Chapter 017 The Qi Family Members

Grandfather Qi was overjoyed when he saw this, immediately clapping his hands and saying, “Wonderful! I never thought our Yi would have such a remarkable memory. In that case, from now on, come to me every evening, and I’ll teach you other things.”

His excitement was clear—after all, the village of Zhang wasn’t far from the Qi family home. Even walking, it would only take an adult about ten minutes to reach.

Yi Huang didn’t mind learning more; she mainly felt uncertain about her future, unsure what path she might take, so learning more would give her more options. “I’m fine with it, but I’ll need to tell my parents first.”

Grandfather Qi rubbed Yi Huang’s head. “Good, as long as you agree. Leave the rest to me. After school every day, come to me, do your homework here, have dinner, and your parents can pick you up in the evening.”

Yi Huang nodded in agreement.

When the afternoon tide receded, Qi Jian She took Yi Huang to the seaside to forage.

The tide withdrew just after three o’clock, and Qi Jian She brought Yi Huang to the shore a little before three, waiting for the tide to recede before they began searching.

There were quite a few people out foraging at this time.

“Uncle, there are so many people!” Yi Huang observed the crowd, buckets in hand, shovels at the ready, and realized how true the saying was—those who live by the sea rely on it. Locals were already experts at foraging from the shore.

Qi Jian She was used to these scenes, smiling lightly. “Let’s go. There are lots of treasures on the shore—it all depends on our luck.”

Yi Huang followed him, barefoot in the sand as the waves gently washed over her feet, finding the whole experience delightful.

“Uncle, look!” Yi Huang spotted a huge jellyfish.

Qi Jian She walked over, examined it, and laughed. “A whole jellyfish—perfectly intact. You have sharp eyes, Yi.”

“Of course, I’m not nearsighted. Besides, it’s so big—how could I miss it?” Yi Huang was pleased with her luck. Here, jellyfish were called sea jellies, and this one weighed almost twenty pounds. The skin and the tentacles were sold separately, and though it was heavy, local hotels always needed them, especially since chilled jellyfish was a famous local dish.

Qi Jian She tossed the jellyfish into a nearby bucket, planning to deliver it to a familiar hotel later. They continued scanning the shore for more “prey.”

This outing was meant for Yi Huang’s enjoyment, so Qi Jian She wasn’t focused on serious foraging; her safety was his priority.

“Uncle, over there!” Yi Huang noticed a splash of red in the distance. She ran over, and was amazed to find a red coral. Though not large, only about fifty centimeters high, its color was pure.

Red coral was a treasure without a fixed price; even today, there was no shortage of wealthy collectors, and pure coral was highly valued both as a collectible and as a material for jewelry.

Qi Jian She saw it too, glanced around to be sure no one else had noticed, quickly picked up the coral and slipped it into a burlap sack, carrying it in a way that looked as if he were simply clearing debris from the shore.

A true forager didn’t just collect seafood but also picked up any trash washed ashore—scraps of wood or unknown fragments.

A few days ago, someone had found an abandoned iron sphere. After turning it in, they learned it was an unexploded torpedo. Since then, fishermen and foragers routinely carried away discarded items to eliminate any risks.

Qi Jian She’s method of hiding the red coral was wise; for collectors, the purer the coral, the higher its value. If others noticed, it would attract unwanted attention—best to keep wealth hidden.

Yi Huang understood this and had no objections. Her gaze lingered on the shore.

There were many things on the beach, but after finding the red coral, their luck seemed spent. The rest were common items: mud snails, sand crabs, and even a few cat-eye snails.

Qi Jian She was concerned that Yi Huang might get chilled from staying too long by the sea, so unlike usual, he only let her play for a while before taking her back to the Qi family home.

After returning, Yi Huang washed her hands and went to find Grandfather Qi, who was taking a pulse for someone. Only then did she realize he could diagnose illnesses. After checking the pulse, Grandfather Qi asked a few questions and wrote a prescription—clearly there was no pharmacy at home, so he provided only the prescription, not the medicine.

“Grandfather, are you a doctor?” she asked curiously after the visitor left.

Grandfather Qi rubbed her head. “No, I just read widely—so I know a bit about many things, including traditional medicine. Usually, I only check pulses and write prescriptions; they have to go to the pharmacy on West Street for the medicine. I don’t supply it.”

He paused and continued, “I only see neighbors and acquaintances. Others, I don’t treat. Even though I know traditional medicine, I don’t have a doctor’s certificate. These days, no one reports it, but if someone wanted trouble, it wouldn’t be hard. So unless it’s someone familiar, I don’t check pulses for strangers.”

He looked at Yi Huang with a serious expression. “Yi, remember this: kindness and connections are important, but you must always be cautious. I know you’re a clever child and will understand.”

Since discovering Yi Huang’s extraordinary memory, Grandfather Qi had resolved to nurture her carefully.

He had children of his own, but never believed an heir must be a son or bear the Qi name.

The Qi family’s legacy was never obvious. From ancient times to today, they’d survived for centuries. Without substance and ability, how could they still live in their own tiled house, especially during wartime, when danger was everywhere? Yet the Qi family remained safe, proving they were never as simple as they appeared.

But the true legacy of the Qi family was only revealed to the heir. Grandfather Qi never intended for Jian Hua or Jian She to inherit. If he hadn’t found Yi Huang, he might have chosen Jian She in a few years—his mind was more agile, whereas Jian Hua was steady, fit to keep things as they were, but not to push forward. Jian She was better for innovation.