Miss Jun immediately understood who he was referring to.
While adults can control their emotions, children find it hard to pretend that nothing is amiss. After all, they were father and daughter.
"He's quite handsome," she said with a smile, gesturing with her hand, "tall like this, a bit thin, but very fit. He likes to walk with a bit of a swagger."
As she spoke, she imitated her master's gait and took a few steps, stopping in front of Zhao Hanqing.
Zhao Hanqing, who had been watching intently, suddenly stepped back to avoid her gaze when she stood close, and subconsciously raised her hand to shield her face.
"His eyes look the same as yours," Miss Jun continued, undeterred by her evasion, focusing on the pair of eyes exposed.
Zhao Hanqing glanced at her.
"He also painted portraits for you," Miss Jun spoke softly, "portraits of you from your childhood to the present."
Zhao Hanqing's eyes flickered like ignited flames, a mix of doubt, shock, joy, and anxiety.
"Would you like to see them?" Miss Jun asked gently, afraid that too loud a voice would scare her away, and without waiting for an answer, she walked back to sit by the rock, opened her medical kit, and took out the handwritten notes, "Your mother disagrees, so I won't make things difficult for you. You don't have to look at anything else, just take a glance at your portrait and see if it looks like you."
She rambled on, swiftly flipping through the handwritten notes until she stopped at the last page.
The rustling sound gradually approached, and a shadow loomed beside her.
Miss Jun didn't raise her head, her hands gently caressing the image of the four or five-year-old girl on the paper.
"This is you when you were little, isn't it?" she inquired.
"That's not me," Zhao Hanqing said, preparing to retreat.
But Miss Jun had already grabbed her arm and looked up at her.
"This is you," she insisted, flipping through until the last portrait of a fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl, "This is you."
Zhao Hanqing's expression became agitated.
"How can this be me? I'm so ugly," she cried out, pointing to the portrait on the handwritten notes, "She's so pretty, and I'm so ugly, so ugly."
Miss Jun held on to her arm tightly.
"You're not ugly. It's because you've been ill, and when your illness is cured, you will look like this," she said gravely, "Your dad drew you as you would look once you're healed."
Zhao Hanqing, looking at Miss Jun and then at the portrait, breathed heavily, shaking uncontrollably.
"Your dad left to find a cure for your illness. He traveled far and wide, all to find the medicine that could heal you," Miss Jun continued, gripping her arm firmly.
Zhao Hanqing stared at the portrait for a moment, then turned her gaze to Miss Jun.
"Where is he then? Why hasn't he come back?" she asked, her tone interrogative but her eyes filled with undeniable hope.
Because he's dead, Miss Jun felt a burning pain in her throat.
"Because there's one more medicine he hasn't found," she said earnestly, "but the prescription has been found. I'll start treating you, and when your dad comes back with the last medicine, your illness will be completely cured."
Zhao Hanqing looked at her, half-believing and half-doubting.
"You must know how amazing your dad is," Miss Jun said, looking into her eyes.
Zhao Hanqing cast her eyes downward.
Everyone here knew how extraordinary that man was; his stories were told daily, and even young children could recite them by heart.
"He's incredible, truly incredible," Miss Jun's voice continued, "Since he painted you so beautifully, you'll definitely become that beautiful. If you don't trust me, don't you trust him? Hanqing, let me treat you," she said.
After she finished speaking, silence fell between the two.
This silence was brief, as Zhao Hanqing reached out and tore off her veil the next moment.
"I don't trust him," she declared, looking at Miss Jun, "I trust you."
.........…
The night was deep, yet the light inside the room remained bright. A soft noise came from the other side.
Miss Jun turned her head to see Liu'er had knocked her pillow down while sleeping in the outer room.
Miss Jun smiled and got up to put her pillow back in place. Liu'er did not wake up, murmured a few words in her sleep, turned over, and wrapped herself tight in the blanket.
Miss Jun returned to her desk, rubbing her sore eyes.
She had finally understood the meanings behind some of the fragmented and seemingly chaotic symptoms recorded in her master's handwritten notes, many of which were related to Zhao Hanqing's type of chrysanthemum sores.
Chrysanthemum sores was also a term mentioned in the handwritten notes.
When she was born, it wasn't obvious, but as she grew older, the blemish grew increasingly larger. For a girl, having such a growth on her face was akin to the ruination of her life. Not to mention, it could worsen, and who knows when it might claim her life.
For a master who was both intelligent and proud, having such a disease afflict his daughter and being unable to cure it was indeed a great blow.
So is that why he left home, vowing not to return until he found a cure for the illness?
Miss Jun sighed.
There was no doubt that the Immortal Ziying's Plant was for Zhao Hanqing's illness, but one or two plants were clearly not enough.
The master didn't have enough, and now she didn't have enough either.
Moreover, curing it wasn't just about relying on the Immortal Ziying's Plant. Miss Jun rubbed her face and pondered slowly; since the master had already started looking for medicine, he must have a method. The jumbled information in these handwritten notes, if properly studied, would surely yield the prescription.
The lights inside the house were extinguished one by one, plunging the mountain village into silence.
...........
"How did you make Uncle Iron Foot's foot?"
Hearing the voice, Miss Jun raised her head and looked at the girl squatting in the tree.
"It's both bothersome and simple," she replied with a smile, carefully digging out a herb, "boiling beef tendons for the foot and forging iron for the framework."
With a 'thump,' Zhao Hanqing jumped down from the tree.
At first sight, Miss Jun was startled, but after seeing her every day for a few days, she became accustomed to it. The girl moved about the mountain and leapt between tree branches with ease and natural grace.
Yang Jing's wife had mentioned that due to the sores on her face, the mother and daughter always lived on the mountain. Zhao Hanqing seldom interacted with the villagers and had played alone on the mountain since childhood, always accompanied by Xia Yong for hunting and teaching her various skills.
Climbing trees was no challenge for someone who found joy in the mountains.
"Did he teach you all of these?" Zhao Hanqing asked.
"Yes," replied Miss Jun with a nod, followed by another smile, "He taught me more than just that. There were many things I didn't pay attention to at the time and only later realized how important those skills were."
Zhao Hanqing looked down at her own hands.
"He really liked you," she said. "You are so beautiful."
Miss Jun set down her shovel and stood up.
"Firstly, he didn't particularly like me," she said. "Moreover, his leaving wasn't because of being beautiful or otherwise. Finally, you aren't ugly; you're just sick. It was because he liked you that he left you."
Zhao Hanqing swiftly glanced up at her.
"If he didn't like you, why would he teach you so much?" she questioned.
Miss Jun blinked.
"Because I pestered him, and he had no choice," she said, then laughed again, "Actually, he really disliked me."
Zhao Hanqing, who rarely interacted with others, found such words somewhat puzzling.
If liking someone means leaving them, does disliking them mean staying by their side?
"Don't think too much about it. Let's get back to work," Miss Jun said, patting her shoulder. "You can help too."
"Me? What can I help with?" said Zhao Hanqing. "I don't know how to gather herbs or heal diseases."
Miss Jun draped an arm over her shoulder and pointed to a tree.
"Do you see that cicada on the tree?" she asked.
The deep autumn forest was lush with branches and leaves in a riot of colors, dazzling to the eye in the morning light.
No sooner had Miss Jun finished speaking than Zhao Hanqing nodded.
"You can climb trees, so help me catch five…" Miss Jun was saying.
Before she could finish, Zhao Hanqing fished something out of her waistband and threw it, and with a sharp chirp, the cicada fell from the tree.
Miss Jun was taken aback.
"No need to climb trees, this works," Zhao Hanqing said.
Miss Jun came to her senses and looked at her.
"You're really amazing," she said with a face full of surprise.
***************************
Hmm, everyone says take it slow, so let's add one more update.