Chapter 19: Grandfather and Granddaughter
In Linshui County, there was a place called Wangyue Tower, known for its rich cuisine and unique rice wine. It was quite well-reviewed.
Fang Han had eaten there a few times and indeed found it quite good.
Bringing Cheng Lingsu along this time, as soon as they entered, the shop boy noticed guests arriving and called out before even stepping forward:
“Welcome, welcome—please, come inside!”
Upon seeing who it was, he let out a small “Oh!” of surprise and greeted joyfully:
“Oh! It’s Mister Fang! Forgive me, I didn’t recognize you right away. Please come in, come in~”
Fang Han smiled and said,
“Brother Qi, you’re too polite.”
This shop boy, Qi Sheng, had visited Fang Han’s clinic last month with his mother, so they knew each other.
Inside, the shopkeeper was absentmindedly working the abacus. Hearing Qi Sheng’s voice, he looked over.
As soon as he saw Fang Han, he stood up and greeted him with a smile:
“Mister Fang! What brings you here today? It’s been a while since your last visit.”
Fang Han responded cheerfully,
“Things have been calmer lately, so I thought I’d revisit your fine dishes and wine—same as always.”
This shopkeeper, surnamed Gao, was also one of Fang Han’s former patients.
He’d suffered from a stubborn condition requiring long-term medication. After a few acupuncture treatments from Fang Han, his symptoms improved greatly.
Because of this, the shopkeeper held Fang Han in high regard.
Glancing at the quiet, well-behaved Cheng Lingsu beside him, Fang Han added,
“It’s still early today, so no wine—just some tea will do.”
The shopkeeper laughed,
“Of course, of course. Please, come this way.”
He instructed the shop boy with a few words, then personally led Fang Han and Cheng Lingsu to a good seat by the window on the third floor.
He poured them a pot of tea and two fragrant cups before politely taking his leave.
Cheng Lingsu looked at Fang Han, a hint of admiration in her expression:
“Brother Fang, you always seem to earn people’s respect.”
Along the way, more than a dozen locals had greeted Fang Han.
Everyone had shown respect and warmth.
The young girl took note—and her heart stirred deeply.
She had never witnessed anything before.
Her master, Wuchen (literally “No Wrath”), was known as the Poison Hand Medicine King.
His medical skills were indeed superb, and he was a kind man at heart.
But his ways leaned heavily toward those of the Jianghu (the martial world).⁽¹⁾
He never intentionally harmed innocents, but poisoning others was his frequent method.
Though he only used poison on evildoers and martial rogues and always left room for an antidote, his involvement with poisons still made people wary and afraid.
Most people who looked at her master did so with suspicion and fear.
As for her senior brothers and sisters—w, om she had never met—her master had always said none of them were righteous or virtuous.
That “Poison Hand” title?
Much of it was thanks to those so-called disciples.
As for her martial uncle Shi Wanchen—
He was an outright villain. Ruthless.
Others avoided him like the plague, never mind respecting him.
So seeing what she saw today truly moved Cheng Lingsu.
She had never seen this kind of respect.
Fang Han glanced at her and said gently,
“Nothing in this world happens without reason. I treat others sincerely and heal them earnestly. In turn, they treat me with sincerity and respect.”
“Lingsu, your medical skills far surpass mine. If you show the same heart, they will surely come to respect you too.”
Cheng Lingsu shook her head slightly:
“Brother Fang, your words are golden. But my modest skills can’t compare—I wouldn’t dare claim such praise.”
“You—just stop being modest.” Fang Han chuckled, shaking his head.
The way he looked at Cheng Lingsu carried a trace of fondness and pity.
Such a lovely hidden gem of a girl—yet so thin and pitiful. She read to be nourished.
Cheng Lingsu’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she shyly sipped her tea.
Before long, their dishes were served one by one.
Qi Sheng even tossed in a few flattering remarks before departing with a grin.
Looking at the table full of delicious dishes, Fang Han didn’t use his chopsticks.
Instead, he took a fresh pair and picked out some choice morsels for Cheng Lingsu:
“Try these. The dishes here at Wangyue Tower are quite good.”
And just because it was ancient times didn’t mean the food had to be bland.
In Fang Han’s view, though the spices were fewer, the dishes weren’t tasteless.
They had a fresh, natural flavor that he had grown fond of.
Cheng Lingsu felt a warm glow inside and softly replied,
She began eating, slowly and gracefully—every movement refined.
Fang Han also started eating heartily, occasionally adding food to her plate.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs as two people came up.
An elderly man and a young girl.
The old man wore black.
The little girl was adorable—like a porcelain doll, her eyes bright and mischievous.
They appeared to be grandfather and granddaughter.
The old man gave the third floor a quick scan.
There weren’t many guests—just a few occupied tables.
His eyes passed over each one, pausing briefly when they landed on Fang Han and Cheng Lingsu.
An experienced Jianghu veteran like him had sharp eyes.
From their breathing patterns alone, he could tell the two of them had some level of internal strength.
But clearly, they weren’t high-level martial artists—s, he didn’t pay them much mind.
He led his granddaughter to a seat by another window.
The clever girl smiled sweetly and poured them tea.
The pair spoke quietly to one another.
Fang Han noticed them, glanced once, and narrowed his eyes slightly—
His first impression:
They’re dianghu people.
And that old man in black—absolutely a seasoned one.
That instinct came from two places:
One, ears of simulated life experiences had sharpened his intuition.
Two, his own medical and martial training gave him observational insight.
Though he had never been deep in the martial world during the simulation, he had spent years on its fringes.
His eyes and instincts were sharp.
His years as a doctor, trained in looking, listening, asking, and feeling⁽²⁾, also shaped his judgment.
The old man’s gait, posture, and mannerisms all spoke of someone with martial training.
His complexion was healthy, and his eyes gleamed with clarity—a clear sign of solid inner strength.
As for the little girl— Follow current novels on 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝙣𝙚𝙩
But in his mind, secondary.
Fang Han quickly looked away.
Even though he had guessed they were martial world folk, he had zero desire to interact.
Because if you strip away all the romanticized “Wuxia” fantasies—
Jianghu people mean trouble.
Endless, unnecessary trouble.
In the Life Simulation, when he realized his martial arts path had limits, he immediately withdrew.
He returned to Linshui County to live in peace—p, precisely because it was quiet and far from martial strife.
To him, Jianghu types—whether righteous or wicked—
All leaned too heavily on violence.
Yes, some would stand up for the weak…
One disagreement, and the sword is out.
That t, oo was common.
Fang Han had no desire to get entangled.
You never know what kind of person you’re dealing with.
Righteous? Evil? A killer with strange habits?
Better not to die before the real journey begins.
So his approach was respectful distance.
Cheng Lingsu, sharp as ever, sensed Fang Han’s thoughts from his expression.
She took the hint, didn’t look again, and simply continued eating quietly, small bites at a time.