Chapter Fourteen: I Can Tell from the Bottle Alone That This Medicine Is Extraordinary

My God, just looking at it makes me hurt!

Zhang Qian could hardly bear to watch; the dissatisfaction that had just risen in his heart instantly vanished. He hurriedly reached out and gripped Ren Cong’s shoulder. “Brother Ren, what’s the matter? Quick, get up! If your clothes and shoes are lost, I’ll simply give them up. They’re just worldly possessions, and not worth much anyway.”

“Help! Please, master, save my father’s life!” Ren Cong’s words were on a completely different wavelength from Zhang Qian’s. He was crying and loudly pleading.

“Didn’t you already call for the imperial physician? I’m really not a master, I’ve never treated anyone!” Caught off guard by such a sudden request, Zhang Qian instinctively refused.

“Master, I beg you, I beg you. I’m willing to be your servant for life to repay you for saving my father!” Ren Cong, now delirious, refused to believe otherwise. He shuffled backward on his knees and again kowtowed heavily.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t! I really don’t know medicine!” Zhang Qian couldn’t bear to see him bash his head bloody, so he reached out again to stop him. But Ren Cong was convinced Zhang Qian could save his father, and scooted half a meter away, continuing to kowtow incessantly.

As he knocked his head, he wept and pleaded, “Master, have mercy, master, have mercy. My mother died early, and my father raised me. If he’s gone too, I—sob, sob, sob…”

“Stop crying, stop crying!” Zhang Qian himself was an orphan, all too familiar with the pain of losing both parents. Ren Cong’s cries struck a raw nerve, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. “I’ll go over and see for myself what’s going on with your father, and hear what the imperial physician has to say.”

Mentioning the imperial physician only made things worse; Ren Cong cried even louder. “Imperial Physician Sun, Imperial Physician Sun says all hope is lost! Master, save my father, I’m willing to pay any price, any price!”

“Just take me there first!” Zhang Qian wiped his face, steeling himself. “Don’t just cry. Your father is sick, so you should be the pillar of your family now. If you can’t even hold things together for him, he’ll be even more anxious, and that won’t help him recover!”

“I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry!” Ren Cong replied loudly, standing up and wiping his tears, but the more he wiped, the more tears flowed.

“Look at yourself! No wonder no one takes you seriously!” Infuriated by Ren Cong’s lack of composure and responsibility, Zhang Qian couldn’t help but shove his shoulder hard and commanded loudly, “Lead the way! The imperial physician may not be right! If he can’t save your father, it doesn’t mean other doctors can’t. Some people may have big reputations but little real skill! As long as you keep your wits about you, at worst, we’ll call every doctor in Chang’an!”

It was all empty talk, for if someone were truly beyond saving, even gathering all the doctors in Chang’an, or the world, would do no good. But for Ren Cong, who had never faced such a crisis alone, these words were like shots of courage. Immediately, he held back his tears, nodded vigorously, and led Zhang Qian at a swift pace toward the rear hall.

The main hall at the rear was already packed with people. More than half an hour ago, Zhang Qian had seen the elderly imperial physician Sun, who now sat slumped on a stool near the door, half-asleep. The young nobleman Duan Huaijian, who had come especially to visit Ren Qiong, was comforting Ren Yingying in a low voice. As for Steward Ren Fu, and the household guards Ren Quan, Ren Wu, and Ren Liu, they were all buzzing anxiously around a low table loaded with precious medicinal herbs, their faces grave.

When the chubby Ren Cong brought Zhang Qian in, Ren Quan, Ren Wu, and Ren Liu instantly brightened. The so-called young noble Duan immediately ceased comforting Ren Yingying and sat upright. Steward Ren Fu stepped sideways to block the bedroom door. “Young master, the manor lord is gravely ill, it’s not convenient for outsiders…”

“Move aside!” Ren Cong, worried for his father, shed his usual meek demeanor and pushed Steward Ren Fu three feet away. “Master, please come in!”

“Don’t call me master—I’m not a master!” Zhang Qian corrected him sternly, picking up his pace.

He knew nothing of medicine, but Ren Cong was the first friend he’d made since arriving in the Tang Dynasty. For friendship’s sake, he couldn’t refuse to even look in when his friend’s father was dying. Moreover, chubby Ren Cong’s standing in his own household was precarious. If no one helped him now, once his father passed, his fate would be worse than that of an orphan.

“Absurd!” An angry shout came from behind, full of genuine fury. “Who are you? Who is your teacher? Taking advantage of someone’s misfortune for gain is a serious crime in the Tang Dynasty!”

“Which eye of yours saw me swindling anyone?” Zhang Qian turned, equally furious, to see the imperial physician Sun’s contemptuous gaze. “As for my teacher, you wouldn’t know him even if I told you!”

“Lord Duan!” Imperial Physician Sun’s beard quivered with rage. He turned to Duan Huaijian for support.

As one of the top imperial doctors in Chang’an, his usual patients were either royalty or high officials. Ordinary folk like Ren Qiong, half farmer and half merchant, had no right to summon him. Today he’d come only for the sake of the Duan family. If the Ren household didn’t promptly expel this unknown charlatan, he would certainly leave in a huff.

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“Yingying, who just went in?” The young Lord Duan was composed and didn’t immediately erupt. He turned again to Ren Yingying.

“My brother invited him…” Ren Yingying instinctively wanted to say he was a fraud. But, suddenly worried about what such words might mean for her brother, she twisted her reply. “He’s a guest, said to have some peculiar abilities.”

“Replying to your lordship, the master’s clothing is unlike anything seen in this world!” Ren Quan gritted his teeth and interjected. “I’ve sent managers and staff to search for its origins, but can’t discover where it was made or what fabric it uses. The tailoring is also superb.”

If Manor Lord Ren Qiong died now, household affairs would fall to his second wife. For other servants it didn’t matter, but as Ren Cong’s personal guard, Ren Quan’s life would become very difficult. So, as long as there was even a sliver of hope, he’d recommend trying anything, even shamans.

“If he’s an extraordinary man, let him try, so there’s no regret left behind!” Seeing that Ren Yingying herself didn’t object, Duan Huaijian made up his mind, smiling as he instructed, “Imperial Physician Sun, please go in and supervise, lest the master does anything too unorthodox.”

“Since Lord Duan commands, I’ll go in and take a look!” Imperial Physician Sun, lacking Duan Huaijian’s support and not daring to offend him, had no choice but to comply.

Zhang Qian, eager to check on his friend’s father, had no idea his retort had sparked so much drama. Striding over the threshold, he hurried to the bedside.

A foul stench assaulted his nose, making his insides churn. In the dim light, he saw a man in his forties lying motionless on the pillow, breath barely detectable.

“Father—” The bravado Ren Cong had tried to muster quickly faded. He knelt at the bedside, sobbing.

“Why cry? Crying won’t heal him!” Zhang Qian felt both contempt and pity for the chubby youth. He shoved him aside, then leaned in to examine the patient carefully.

Cracked lips, a grayish flush on the face, dull skin, deep wrinkles on neck and earlobes—all unmistakable signs of dehydration. Ren Qiong’s condition was dire.

He touched the man’s forehead, feeling a burning heat. Lifting the corner of the quilt, he saw an arm wrapped tightly in cloth strips, swollen near the shoulder to the thickness of a thigh, dark and shiny.

“Open the curtains, let sunlight in, and poke two holes in the window paper for ventilation. Just don’t let the drafts blow directly on your father!” Internally cursing the incompetence, Zhang Qian barked orders.

Ren Cong, lost and helpless, found his anchor. He wiped away his tears, dashed to the window, and ripped down the curtain. Then, using his finger as a stick, he poked two large holes in the window paper, far from the sickbed.

“Absurd! Do you know what you’re doing?” Imperial Physician Sun’s voice sounded behind Zhang Qian again, having come in by Duan Huaijian’s order to supervise.

“Ventilation—otherwise the patient will suffocate even if he doesn’t die from illness!” Zhang Qian didn’t bother to turn, snapping back coldly. While removing one of the two silk quilts covering the patient, he continued, “Ren Cong, send someone for hot water, add two spoonfuls of salt, let it cool and then give it to your father!”

“Oxygen deficiency… What’s oxygen? Why saline?” Imperial Physician Sun frowned, protesting loudly. “His fever won’t break, so he needs ginseng decoction to strengthen, and mirabilite to drive out evil heat. But his body is so weak, if mirabilite is used…”

“If you don’t understand, just watch!” Zhang Qian had no time to explain electrolyte imbalance, glaring at him and ordering him to stay quiet.

He was not to blame for his rudeness—Imperial Physician Sun was truly a paper tiger. Zhang Qian remembered that, when he was in the orphanage, a fellow child’s fever wouldn’t subside. The useless doctor there only focused on lowering the fever and inducing sweat, neglecting the fact the patient was already dehydrated. The child almost died. Luckily, Aunt Liu, not yet the director then, noticed in time, paid for a taxi, and got him to a children’s hospital, saving him. The incompetent doctor faced no consequences for the near-fatal mistake and soon transferred to the old cadre bureau, where he became popular for teaching health tips to retirees.

Based on his 21st-century experience, Zhang Qian suspected Imperial Physician Sun had likewise coasted into his post. For such negligent doctors, Zhang Qian was already being polite not to throw him out, and wouldn’t grant him any respect.

Ren Cong, too, had lost all respect for Imperial Physician Sun. Just half an hour earlier, Sun had pronounced his father beyond hope. Now, the expert Ren Cong had invited pointed out two errors right away. Perhaps Sun was wrong, and there was still hope to pull his father back from death!

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Ren Cong rushed past the stunned imperial physician back to the main hall, arranging for hot water and salt. After much frantic organizing, Zhang Qian’s voice called from the bedroom, “Bring scissors—cut off these cloth strips. If the blood flow isn’t restored, even if your father recovers, this arm will be useless!”

“If you restore blood flow, the evil toxin will surge into heart and lungs!” Imperial Physician Sun, unable to bear it, shouted hoarsely. “You’re killing him!”

“If you don’t understand, shut up!” A sharp rebuke instantly silenced Sun, followed by another command. “Brother Ren, send someone to my room for my backpack!”

“Yes, yes!” Ren Cong replied loudly, then turned to Ren Quan, “Go to the master’s room…”

“Forget it, I’ll go myself!” Halfway through, he frowned and changed his mind. “You stay here and follow the master’s instructions.”

Clearly, despite his usual carelessness, Ren Cong sensed that Ren Quan and others had eyed Zhang Qian’s belongings. To avoid them touching anything in the backpack and angering the master, he’d better fetch it himself.

To save his father, a son wouldn’t mind any hardship. He ran all the way, soon returning with Zhang Qian’s backpack in his arms.

Just then, Ren Wu and Ren Liu brought hot water and salt. Zhang Qian instructed Ren Cong to mix saline, cool it by blowing, and quickly feed it to the feverish, unconscious Ren Qiong. Then, from his backpack, Zhang Qian took out paracetamol, cut a tablet with scissors, and placed it in Ren Qiong’s mouth. Hardening his resolve, he cut a second tablet and did the same, then took the saline from Ren Cong and carefully washed the misshapen capsule down.

Whether it could save him, Zhang Qian couldn’t promise. At least, it would ease his friend’s father’s suffering from the fever. As for the swollen arm, he could only hope the cefalexin would help.

If even 21st-century medicine failed, then truly all hope was lost. But he had done all he could, and would have no guilt later watching Ren Cong devastated by grief.

“You—you gave him a pill?” Imperial Physician Sun’s voice trembled from the corner, full of indignation and fear.

As a doctor for royals and officials, he’d seen jade bottles and silver-wrapped pills, but never such thin silver foil, nor such shiny, two-colored pills!

“If you want to call it a pill, so be it.” Zhang Qian had no time for nonsense, carefully putting the rest of the paracetamol and the cut plastic and foil back into his backpack, then took out a bottle of essential balm.

Not for treatment, but to improve the smell in the room and avoid dizziness. He opened the plastic cap, poured a few drops into his palm, rubbed them, and gently applied it to Ren Qiong’s temples.

A fresh medicinal fragrance quickly swept away the stench, and a low moan echoed through the room.

“Father!” Ren Cong’s hand trembled, dropping the bowl of saline, shattering it on the floor. Ignoring the shards, he rushed to the bed, tears streaming.

“The manor lord woke up? What an odd fragrance!” The composed Duan Huaijian suddenly stood, sniffing the air. Steward Ren Fu and Miss Ren Yingying lost their composure, rushing to the bedroom door, faces wet with tears. Imperial Physician Sun stared at the transparent bottle of essential balm, his mouth wide enough to fit a goose egg.

He’d seen glass, and transparent glass bottles, but a hollow, palm-sized bottle that could hold liquid—this was his first time. As for the green liquid inside, surely it was immortal elixir, from the same source as those two pills! Otherwise, two drops wouldn’t have cleared the stench so instantly, and Ren Qiong, already at death’s door, would not have moaned as soon as it was applied!

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