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

Three matches, all three won.

After this battle, Yang Hu's name was no longer that of a "young doctor" from the east of the city, but a "miracle doctor" whom the entire city respected and revered. Even Song Yitie, who had practiced medicine for fifty years, publicly bowed and admitted defeat. This incident spread faster and more widely than when he cured ten or twenty difficult patients.

For several days in a row, the threshold of Yang's clinic in the east of the city was almost worn down by the crowds. Before dawn, a long line formed outside the door. People carrying sick children, supporting the elderly, and wealthy families who had prepared generous gifts to invite the miracle doctor to their homes lined up from one end of the street to the other. Lu Yan busied herself inside and out, scheduling her consultations so tightly that there was no room for anything else, but even so, by noon, there was still a long line of people waiting outside who hadn't been seen yet.

Yang Hu continued to see patients every day as usual, always setting aside a portion of his consultation fees to help those homeless people who couldn't afford medicine. Word gradually spread throughout the city that the miraculous doctor in the east of the city was not only highly skilled but also kind-hearted. Those who sought his treatment gained even more favor.

Song Yitie lost the competition, but he didn't hold a grudge. Instead, every few days he would bring a pot of wine to the east of the city to discuss medicine and prescriptions with Yang Hu. The old doctor had practiced medicine for fifty years and had a wealth of difficult and old cases in his mind, while Yang Hu had diagnostic methods that were unheard of. The two, one old and one young, would often talk for half the night. The people in the city were amazed by this, saying that not only was the doctor's medical skill superb, but he had even managed to win over the stubborn old man Song, who was impossible to reason with, and they had formed a friendship with him despite their age difference.

But beneath this bustling, lively scene, Yang Hu's mind was clearer than anyone else's.

He never forgot Song Yitie's warning, "The waters in this city are deep."

Sure enough, before he could catch his breath, that man surnamed Zhou came to his door again.

This time, the smile on the man's face faded, but the meaning in his words hardened. "The contest with Doctor Yang is over now, isn't it?" He held his tea, a half-smile on his face. "My general's illness is getting worse every day. You said before that you would come to visit after the contest was over. Now that the whole city is seeing Doctor Yang's name, it's not easy to go back on your word, is it?"

Yang Hu understood perfectly. This was a way of shutting down his previous excuses, one by one. The competition was over, and he had no more reason to delay.

But he just couldn't go.

That military camp was the deepest and most dangerous part of this operation. Qin Ying, disguised as a medicine boy, could fool the enemy in the city, but inside the camp, countless people recognized the granddaughter of the Duke of Zhenguo. If she showed herself, it would be a catastrophe. If he went in alone, he would be leaving his only helper outside, walking right into a trap. Besides, the few threads he had weren't enough to form a rope that could strangle that hand. Whether he would be blessed or cursed if he went in now was entirely up to them.

His face remained impassive, and he bowed with a forced smile, saying, "Please forgive me, Master Zhou. It's not that I'm making excuses, but the competitions these past few days have delayed the patients who have been piling up in the city. There are several people waiting outside with life-threatening conditions. If I were to leave them here and go with you, wouldn't it be said that I'm opportunistic and refusing to help those in need? If my reputation is ruined, how can I treat the General in the future?"

He paused, then added, "Furthermore, according to Master Zhou, the General's illness is a chronic, lingering ailment. Chronic illnesses are not like acute ones; they cannot be rushed. Allow me to first resolve these acute ailments, gather the necessary medicines and equipment, and then visit the General to carefully treat him. That would be the safest course of action."

These words were perfectly worded. He neither refused nor delayed the meeting, making every point reasonable. The man surnamed Zhou stared at him for a long time, but ultimately couldn't find a fault. With a forced smile, he said, "Then Dr. Yang will have to hurry," and turned to leave.

Yang Hu watched his retreating figure, his gaze gradually turning cold.

As night fell, after seeing off the last patient, the family sat down around the stove.

These past few days, Liu Ye's eyes had been fixed on the grain store in the west of the city without a moment's rest. She lowered her voice and said, "Young master, that grain store has been acting strangely lately. Before, they were setting off every night, but these past two days, they've even started loading and unloading during the day. It seems like they're in a rush to send their stockpiled grain out of the pass, one trip after another."

She paused, then lowered her voice even further: "There's one more thing. I've been staking out here for the past few days, and I've seen a man in civilian clothes, but with a military air about him, going in and out of the grain store's backyard several times. Every time he comes, the people at the grain store are busy loading the carts. I followed him from a distance once, and the man left the city, heading towards the military camp."

Upon hearing this, everyone in the room felt a chill in their hearts. Soldiers were personally overseeing the delivery of grain to the border region. For the first time, this supply line was clearly and explicitly established, stretching from the grain store in the west of the city to the military camp.

Qin Ying sat by the window, her hand gripping the short knife tightening subtly. Having led troops before, she knew all too well the danger lurking behind it. "Before spring," her voice was icy, "the barbarians need to stockpile enough provisions; they'll definitely make a big move in the spring. The people behind those grain merchants are doing this for the barbarians."

Yang Hu's gaze froze on the flickering firelight.

"The thread is almost untangled," he said slowly. "The grain store in the west of the city, that man surnamed Zhou in the army, the military report of 'fighting to the death for his country,' and what Old Master Song said about the people in the army who came to him for medical treatment. All these scattered threads point to the depths of that military camp, to the same hand."

He paused, his voice turning serious: "But the closer we get to this point, the more we need to remain calm. That hand is hiding too well. None of these loose threads we have can be strung together into a rope that can strangle it. If we act rashly, we'll alert it, and once it retreats, it will be even harder to find it later."

"That guy surnamed Zhou has invited you into the military camp time and time again." Qin Ying raised her eyes. "That place is a den of dragons and tigers. Once you go in, you'll be in their territory. Whether it's a blessing or a curse is entirely up to them." She lowered her voice. "Besides, my face isn't good enough to get into that camp."

Yang Hu understood what she meant. He nodded slowly: "So we can't enter this military camp right now. We have to wait. We have to straighten out this line from beginning to end, wait for that hand to show a flaw, and wait for a reason that allows me to enter with dignity and leave unscathed."

Lu Yan had been listening quietly until now, when she slowly spoke: "That hand is in such a hurry to deliver the grain and invite you into the camp, which means it's also in a hurry. The more anxious it is, the more likely it is to reveal its weaknesses. We don't need to rush to make the first move; we just need to set up the net well, keep a close eye on it, and wait for it to run into us."

Her words eased the tension in the room somewhat. Qin Ying looked at her, and the coldness in her eyes softened a little.

The fire crackled and popped, casting long shadows of everyone in the room onto the wall.

On the surface, the whole city was abuzz with tales of his medical prowess; in the shadows, a deadly thread of betrayal and a hand lurking in the darkness were slowly closing in on him. Holding the general's illness in one hand and the gates of the military camp in the other, that hand was luring him step by step into that cannibalistic abyss. All he could do was clutch at the loose ends of the thread, wrestling with his unseen adversary on the edge of a knife.

It was late at night. Yang Hu sat alone in the main room until the wee hours.

He knew that Zhou wouldn't let it go so easily. He could use "emergency illness" to stall for time today, but what about tomorrow? The day after? Since that hand had already set its sights on him and was determined to lure him into the military camp, it wouldn't give up easily. The time he had to unravel this situation was dwindling moment by moment.

Outside the window, a crescent moon coldly illuminates this border town, which appears relaxed on the outside but is actually tense on the inside.

The mountain rain is on its way.