Grandfather Li had already prepared dinner, so when Shengsi arrived, she was just in time to eat. The old man had also tended to the wounded stranger in his room, and when they went there, the three of them stood and stared at the man. 

Chengxu leaned by the doorway. The old man clasped his hands behind his back as usual, his gaze fixed on Chuanhu. Meanwhile, Shengsi stood beside him, her lips twitching in stupefaction. 

She could hardly believe what her grandfather had told her. 

It was utterly ridiculous.

“You mean, Grandfather Li, I have to… bring him to our bathhouse?” Shengsi asked, still in shock. “And let him lie there with his head above the water?”

Her grandfather had said that, in order to perform the healing ritual, Xie Chuanhu would have to be soaked in a bath of cold herbal decoction, blessed through incantation. It was something only she could carry out through her divination with the coin.

“Why can’t it be done here?” Chengxu had been repeating for some time. “I object to such an arrangement, Grandfather Li.” His expression darkened slightly. “My sister’s reputation is at stake. Isn't it something to be taken seriously?”

Grandfather Li, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke as he looked toward the open door and the dimming surroundings. “The night has come... At such an hour, even the walls have no ears.” He paused briefly. “We both know Shengsi would do nothing improper. What more must I say to ease your concerns... both of yours?”

Tending to the stranger in a bath was one thing.

However—

For something built not for two to share, but for one’s private use, Shengsi could not help but feel that this was improper. 

Aside from that, this wasn't merely awkward. It truly crossed the bounds of propriety. Men and women were not to share such spaces, let alone one involving bathing. They were not even wedded! Even if nothing improper occurred, who would believe it? A single whisper could ruin a woman’s name, and once lost, how would she reclaim it? If anyone were to see it, she would have no way to defend herself.

The likes of Shengsi was not ignorant in this matter.

Not a single suitor would want someone whose modesty had been called into question!

Chengxu wanted to protest further. “But—”

“Chengxu, my grandson,” Grandfather Li called, which caused Chengxu to fall silent as the old man gave a deadpan expression. “Aren’t you asking why it can’t be done here?” He glanced at his grandson who coughed lightly. “In the first place, within traditional medical practice, this is something avoided, and for good reason. Cold and dampness are two of the Six Evils. If one’s exposed to them, their condition would generally worsen. 

“In his case, more specifically… an immersion bath could easily chill someone like Chuanhu, whose soul’s already wandering. In such a state, his Yang Qi would be further damaged. You both should understand that it’d only make it harder for him to wake.”

“Then why do this at all if it’s so dangerous?” Chengxu pressed, not so much seeking an answer as trying to force reason upon his grandfather.

“Chengxu, didn’t I tell you that what I intend for Shengsi is to proceed in the ways of a warlock?” Grandfather Li’s gaze turned toward Shengsi, the latter finding out he was steady and resolute. “Warlock physicians may be inspired by traditional medical practices, but they aren’t bound by them. They don’t remain stagnant, after all. See, they develop their own methods.”

Chengxu was tight-lipped.

“A thousand years have passed since we’ve entered the Era of the Warlocks. Though the law prohibits the use of magic, and the harnessing of it through the coin outside sanctioned matters such as war, Shengsi’s already crossed that line.” He looked at the sleeping stranger, whose face was as calm as a still river. “The moment she used it to save a life, knowing it was forbidden for personal or civilian use, she assumed responsibility.” His gaze shifted back to Shengsi. “I trust you understand that.”

There was indeed an imperial ordinance regarding the possession of the coin, and it was something Shengsi had long been aware of. It was one of the teachings she’d once feared, yet quietly prepared herself for. A warlock’s coin was regarded as an instrument of unnatural invocation, not meant for ordinary livelihood but for sanctioned necessity. Any use of the coin as a tool of daily convenience was deemed a disruption of the natural order. 

That was the essence of the Article I under the Coin Laws category of the Jiang Legal Code.

Article II stated that one must be licensed to wield a coin. Such licensure came directly from the Imperial Court, binding the wielder in service to the throne. Shengsi had no such license, nor was she meant to possess the coin at all.

“Grandfather Li, aren’t you forcing Shengsi into this by making her feel guilty?” Chengxu clenched his jaw and stepped forward. “The law also states that women aren’t permitted to wield a coin.”

“Well... you’re not entirely wrong, Chengxu.” Grandfather Li stroked his chin. “But need I remind you of Han Jizhu?”

At the mention of that name, something stirred in Shengsi’s mind. “Aunt Li told me about her.”

Not only her, because Chengxu had been there as well.

Grandfather Li moved to the foot of the bed and looked at Shengsi, who now wore a thoughtful expression. “Then tell me, what did Han Jizhu accomplish, hundreds of years ago?”

“Grandfather Li—”

“It’s alright, Brother Xuxu.” Shengsi gave her brother a reassuring smile before taking a seat by the table, clasping her hands together. “Han Jizhu, is it?” she first asked, but to herself. “Well, from what I remember... She was the Imperial Shaman who stood beside Emperor Jiang Yangwei. She was granted a coin at her own request, despite strong opposition from the imperial ministers, as the law forbade women from possessing one.”

“Then how did she prove herself?” Grandfather Li asked, unwavering.

“At first, wasn't she ridiculed?” Shengsi continued. “Even the ministers doubted her, for she couldn’t harness magic through the coin. Aunt Li, she told me Han Jizhu was questioned how someone who could only divine the future could be called a true shaman.” She sighed to ease her mind. “Yet her foresight was valuable to the Emperor, so that alone spared her from punishment. I don't know but... beyond that, she had little to justify her position.”

Shengsi’s hands tightened.

“That was until she foresaw a catastrophe that would soon befall the Jiang Dynasty, and prevented it. Some called it fortune, but others witnessed how the heavens responded.” Aunt Li even told her that the folktales regarded it as the coin shining brightly that almost blinded all civilians, even the Emperor himself. “To some extent, it granted both the omen and the means to avert disaster.” When she opened her eyes, she remembered the exact word her aunt said: “It was the first time… and the last.”

“It may’ve been her first and last,” Grandfather Li said, turning to Chengxu, “but it was enough to change the law.” He then informed, “An exemplary clause was later added, right? One that doesn’t forbid women from possessing a coin. In fact, that was what your Aunt Li told Shengsi.” His tone sharpened slightly. “And weren’t you the one who reminded her to carry it yesterday? You speak now as if you’ve forgotten.”

Chengxu pressed his lips together. 

Of course, he hadn’t forgotten, only that he’d assumed the oblivious Grandfather Li had.

The clause was clear, even more so, as women were permitted to possess a warlock’s coin without a license, as possession alone didn’t constitute invocation. Its presence in daily life wasn’t unlawful, so long as no arcane manifestation was produced.

That was what troubled Chengxu the most.

‘No arcane manifestation was produced.’

If anyone were to witness Shengsi invoking the coin, she’d have no choice but to flee. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be long before the military came for her. And if that happened, Chengxu wouldn’t have the guts to face his aunt, nor their parents.

Shengsi stood and walked toward the sleeping man, Xie Chuanhu. For a fleeting moment, she thought that if she were to scream and blame him, he might simply wake, and everything would be resolved. But that was nothing more than her own foolishness. What lay before her was real, and not something that could be undone by such whims.

When she looked at Grandfather Li, she carried the same determination she had shown when he first asked her to learn from him.

“Though I don’t see why we must argue over whether I should tend to him myself,” Shengsi said, rubbing her temples, “I’m not one to go back on what I’ve already agreed to.”

She had given her answer without hesitation, so why should she waver now?

“Zhi Shengsi!” Chengxu’s voice sharpened with frustration. “Have you lost your mind?” 

Had she?

Shengsi  turned to him. “Let’s not argue anymore, shall we?”