After encountering Muzan again, although no conflict erupted due to both sides' restraint, Cheng Mo still felt a sense of urgency.
He was afraid that Muzan might stir up trouble at this critical juncture, so he intensified his investigation into Tamayo.
This day.
The tranquility of the Jianji Hall's backyard was broken by the faint commotion from the front hall.
Tanjirou, having finished his morning training, was helping the junior apprentices sort the dried medicinal herbs when he heard the slightly hurried footsteps of Matsushita Eiichi.
The elderly man's face held a complex emotion.
"Tanjiro-kun, please ask Mr. Cheng to come to the study," Matsushita Eiichi's voice was lower than usual.
Tanjirou quickly assented and trotted to knock on Cheng Mo's door.
Cheng Mo opened the door quickly; since his last unexpected encounter with Muzan, he had become even more focused on his cultivation.
He seemed to have just emerged from some deep meditation or thought, his eyes still holding a trace of unvanished sharpness.
"Teacher, Mr. Matsushita has asked you to come to the study."
Cheng Mo nodded, asking no further questions, and walked directly to the study.
Tanjirou hesitated for a moment but quietly followed, waiting outside the study door.
He could sense that something important was about to happen.
Inside the study, Matsushita Eiichi handed an invitation to Cheng Mo: "Mr. Cheng, this just arrived.
It's from a branch family of the Mitsui clan, a wealthy silk merchant, who has recently been experiencing chest tightness and shortness of breath, and has found no relief from numerous renowned doctors."
"He heard of your reputation from somewhere and specifically arranged this, inviting you to a private medical salon held tonight at the 'Shimizu-ya' ryotei."
Cheng Mo took the invitation and glanced at it.
The location was a high-end ryotei in Asakusa District, known for its exclusivity and expense.
"Attendees also include the vice-director of the University of Tokyo's affiliated hospital, several famous Kanpo doctors, and... some social elites who are particularly concerned about health issues," Matsushita Eiichi added, emphasizing the last few words.
"More importantly, according to information we just confirmed, Madam Ogata of 'Gotō-an' is highly likely to attend.
It's said that the host of the salon invited her to help identify an extremely rare 'exotic overseas medicine.'"
Cheng Mo's gaze instantly focused, his fingertip lightly tapping the invitation.
"I understand," he said, his tone calm, betraying no emotion.
"Prepare accordingly; I will attend on time."
As night fell, the "Shimizu-ya" ryotei was hidden behind bamboo fences, with only two dim yellow lanterns at the entrance marking the way in.
Inside was a traditional Japanese garden layout, with individual tea rooms spaced far apart, ensuring absolute privacy.
Guided by a server, Cheng Mo removed his shoes and stepped into a spacious tea room.
Seven or eight people were already seated inside, and the air was filled with a faint mixture of tea, medicinal herbs, and expensive incense.
Several men who looked like doctors in Western suits or kimonos were conversing in low voices, while others, appearing to be wealthy merchants or nobles, sat quietly on their knees to the side.
Cheng Mo's appearance drew some attention; his overly young face and calm, austere demeanor seemed somewhat out of place in such a setting.
He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, took an empty seat, and his gaze seemingly casually swept across the room.
The Eye of Truth had passively detected a special presence the moment he stepped into the tea room.
In the innermost corner of the tea room, a lady sat quietly on her knees, wearing a light purple twisted-silk kimono, her face slightly veiled by a thin gauze of the same color.
Her posture was elegant, her aura so serene it almost blended with her surroundings.
But in Cheng Mo's perception, beneath that seemingly delicate human shell, lay an extremely pure, condensed, and incredibly resilient energy fluctuation, tinged with a subtle sadness.
Unlike Muzan's monstrous sea of malice, this was a highly self-controlled, non-human life form, refined by long years.
It was her, Tamayo.
Cheng Mo withdrew his gaze, looking down as if merely attending an ordinary gathering.
The salon began.
Everyone exchanged pleasantries, and then the conversation naturally turned to medicine.
The merchant with chest tightness briefly described his symptoms, and several Western doctors and Kanpo doctors offered their opinions, ranging from heart disease to spleen and stomach disharmony, leading to a deadlock in their arguments.
The host of the salon, a nobleman—an elderly man with white hair and beard but still energetic—smiled and raised a hand to stop the debate: "You are all distinguished experts, and each has valid points.
However, I invited you all here today for another matter."
He clapped his hands, and a server brought in a zitan wood tray, on which lay a strangely shaped, dark red, dried root with a peculiar pungent aroma.
"I purchased this item at great expense from the South Seas.
It is said that the local natives call it 'Blood Dragon Root,' and it possesses miraculous effects of strengthening the heart, building the body, and prolonging life."
"But its properties are unpredictable, and I dared not use it rashly.
Today, as fate would have it, I wish to invite all of you esteemed experts to appraise it together and see what the true value of this legendary miraculous medicine is."
The tray was passed among the attendees.
The Western doctors took out magnifying glasses to examine it carefully, sniffing and pinching it, discussing alkaloids and possible extraction methods; the Kanpo doctors meticulously distinguished its color, smell, and shape, attempting to categorize it within the traditional medicinal theory system.
The debate reignited, with no one able to convince another.
Finally, the tray reached Cheng Mo and Madam Ogata.
The nobleman host smiled as he looked at the two of them: "Mr. Cheng is young and accomplished, with novel insights, and Madam Ogata is deeply knowledgeable about medicinal properties and rich in experience.
What are your esteemed opinions on this item?"
All eyes converged.
Cheng Mo first picked up the "Blood Dragon Root," his fingertips seemingly casually touching it; the Eye of Truth had already clearly perceived its subtle internal energy flow and material composition.
He put down the root and spoke in a steady voice: "This item contains a special terpene compound and alkaloid, which can indeed temporarily stimulate the myocardium, accelerate blood flow, and give a false sense of vigor.
However, its components are unstable and easily oxidize to produce toxicity.
Long-term or excessive consumption will not only fail to prolong life but will also damage the liver and even induce arrhythmia."
He then used terminology comprehensible in that era to explain its mechanism of action and potential risks in a clear and concise manner, with logical clarity, causing the Western doctors present to nod repeatedly.
Tamayo—Madam Ogata—slightly raised her eyes, her gaze from behind the thin veil seemingly looking at Cheng Mo, then she softly added, her voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority: "Mr. Cheng is absolutely correct.
This item is fiery in nature, yet it is like a rootless tree, burning out and perishing.
If judged by traditional medicinal properties, it is not a tonic but a substance of 'great dryness and great depletion.'"
"Unless used for emergency treatment of certain extreme cold-deficiency and collapse syndromes, and even then, it requires a large amount of yin-nourishing and yang-constraining medicinal herbs to neutralize its potent properties; otherwise... the harm far outweighs the benefits."
From the perspective of medicinal interactions, she further corroborated Cheng Mo's judgment and proposed an extremely complex and subtle compounding theory to mitigate its toxicity.
Her incisive insights and profound understanding of medicinal properties made the Kanpo doctors present feel ashamed of their own knowledge.
The two complemented each other perfectly, one analyzing from modern pharmacology, the other elucidating from traditional medicinal properties, dissecting the inner and outer mysteries of this exotic medicine to the fullest extent, creating a seamless synergy.
The tea room was momentarily silent, then filled with exclamations of admiration.
The nobleman host repeatedly nodded: "Listening to your words is better than ten years of study!
I almost mistakenly consumed poison!
Thank you, Mr. Cheng, thank you, Madam Ogata!"
The salon drew to a close amidst an atmosphere of profound academic appreciation.
People began to depart one after another.
Cheng Mo deliberately slowed his tidying, waiting until Madam Ogata also rose and walked towards the door, accompanied by a taciturn attendant, before he seemingly casually followed her out.
The ryotei garden was serene, moonlight spilling onto the bluestone path.
Ahead, Tamayo's back was preparing to board the waiting carriage.
Cheng Mo quickened his steps, stopping a short distance behind her, his voice low but clearly reaching her ears:
"Madam's insights just now far exceed the current medical scope; they left a deep impression on me."
Tamayo's steps paused, but she did not immediately turn back.
Cheng Mo continued in a low voice, his words like a precise surgical knife, striking at the core: "I have considerable research on certain special blood diseases, especially in areas involving abnormal cell proliferation, and even... fundamental changes in morphological structure."
"Coincidentally, I happen to have some extremely rare active samples and data.
I wonder if Madam... might be interested in taking a look?"
Under the moonlight, Tamayo's figure seemed to stiffen slightly.
She was silent for a moment, with only the faint chirping of insects and the distant, indistinct sound of carriages and horses.
Finally, she slowly turned around, her gaze from behind the thin veil calm yet tinged with a hint of complexity, falling upon Cheng Mo's face through the light gauze.
Scrutiny, wariness, and a trace of an unmaskable tremor, belonging to a researcher hearing the ultimate temptation.
She neither admitted nor denied anything, merely giving a vague instruction in her still calm tone.
"Tomorrow morning, on the second floor of the Qing You Hall bookstore on the back street of Senso-ji Temple, you might... find some obscure ancient texts that interest you."
Having said that, she lingered no longer, gave a slight nod, and turned to board the carriage.
The carriage curtains fell, separating inside from out.
The carriage slowly drove away, disappearing into the night.
Cheng Mo stood in place, the moonlight stretching his shadow long.
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