Chapter Twelve: The Rescue

Fuchang County was not large, and it wasn’t difficult to find Jikang Hall. Wei Renshi spent little effort before arriving outside its doors.

A sizable crowd had gathered at the entrance, but several young men were keeping order, preventing anyone from crowding inside. Instead, everyone lined up in an orderly fashion, entering one by one.

Wei Renshi conscientiously went to the end of the queue and waited his turn. Perhaps because he appeared so young, before long a woman came over and asked, “Young man, are you here to fetch medicine for someone, or to see the physician?”

Wei Renshi shook his head and replied, “I’m not here for a consultation. I wish to inquire about certain medicinal herbs.”

The woman told him, “Then you needn’t wait here. Go inside directly and speak to the dispensary.”

“Thank you, sister!” Wei Renshi gave her a polite bow, left the long line, and went straight into Jikang Hall.

He was greeted by a long row of medicine cabinets, each filled with an impressive array of herbs. Behind the counter, an elderly man and a middle-aged one were busy measuring and packing prescriptions for customers.

Wei Renshi had no intention of buying medicine for illness; instead, he approached the cabinets and studied the labels. Soon he found several herbs that, in his previous life, could be used as spices. He searched carefully for others, but could find no more. With that, he ordered some of each, intending to try them out later.

After patiently waiting behind a group at the counter, it was finally his turn. The old man behind the counter gathered the herbs Wei Renshi had requested, wrapped them up, and handed them over.

Wei Renshi had just received the package when a sudden commotion of hurried footsteps erupted behind him. Everyone in Jikang Hall turned to look. Several servants, looking every bit the household staff, were carrying a sedan chair, shouting as they pushed through the crowd and rushed into the hall.

Looking closely, Wei Renshi saw that the chair bore a man of immense size, so fat that the bamboo seat bowed outward, the armrests sinking deep into his flesh, as if the whole contraption might collapse at any moment.

Even in modern times, one rarely encountered someone so enormous. To see such a person in an era when most went hungry was truly shocking, and Wei Renshi could not help but be astonished.

“Physician! Physician!” As soon as they entered, the leader—who hadn’t been carrying the chair—cried out, “Come quickly, see to my master!”

He called as the servants set the chair down. All eyes turned to the obese man, who was drenched in sweat, his face flushed a deep red-brown, ears crimson, lips and nose tinged bluish-purple. He strained to sit upright but lacked the strength and slumped back, clutching his chest, gasping desperately for breath, his eyes squeezed shut in agony.

The resident physician hurried from behind his desk, immediately gripping the man’s arm. He turned and asked, “What symptoms has Master Jiao shown?”

“Dizziness!” the man who had called for the physician—likely the steward—quickly pointed at his own head and said, “My master is dizzy, can’t walk, can barely breathe!”

The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention. The physician frowned deeply, using both hands to feel the patient’s pulse. After a moment, he exclaimed, “The pulse is sunken, thin, taut, and hard; together with vertigo and shortness of breath, this is an acute attack!”

“Then why aren’t you treating him?” the steward cried. “Money is no object! As long as you cure my master, whatever you charge, we’ll pay!”

The physician hesitated. “This is an imbalance of yin and yang, not easily remedied. Typically, it should be treated early and nursed slowly. If it’s due to excessive liver fire, then one must clear the liver and purge fire. If it’s liver yang rising, then calm the liver and subdue yang. For more severe cases, heavy-settling medicines are needed. If it’s a mix of liver and kidney yin deficiency with liver yang rising, then nourishing both liver and kidney is required. If both yin and yang are deficient, then both must be supplemented…”

Seeing the physician spouting theory, the steward grew desperate and interrupted, “But my master can’t wait for slow treatment! He always says you are the best doctor in Fuchang! Surely you have a way!”

The physician stroked his beard, shaking his head with a sigh. “My skills are limited. I am ashamed…”

“Is there really nothing you can do?” the steward persisted.

“My skills are limited. Perhaps another great physician may know a way…” the physician still shook his head.

Growing frantic, the steward grabbed the physician’s robe. “But my master cannot possibly go outside to seek another doctor now! Can’t you at least relieve his symptoms?”

“I truly am not adept at emergencies. I can write a prescription, and let Master Jiao take it quickly,” the physician replied, hurrying to sit and write out a formula.

“Thank you!” The steward quickly followed.

“Dizzy… dizzy… Steward…” the massive man weakly called, rolling his eyes and nearly tipping over.

The steward rushed back, “Master! Master!”

Seeing him begin to collapse, Wei Renshi instinctively took a step forward to help, but suddenly remembered the reason for his own transmigration and hesitated. Yet in the next instant, he dashed ahead, yanking the steward aside and saying, “Light the lamp, and fetch me a knife!”

The steward, startled by Wei Renshi’s abrupt intervention, heard the urgent command and immediately rushed off. The other attendants, realizing the emergency, quickly found a small knife used for cutting herbs and handed it to Wei Renshi.

Turning, Wei Renshi saw the steward running over, clutching an oil lamp in one hand and a fire striker in the other.

Lighting the lamp with the striker, Wei Renshi held the knife over the flame to sterilize it, then grabbed the obese man’s hand, flipped it over, and plunged the blade into his palm.

A gush of blood spurted out at once. Wei Renshi dodged quickly, but the blood sprayed across the steward’s face.

“What are you doing?!” the steward cried out in horror, leaping to seize the knife.

But Wei Renshi was faster, stabbing the man’s other palm before the steward could stop him.

A crimson line of blood arced from the fresh wound, spraying a full two paces away.

The steward lunged, wrenching Wei Renshi’s arm and knocking the knife from his hand as several servants joined in to restrain him.

“Let go! I’m saving your master!” Wei Renshi, still a youth, lacked the strength to break free and cried out loudly.

Hearing this, everyone looked back at the obese man. The blood streaming from his palms no longer spurted but flowed steadily; the dark flush in his face faded rapidly, his ears regained their normal color, and even the bluish tinge of his lips grew noticeably paler.

(Note: Regarding the titles for physicians—in times before the Song dynasty, doctors were called by their specialties, such as food physician, disease physician, wound physician, and so forth. From the Song onward, it became customary to call them 'Langzhong' in the south and 'Dafu' in the north. Although 'doctor' existed as a term in the Tang dynasty, it meant a medical scholar, not a practitioner. For simplicity in this novel, I have used 'Langzhong' and 'Dafu' throughout. This brief note serves as explanation.)