Chapter 83: Is It Too Late for a Gentleman to Take Revenge After Ten Years?

Prince Anyang, Zhu Zhanhun, personally escorted Zhang Yue back to the Duke of Yingguo’s residence, which immediately caused quite a stir. Once they understood what had happened, the entire mansion fell into chaos. Since Zhang Fu was not there at the time, Lady Wang had to go in person to thank Prince Anyang, Zhu Zhanhun.

After seeing off the young prince, she hurriedly arranged for the maids and servants to take Zhang Yue back to Fangheng Courtyard, while at the same time frantically sending people to summon a doctor for medicine. She initially thought of sending someone to inform Zhang Fu but abandoned the idea after some thought, instead rushing with Biluo to Zhang Yue’s room.

Pulling back the curtain and entering the inner room, she saw that half of his clothes had been removed. Although bandages were applied to his shoulder, it was still heavily swollen. The red and purple whip marks, wide enough to span an inch, were terrifying, causing her even greater alarm.

“Why hasn’t the orthopedic doctor arrived yet? I sent someone for him!”

Biluo quickly replied, “Madam, it takes time to ride out and bring back a doctor. They should be here any moment!”

Zhang Yue had had smooth fortunes since arriving in the capital, but this unexpected disaster suddenly woke him up. The searing pain in his shoulder served as a clear warning: if it weren’t for the protection of the Duke of Yingguo’s residence, it might not have been just a few whips—could he even escape alive, let alone take revenge?

Qiuhen, standing nearby, saw the wounds on Zhang Yue’s shoulder and her eyes reddened. If not for Amber holding her tightly, she might have knelt down and begged Lady Wang for help. Even so, she bit her lip and rubbed her handkerchief, her face showing unmistakable grief and anger. Yueluo and Liusu had seen maids and servants get beaten before, but today’s situation was different. Moreover, since it involved a prince, they didn’t dare speak up either.

Returning from his thoughts, Zhang Yue saw Lady Wang sitting by the bed, her eyes filled with concern. He forced a smile and said, “Aunt, it’s just a minor injury; nothing serious.”

“With it already in this state, how can you say it’s nothing serious?” Lady Wang said sternly, then added angrily, “Prince Hengshan allows his subordinates to commit violence on the streets without reason. Doesn’t he realize that his father, the King, is already imprisoned at Xihua Gate? If anything else happens, even the gods won’t be able to save him! Your two lackeys are utterly useless—how could they let you suffer so much?”

Zhang Yue felt a tightening in his heart, remembering how strict the rules were in such large mansions these days. Last time, Zhang Jiu had left without permission and nearly caused trouble, resulting in his personal maid Fang Caoyao and the young servant who went with him both being punished with whips; they still couldn’t get out of bed to this day. He was truly worried that Lian Sheng and Lian Hu might have also been punished. He hurriedly explained, “Auntie, it really wasn’t their fault. I happened to be ahead at that time…”

“You don’t need to speak up for them. Failing to protect your master at a critical moment always results in punishment,” Lady Wang cut Zhang Yue off abruptly. She then carefully pulled up the quilt to cover him, being cautious not to touch his wounds, before softly explaining, “They’re different from those two maids back then. At least they had the quick thinking to shout for help, so I only punished them by making them kneel in the courtyard for an hour. Thankfully, your uncle isn’t here; otherwise, in his anger, he might even have used a military stick!”

Realizing it was useless to argue with Lady Wang, and since it wasn’t a severe punishment, Zhang Yue gave up. Before long, the doctor arrived—a veteran physician from Hui Chun Tang who specialized in treating injuries from falls and blows.

The maids should have stepped back, but Lady Wang, considering the doctor’s age and worried that no one would be around to assist if anything went wrong, ordered everyone to stay and had the housekeeper lead the doctor in. After the old doctor examined his injuries, she anxiously asked, “Will these injuries cause any problems? Why isn’t the swelling or bruising going down even after applying the medicine?”

Although the doctors from Hui Chun Tang often came to treat illnesses at the Duke of Ying’s residence, serious injuries from falls or blows were rare there. So this was the old doctor’s first time entering such a grand mansion. Hearing her question, he quickly replied, “There are medicines for cuts, sprains, and bruises. The young master was struck with a cowhide whip—fortunately, only twice. Once I remove the blood stasis and apply medicine externally along with oral medication, he’ll recover in a few days.”

Hearing this lengthy explanation, Zhang Yue could only smile bitterly—this injury required both external and internal treatments, a rather excessive effort. After all, he had only been struck a couple of times, yet it was treated as if it were something serious. However, seeing the old doctor grab his arm under Lady Wang’s urging to start treating him, he closed his eyes and let him proceed.

Though quite old, this veteran doctor could hold the top position among those treating injuries at Hui Chun Tang, so his skills must be extraordinary. After removing the stasis, he prescribed medicine for the maid to prepare, and then took out topical ointments to carefully apply to Zhang Yue’s shoulder wound. By now, the maids were all busy with their own tasks, and Lady Wang, upon hearing that Zhang Fu had returned, had also gone to the main room, leaving only Hu Bo to attend to him. The old doctor explained to Hu Bo how to apply the medicine while chatting nonstop about other things.

“Don’t worry, young master. Our Hui Chun Tang’s healing medicines are the most famous. Even the top generals in the army always carry some in their bags when going on campaigns. Once the swelling subsides and the wound heals, apply our specially made muscle-growth ointment, and there won’t be a trace left. Tsk tsk, though it seems like just a small bottle, it’s more expensive than gold. Only a few noble families can afford it.”

Zhang Yue glanced over and saw that the once frightening wound was no longer severely swollen, and the burning sensation had turned to a cool feeling. He realized that Hui Chun Tang’s medicines truly lived up to their reputation. He had thought of asking for more medicine and that muscle-growth ointment since Fang Cao and the medicinal scent were still recovering, but hearing it cost more than gold made him give up the idea.

He had already exchanged all his savings for silver beans and given them to Du Zhen as travel funds. Now, he only had the 100 taels of silver his father, Zhang Zhuo, had given him before leaving. Although Lady Wang provided him with 150 guan in treasure notes per month—equivalent to 15 taels of silver—he barely had enough to do anything. In a place like Nanjing, it was impossible for him to come up with any way to make money—plus, such plans might not even work.

As he was struggling with these thoughts, someone lifted the curtain outside. It was Qiu Hen who brought the prepared medicine. She sat down by the bed and carefully blew on the scalding liquid. When the bowl cooled slightly, she tried to feed him the medicine with a spoon, but Zhang Yue refused. In the end, the old doctor said with a smile that the medicine was too bitter and should be drunk all at once, so she stopped and simply sat aside, watching Zhang Yue drink it.

After finally finishing a bowl of medicine even more bitter than Coptis, Zhang Yue patiently listened to the old doctor’s extremely detailed list of taboos and instructions. Once the doctor left, he let out a long sigh. But just then, Zhang Fu arrived. Seeing Zhang Fu’s grim expression, Hu Bo pulled Qiu Hen away quietly.

“I happened to be in the palace playing chess with the emperor. When I was leaving, I happened to run into the impatient Prince of Anyang, who exaggerated everything further. If it weren’t for me throwing a few words at him, he would have rushed to complain to the emperor right away! These princes never stop causing trouble, thinking the emperor doesn’t know anything!”
Perhaps due to his frustration, Zhang Fu didn’t care whether it was appropriate to say these things to Zhang Yue and vented all his anger in one go before finally standing by the bed.
“The Prince of Hengshan has always had an explosive temper, just like the Prince of Han. Although the emperor doesn’t like the Prince of Han now, he’s still his own son. It’s hard to seek justice for you—even if the emperor finds out, he’ll probably only scold the Prince of Hengshan a bit. But if the emperor starts to pay attention to you because of this, that would be worse. That’s why I didn’t let the Prince of Anyang cause a fuss. By the way, the emperor bestowed upon me five fine horses from the Oirats today. Choose one for yourself. These imperial horses have markings, so when you ride them out, people won’t dare to attack you recklessly. Also, you always bring those two weak fighters, Liansheng and Lianhu—no one will be able to protect you if something goes wrong. Peng Shisan is about to return from Jiaozhi. I’ll ask him to pick two capable men to accompany you!”
In the Ming Dynasty, anyone with the surname Zhu was considered nobler than all dukes and marquises. Zhang Yue naturally understood this. Yet, having suffered such a great loss for no apparent reason, he held a lot of anger inside, though he didn’t say anything. As the saying goes, it’s never too late for a gentleman to take revenge. But the problem is, it would still be ten or eight years before the Prince of Han fell—was he supposed to just endure it all this time?