curse, a simple exchange of medical skills, or a trap lurking in the shadows, no one knows for sure.