The moment I fell, I hooked his retreating leg with a high kick, and he lost his balance, falling with me almost simultaneously.
I sprang up like a carp, and he rolled, getting to his feet in a flash.
I had to admit he was a soldier of exceptional skill, a formidable opponent in actual combat.
He gave me no chance to parry; as I was observing his moves, he was already upon me.
I understood; this was a battlefield, not a sparring match, a fight to the death.
I had no choice but to step back and evade his sharp advance, then fight fire with fire. Using his momentum, I swept my leg at him.
He had charged at me with great speed, perhaps feeling victory was assured. He hadn't expected me to retreat, and with my kick, he couldn't stop himself, landing flat on his face with a thud.
I moved in, pinning his back with my knee, rendering him immobile. He lay on the ground, raising his hands in surrender.
The soldiers suddenly erupted in applause. I stood up and looked at the officer, who gave me a thumbs-up and said, "This is the soldier who has held our three-year combat champion record. I didn't expect you to break it."
He then turned and ordered all the soldiers to form ranks, announcing the birth of a new champion, me.
He said, "I am now verbally declaring you our unit's champion for this year. We'll furnish you with a formal certificate later. Please share your acceptance speech."
The soldiers regarded me with focused attention, in complete silence.
I was a bit bewildered. I wasn't part of their army. Even if I won, it was just a friendly match; why were they taking it so seriously?
Seeing the officer's earnest expression, I reluctantly stepped in front of the soldiers.
I said, "I don't understand combat, nor have I seen your fighting styles. However, all methods are for actual combat, for defeating the opponent and protecting oneself. It was by remembering this that I managed to break through. Truthfully, in terms of physique, stamina, and endurance, this fellow here is superior to me. His ferocity lacked a bit of wisdom. In a real fight, a slight oversight could cost him his life. My advice to all of you is this: if you want to survive, use your brains more."
The officer led the applause, and instantly, the hall roared with clapping, even the soldier who had just lost his championship title clapped vigorously.
I quickly bid farewell to the officer and told them to continue their training, as I had to go and prepare medicine for Wu Guodong.
I returned to my room to call for the miracle doctor. As expected, he was still asleep. Perhaps he wasn't truly drunk, but merely enduring it to show respect to Wu Guodong.
I couldn't bear to wake him. I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was not yet three o'clock. I decided to let him sleep a little longer and wake him at three.
The effects of the alcohol had largely dissipated after the fight. I had to admit, good liquor was good liquor; though potent, it caused no discomfort. Symptoms like dry mouth, dizziness, and headaches after drinking were absent.
However, this liquor was not only expensive but also extremely scarce. Even those who could afford it might not be able to buy it.
Later on, this liquor became a luxury, bought not for consumption but for storage, or as gifts, and even used as a tool for bribery and corruption.
That's a story for another time; for now, it was merely a rare fine liquor on the market.
Despite its rarity, it was still obtainable with money.
An idea suddenly struck me: I should ask Jing Lei to buy some of this liquor when I returned. When the land for our farm was developed, I'd set up a winery and store this liquor as its house special.
Yes, that's what I'll do.
At this moment, the miracle doctor turned over, mumbling something sleepily. Suddenly, he sat up on the bed. Seeing me nearby, he asked, "I'm really getting old; this little bit of alcohol knocked me out. Did I cause any trouble?"
I replied, "There's still plenty of time. I wanted you to get more sleep, so I didn't wake you."
He got out of bed and put on his shoes, saying, "Let's go quickly. We still need to check his pulse and prepare the medicine this afternoon; there's so much to do."
I nodded, stood up, and walked quickly after him, following him out the door.
In the villa's main hall, Wang Dong was missing. The remaining guards were no longer lounging lazily on the sofas but were stationed dispersedly at doorways and around rooms, looking like actual guards.
I had heard a lot from Qian Fugui about Wang Dong's actions. Wang Dong's death was a good thing for them.
One of the guards saw us enter and quickly ran to the inner chamber door to ring the doorbell.
We entered the room. Wu Guodong was still resting in bed. Seeing us, he tried to sit up, but the miracle doctor quickly told him to remain lying down, as he needed to take his pulse.
He took his pulse repeatedly for a while, then asked me to fetch paper and a pen, and began writing out a prescription. It was largely similar to the previous one, with the addition of two herbs, Gentiana scabra root and Honeysuckle flower, to calm the liver and reduce internal heat. These two herbs needed to be decocted separately and consumed apart.
I noted everything down and went to the preparation room to mix the medicine.
First, I had the guards remove and destroy all the cups in the cabinet and bring in a new set.
Whatever they had tampered with, I couldn't use them anymore.
I began weighing and preparing the herbs. The miracle doctor's medicine bags were like treasure chests, containing hundreds of small pouches labeled with different names. Whatever medicine he mentioned, he had it.
After preparing the new prescription, I soaked and rinsed the herbs in water. Then, I took the last dose of warmed medicine from the stove and set it aside to cool. I relit the fire and placed the washed herbs into a clay pot to decoct.
Traditional Chinese medicine emphasizes the synergy of king, minister, assistant, and envoy ingredients. Seemingly lifeless plants, they were merely dormant in their dried forms; once awakened, they would release boundless energy.
These past few days, I had deeply experienced the magic of this dark liquid. It could restore vitality to someone on the brink of death, transforming them from a bedridden patient to someone moving freely, all within a day or two.
I tested the temperature of the cup with my hand; it was about right. I then turned down the heat under the decocting pot, picked up the cup, closed the door to the preparation room, and went to administer the medicine to Wu Guodong.
Wu Guodong had already gotten out of bed and was walking around the room.
He was wearing a silk pajama set with a white background and blue orchids. Without his military uniform, he appeared as an elderly gentleman.
At his age, he should have been a grandfather, with two or three grandchildren playfully around his knees, enjoying his twilight years. Yet, here he was, still on a battlefield filled with the smoke of conflict, fighting for survival every day.
The enemies in this war were not only the pressure from anti-drug organizations worldwide and the encirclement by government forces but also, most crucially, the internal threat from those restless individuals eager to usurp his position.
These people were more terrifying than any other enemy.
I watched him finish the medicine, took the empty cup, and hurried back to the preparation room to keep an eye on the decocting pot.
After the incident where the cabinet was tampered with last time, I felt uneasy, always sensing someone watching the preparation room.
Wang Dong's death would make them restrain themselves temporarily; they wouldn't be foolish enough to court disaster. However, I couldn't afford to be careless. Precautions must be taken.
I opened the door to the preparation room and saw the blue flame burning, the medicine pot already boiling and bubbling with a gurgling sound. Only then did I feel relieved, thinking perhaps I was being too sensitive and overthinking.
I opened the stack of unsealed glass cups delivered by the guards and placed them in the sink to wash.