Chapter 1: Instinct Knows No Time
In Guangzhou’s Medical Faculty library, despite the throngs of students, a profound silence hung in the air—one that felt strangely lonely. Bo Ya, a fourth year medical student whose passion for reading was matched only by her love for cooking, was a permanent fixture among these shelves.
She had devoured every book in the building. Now, her brows were knitted as she looked back and forth between a computer and a medical journal filled with statistics on emerging diseases that were most ignored.
“They obsess over drugs but never seek the root cause of the illness,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Can they really claim these treatments won’t leave the patients with a iceberg of side effects?” Bo Ya didn’t believe in medicine alone. She dreamt of healing through food—nourishing the body without the heavy burden of modern chemicals.
She rose to find something new to read. To her surprise, the librarian had opened the innermost room—a place that had been locked as long as she could remember. Bo Ya did not hesitate; she stepped inside.
The room was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. As she walked toward the left wall, she felt a strange, magnetic pull. Tucked deep behind other volumes was an old, leather-bound book. Though it bore no dust, its title was invisible.
The moment her fingers brushed the cover, a jolt of unnatural heat surged through her fingertips straight to her heart. She slowly opened it. The yellowed, brittle pages revealed ancient calligraphy:
“When bitter medicine fails to sustain life, let the ‘Gentle Flavors of Food’ dissolve the illness away.”
Suddenly, a brilliant golden light erupted from the pages. Bo Ya was blinded, her vision blurring into white. Yet, through the glare, a sweet, mellow aroma of herbal cuisine began to fill the room. The library dissolved into the light.
When she finally opened her eyes, she was met with a damp forest bathed in dappled sunlight. No bookshelves. No walls. Only rainforest and the choir of birds. She moved her body and realized she was wearing ancient Chinese cotton robes. Her hair, which usually brushed her shoulders, now flowed down to her waist.
This is not my time, she realized instantly.
“Argh! Help me!” A cry of pain echoed nearby.
Bo Ya turned to see man in ancient armor standing in a hesitant circle. In the center stood a towering man, his clothes tattered, swaying on his feet. As he began to collapse, Bo Ya’s instincts took over. She rushed forward to catch him. His heavy frame nearly sent them down, but she guided him to the ground slowly.
“Why aren’t you helping him?” she barked at the soldiers. “We... we were shocked,” one stammered, looking terrified. “We’ve never seen Lord Hou like this. We didn’t know what to do.” “Lucky, I caught him,” Bo Ya muttered. “Otherwise, his head would’ve hit the ground, and even a god couldn’t stitch that back together.”
She checked his vitals. The heat radiating from his skin was alarming. “Open your mouth. Let me see your tongue.” It was deep purple, covered in a thick, dry yellow coating like a parched field. Internal heat poison is attacking the liver and lungs!
“Is there a place to stay nearby?” she asked. “A temporary camp,” a soldier replied. “But we have no doctor...” “Then take him there now!” Bo Ya commanded. “I am a physician... I will manage this!”
