Chapter 78 — Intervene or Not

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That kind of killer aura about a girl was something ordinary people might never notice, but Wei Zhao, a fellow professional, could sense it keenly—one could even call it a kind of sixth sense.

Only, Wei Zhao had spotted her; she had not spotted Wei Zhao.

After years of tempering, Wei Zhao could mask his own killer aura well enough. Yet those who reached Wei Zhao's level were very few indeed.

In the end, Wei Zhao shook his head. The girl's getup clearly showed she did not want to be noticed. She was wounded, but Wei Zhao still felt no urge to help her. Every man minds his own business; though she might be a fellow professional, professionals preferred not to be interrupted while on a job. Fellow professionals, moreover, often belonged to different organizations which might well be hostile to each other.

"Sorry to ask—what exactly is 'golden wound medicine'?" Wei Zhao asked the shop assistant offhandedly.

The assistant blinked, then looked at him as though he were an idiot, as if his question were too silly and naive for words. She could not be bothered to answer properly: "It's a surgical medicine for treating wounds, of course. And even if you wanted to buy some, we're out of stock."

Wei Zhao smiled wryly. So it was probably some new drug—and apparently a very popular one at that.

Still, if the assistant disdained to answer Wei Zhao's question, someone else was eager to help. Before Wei Zhao could say anything more, an old auntie beside him launched into a nonstop chatter.

"Young man, you don't even know golden wound medicine? You know of Divine Doctor Kang, surely? Divine Doctor Kang of the Kang family of traditional physicians—a towering figure in the field of Chinese medicine." The auntie began reciting Doctor Kang's deeds as if counting treasures from her own household: "Golden wound medicine is a fast-healing medicine Doctor Kang put out. It makes wounds recover in a flash, and afterward there's not even a scar to speak of. Amazing, isn't it?"

"That amazing?" Wei Zhao had not expected this Divine Doctor Kang to be so formidable—his product was actually on par with the healing salves Wei Zhao compounded himself?

"Isn't it! I hear it's a secret family formula. Golden wound medicine is supplied to the military first; because of production capacity, only small amounts reach civilian pharmacies at regular intervals, so it's terribly scarce." The auntie went on: "If you're hoping to buy it in a pharmacy, it's next to impossible. My niece's boyfriend's third sister's fifth cousin's husband is the supply and marketing manager at the XX pharmacy chain. Last time I had to call in his favor just to get one bottle. They say the moment a shipment arrives it's absorbed internally—how would it ever reach the shelves?"

"Is that so?" Wei Zhao thought to himself that if the medicine really was as miraculous as the auntie claimed, its popularity was hardly surprising.

"Of course! Especially for young girls—a scar on the body is so ugly. And it's not just about healing the wound fast; the main thing is that it leaves no scar." The auntie added: "I hear that these days people don't even give platinum or gold as gifts anymore—they give golden wound medicine."

"Really?" Wei Zhao listened, dazed, unable to tell whether the auntie was speaking truth or nonsense.

"Of course! Would I lie to you?" The auntie wore the air of an elder lecturing the young.

"Oh, I see. Thank you. But it seems I have no use for it for the time being," Wei Zhao said with a smile.

"Right, a big strapping young fellow like you has no use for such stuff." The auntie nodded, clearly misreading his words; what Wei Zhao meant was that he could compound the medicine himself and had no need to buy any.

Naturally Wei Zhao did not explain. He turned to the Chinese herbal medicine counter, where the herbs he wanted had already been weighed out and sealed, each variety in its own airtight bag.

Wei Zhao examined them carefully and found that two of the herbs seemed to have been stored too long and had begun to spoil, their potency naturally much reduced. There was nothing for it but to weigh out a little extra—make up in quantity what was lost in strength.

He checked the several vessels and compounding tools he wanted as well, and only after making sure they were sound did he pack everything carefully and leave the pharmacy.

These days, whether Chinese patent medicine or Western medicine, all sold well; only loose herbs like these moved sluggishly in pharmacies, with few buyers—which was also why Wei Zhao had been able to finish his shopping and leave so quickly.

Once out of the pharmacy, Wei Zhao did not intend to go straight to school. He had already been absent anyway; whether he showed up hardly mattered. He had already bought a whole set of measuring implements and tools for compounding, and he meant to find a place to mix the medicine first.

That was naturally not something to do at school, and certainly not at Gu Mengyao's villa—fill the whole house with the smell of Chinese herbs and those two girls would go mad. The best solution was to rent a room by the hour, get the work done, and leave.

With that in mind, Wei Zhao was in no hurry for school. Instead he wandered the neighborhood around the pharmacy, looking to see whether there was a decent hotel where he could take a room by the hour.

"Hm?" At the mouth of a sparsely peopled alley, Wei Zhao caught sight of the girl from the pharmacy earlier. She was lying on the ground now, a pool of bright red blood spreading beneath her.

Wei Zhao frowned. He did not want to meddle, but in this deserted alley—never mind whether anyone else might pass by, and even if someone did, who would dare stick their neck out over such a thing? If he failed to save her and she died, he would only bring unnecessary trouble on himself.

Wei Zhao hesitated. He was a man with a task of his own, after all, and it was not fitting for him to go poking into other people's business. Besides, those in his line of work had to be ready to lay down their lives at any moment. Yet he knew well enough that if he left her be, she would likely bleed out and die.

But sometimes Wei Zhao truly had no choice, especially with matters that were none of his concern—and this was plainly a troublesome one at that. The girl, at a glance, was no ordinary sort, and this was a mess he really could not afford to touch.

Gritting his teeth, Wei Zhao hurried past her. As he stepped by the girl's body sprawled on the ground, he could not help casting her a look of pity—here's hoping you pull through on your own—and then he quickened his pace and was gone.

Yet he had not gone far when he suddenly stopped short. Wait a moment.

That one glance had shown him something that seemed faintly familiar, though he could not be sure.

Wei Zhao turned around and walked back to the girl's side. He bent low and fixed his eyes on a ring on the little finger of her right hand.

When he had made out the pattern engraved upon it, Wei Zhao sighed. He quickly felt for the pulse at her wrist, found that it was still beating, and carefully lifted her from the ground, hoisting her onto his back.

Though the girl had already fallen unconscious from loss of blood, she still showed some instinctive reaction as Wei Zhao picked her up, struggling weakly a couple of times—perhaps a reflex against outside attack.

Glancing around and finding no one about, Wei Zhao quickened his steps and, carrying the girl on his back, ran off in the direction from which he had come.