Shi Zhu abruptly opened his eyes. What met them were solid wooden beams and a light-brown ceiling.
As if remembering something, Shi Zhu threw off the quilt beside him and was about to get out of bed.
Before he could even put on his shoes, he staggered toward the door.
Before his body could adjust, he fell to the floor with a thud.
The medical hall apprentice who had rushed over at the news hurriedly helped Shi Zhu back to the bed and explained, "Constable, your internal organs have been injured. You need to rest and must not lose your temper."
"Cough, cough." Shi Zhu coughed twice. Only when he covered his mouth did he notice thin streaks of blood falling into his rough palm.
His palm suddenly felt warm and wet.
He clenched his hand and struggled to get up.
Perhaps remembering that this was a medical hall, Shi Zhu reached for the money pouch in his clothes and asked, "How much is the consultation fee?"
The teenage apprentice arranged the bedding as he replied, "Someone has already paid the consultation fee for you, Constable."
"Paid already? Who was it?"
A trace of astonishment appeared on Shi Zhu's face as his large hand, already inside his inner pocket, pulled out the money pouch.
Since he had neither parents, wife, nor children, Shi Zhu never saved money. He kept a few bits of silver for emergencies, while spending most of the rest at taverns and flower houses. Especially after going out, he would always return to seek out girls he knew well, so his money pouch was always flat.
Now, there seemed to be something more in it.
"It was a tall, thin, middle-aged man with a goatee, dressed in a long robe."
"The tea house attendant brought you here