Before Wenren Taibo could speak, Cheng Wenzheng, filled with excitement, spoke up first, “Fourth young lady, were you previously known by the surname Lin and once traveled with Divine Doctor Lin, practicing medicine and treating patients?”

Wenren Taibo, though not opposed to his daughter continuing to practice medicine, certainly did not want her past to be something widely known. His brow furrowed, and his gaze turned stern, showing clear displeasure.

Just as Wenren Taibo was about to deny the claim, Cheng Wenzheng eagerly interrupted again, “If not for your intervention back then, my mother would likely have spent the rest of her life dependent on medicine, perhaps even bedridden. I’ve always regretted not properly thanking you and Divine Doctor Lin at the time. I certainly didn’t expect that I would see you again today. Please, allow me to express my deepest gratitude.”

With those words, Cheng Wenzheng bowed deeply, a full ninety-degree bend at the waist, showing sincere and extreme respect.

“No need for such a grand gesture, my lord. I’m but a humble woman; how can I accept this?” Xiao Cao quickly sidestepped to avoid the bow.

Straightening up, Cheng Wenzheng continued, “Young lady…”

Xiao Cao waved her hand dismissively, “It is true that I once went by the surname Lin and traveled with my foster father, practicing medicine together. But this may simply be a coincidence.”

“How could that be?” Cheng Wenzheng’s face showed urgency. “The scar on your brow—while it’s barely noticeable now unless one looks closely—was there even when you were younger. And the injury on your arm, which you incurred while saving my mother, is also unmistakable proof. Divine Doctor Lin was a compassionate man, and you, young lady, were no less kind-hearted. The two of you saved countless people, bestowing untold gratitude upon many families. It’s understandable that you don’t remember, given how many years have passed and how many lives you’ve touched. But for me, it’s something I’ve never forgotten, not even for a day.”

Xiao Cao placed her left hand over the back of her right hand and absentmindedly rubbed the area near her wrist. At age seven, she had accompanied her foster father to a village—its name she had long since forgotten. As she was feeling unwell, she hadn’t followed her foster father into the mountains to gather medicine and instead wandered on a hillside nearby. A woman had fallen while chopping wood. In her haste to help, Xiao Cao had slipped on some moss. As luck would have it, a hatchet had fallen from above, and though Xiao Cao had been quick enough to pull her hand back, the blade had left a deep cut about ten centimeters long on her arm. A faint scar remained even now. Because healing salves weren’t applied initially, the scar never fully disappeared, but Xiao Cao had never been too concerned about it, and her foster father, being “careless” in such matters, hadn’t paid much attention either.

Such a unique incident was hard to forget. “Now that you mention it, I do recall something of the sort,” Xiao Cao admitted.

Upon hearing her acknowledgment, Cheng Wenzheng’s face flushed with excitement.

“Ahem,” Wenren Taibo couldn’t contain himself any longer and let out a loud cough. This rascal—where exactly are your eyes wandering?

Realizing where he was and how inappropriate his reaction had been, Cheng Wenzheng immediately lowered his head in shame. “Just now, I caught sight of the scar and, in my eagerness to confirm the young lady’s identity, behaved rather rashly. I deeply apologize for any offense I may have caused.”

“No offense taken.”

“Thank you for your understanding. My mother has worried about the injury you sustained while saving her all these years. She feared it might have left some lasting issue. After all, the cut was quite severe, and Divine Doctor Lin remained reticent about your condition. If any hidden harm remained… that would truly be a source of guilt for my family.”

“It was merely a superficial wound. At the time, it looked more frightening than it actually was.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Cheng Wenzheng said, visibly relieved and genuinely delighted.

“And what of your mother? Did she suffer any lasting effects? The bones and organs were involved, after all, and if not properly healed, she might indeed have required continual medication.”

“No such worries. My mother has been in great health, robust and strong. She can carry things and walk for an hour without even losing her breath,” Cheng Wenzheng beamed with pride. “This is all thanks to you. Divine Doctor Lin himself said that she was lucky you acted so quickly. If we had waited for him to come out of the mountains, the situation might have been much worse. In fact, he even hinted that my mother’s case could have been untreatable at that point. Even after she fully recovered, many other physicians who re-examined her marveled at how well she had healed. Some even said it was nothing short of miraculous.”

“Ultimately, it was my foster father’s skill that made the difference. Like most fathers, he enjoyed boasting about his child, so he probably overstated my role a bit.”

Cheng Wenzheng couldn’t say for certain whether or not her foster father had exaggerated, but the importance of that “timely intervention” was unmistakable. Everyone knew the longer an external injury went untreated, the more dangerous it became. Cheng Wenzheng would never forget the contribution made by Miss Lin—now Miss Wenren.

After expressing his gratitude several more times, Cheng Wenzheng’s sincerity became almost overwhelming.

Xiao Cao, feeling a bit flustered, gave a pleading look towards Wenren Taibo, seeking some form of rescue.

Wenren Taibo, sharing a similar perspective as Han Shi, felt that since Cheng Wenzheng didn’t seem the type to go blabbing all over, there was no need to outright reject any further discussion. However, seeing his daughter’s implicit request for help, he knew he couldn’t just sit idly by.

“Alright now, Wenzheng, there’s no need to keep going on like this. My daughter has practiced medicine alongside her foster father all her life. She’s soft-hearted and kind, so when she comes across someone in need of help, she can’t just stand by and do nothing. By now, it’s something she’s quite used to. But you, carrying on like this, are making it difficult for her to handle.”

Xiao Cao glanced at her father. You’re trying to rescue me, but why are you praising me at the same time? Are all fathers like this, or is it just mine?

Having already been showered with her foster father’s boasts from a young age, Xiao Cao was long immune to such praise, her heart remaining steady, her blush nowhere to be found.

Truth be told, her foster father had been incredibly bad at raising children—that much was certain. Beyond imparting medical knowledge, in many other aspects, he had been practically “handicapped,” almost to the point of “stupidity.” Had Xiao Cao actually been a normal child, she likely wouldn’t have survived under his care.

But she had been her foster father’s pride and joy. Especially in comparison to other children, there was no doubt in his mind of her superiority.

He had always been someone of few words, but there were two situations where he could chatter endlessly.

The first was when discussing medical knowledge. Whether it was a disease, a treatment method, or anything else under the medical realm, he would mutter the information aloud, over and over again. It was because of this habit that Xiao Cao had been able to “secretly” learn medical skills while still in her cradle.

The second situation occurred whenever someone brought up the topic of children. His mood would instantly lift, and he would boast endlessly. His daughter was well-behaved and mature, never crying or acting up. She was exceptionally intelligent—by the age of three or four, she could recite medical texts backwards and was capable of taking care of herself. She needed no help or supervision and, on top of it all, was extraordinarily filial, reminding him to eat on time and even assisting with the preparation of herbs. In short, she was “the perfect daughter.”

There wasn’t a hint of modesty in his words.

Whoever heard him boast like that would surely react with polite but disbelieving smiles, their lips twitching as they forced themselves to agree. “She’s like a rare gem fallen from the heavens!” they’d say, sucking up to him because, well—what else could they do? Divine Doctor Lin was a good man, after all. He just had this one little quirk of loving to brag about his daughter. What could they do but encourage him?

Meanwhile, Xiao Cao would sit there smiling sweetly with a look of innocent bewilderment, though internally she was laughing sarcastically.

Her foster father had never truly interacted with normal children. If he had, he would have known how utterly abnormal she was. Even real child prodigies weren’t as “multi-talented” as she appeared to be. Before she could even speak in full sentences, she was already finding ways to subtly indicate her needs. After a few instances of this, her foster father caught on, figuring out how to better care for her. Later on, he didn’t need to intervene much at all. It was because she was so easy to raise that he refused to entrust her care to anyone else. Xiao Cao herself preferred staying with him as there was no need for her to expend effort pretending to be a “normal child.”

Had anyone else discovered her unusual abilities, she might very well have been labeled a freak and perhaps even burned at the stake.

So now, whenever people praised her as though she were a once-in-a-generation genius, she remained calm and composed, smiling all the while. After all, compared to the constant basking in her foster father’s pride and glory, this was child’s play.