“You didn’t charge him for the medicine last time, and the shopkeeper said you definitely can’t postpone it this time. The shopkeeper also told you to stay in the city and not go to that sick village.”
The old doctor frowned as if he didn't agree, but still put away the plate: "Please thank your manager for his kindness on my behalf."
Nie Qingyue understood a bit as she listened. She had the misfortune of running into the doctor that the other diners at the table had been talking about that morning, the one who insisted on going to the village. She smiled and asked, "What could Doctor Li be thinking about so intently that he couldn't even see a grown man?"
Doctor Li slowly stroked his neatly trimmed beard. "Don't laugh, young lady, but today I was driven back by the soldiers guarding the city when I went out. I tried to fool them again, but to no avail. I've been quite disappointed and troubled on this journey."
"Can't we leave the city now?" She remembered that when she looked at the wanted list, some people had left the city, but they were checked.
The old doctor shook his head in frustration: "You know about the plague in that village, right? Many doctors have gone to that village but haven't come back. The government is worried that the decrease in doctors in the city will affect the lives of the people, so they have banned doctors from leaving the city."
“Since some doctors have already been sent, it’s understandable that the government is doing this,” Nie Qingyue reassured him. “Doctor Li, please don’t worry.”
"How could I not know? It's just that I'm already so old, and staying in the city won't necessarily help me cure many people. It's better to go to the village and see if I can help in any way. It wouldn't be a pity to die at this age." The old man spoke of his life and death with a calm expression, and Nie Qingyue even felt a faint sense of pity and tenderness.
He truly embodies the typical elderly person who has dedicated their entire life to healthcare. He doesn't have many other considerations; it's as if helping the sick and needy is his innate duty, and he considers treating illness as an integral part of his life and livelihood.
Naturally, Nie Qingyue thought of Yan Shu. Both were doctors, but the two gave Nie Qingyue completely different feelings.
Every time Nie Qingyue saw Yan Shu seeing patients in the courtyard, she had a vague, unspoken feeling that Yan Shu might not actually enjoy practicing medicine.
Every time she thought about it this way, she felt it was a bit absurd. How could a world-renowned physician not like this sacred profession? But Yan Shu's consistently indifferent attitude during consultations and his casual indifference when dispensing medicine puzzled Nie Qingyue. Just like she had joked before, she felt that Yan Shu had an occupational hazard; once he started, he neither enthusiastically nor disliked it, continuing as if it were a habit. He would instinctively lend a helping hand when he saw someone injured, but she couldn't find even a trace of the compassionate, enthusiastic, and conscientious attitude of Doctor Li in him.
Nie Qingyue chatted with the old doctor for a while longer, then insisted on paying for the tea before leaving.
On the first day, Nie Qingyue ate the meal she had cooked with great contentment.
The next day, Nie Qingyue idly flipped through the medical books in Yan Shu's room.
On the third day, Nie Qingyue packed some clothes and went out decisively.
After Yan Shu went out to see patients that morning, which was unprecedented for him, he did not return for three days.
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Yingmo has no 119
In the red-light districts and alleyways, in teahouses and theaters, I look around in a vast expanse, but you are nowhere to be seen.
Nie Qingyue stood in the line waiting to leave the city for inspection, moving slowly forward. It might have been too hasty to send Yan Shu to that village after only three days, but she wasn't uninterested in the strange illness people were talking about.
Just as I was concentrating, I heard voices coming from ahead.
Nie Qingyue then noticed that the woman in front of her in line was a woman in her thirties who still had a charming appearance, and a servant-like person was pushing a large cart containing two wine jars that were half a person tall.
"This is aged wine that's being rushed to Mojing." The woman's voice was soft but not seductive, and her smile was amiable.
The soldier was lifting the lid of the first vat to inspect it. As soon as the red paper was peeled off, a rich aroma of wine immediately filled the air. "It's good wine," the soldier murmured, reaching out to inspect the second vat.
"Young man," the woman said with a smile, stopping the soldier's hand, "this jar is a gift for Master Chen to celebrate taking a concubine. It's waiting to be opened for him. If the taste is affected, I'll be in trouble. You see, I, Murong Luo, have been running teahouses and inns for quite some time now, and I still have a good reputation. Would you do me a favor?" As she spoke, she took a small pot of wine from beside the cart and handed it over. A few pieces of silver were gleaming on the lid of the pot.
The soldier was probably not doing this for the first time, and he readily let the woman named Murong Luo pass. Then it was Nie Qingyue's turn.
Nie Qingyue was dressed in men's clothing today, with her hair casually tied up. In addition, her appearance was clean and delicate, not as outstanding as that of a beautiful woman. The soldiers guarding the city just thought she was some sick scholar. Seeing that her height did not match, they did not ask her to take off her clothes to check if she had any wounds.
Easily leaving the city, Nie Qingyue grabbed a random passerby and asked for directions to the village. Having memorized the general route, she had just taken a step when she saw a somewhat familiar figure. Silver hair and a long beard, carrying a large medicine chest, he was standing beside the two large wine vats, bowing respectfully—it was the old doctor!
"How did you sneak out?" Nie Qingyue asked excitedly as she approached.
"And who is this young master?" The old doctor sized up Nie Qingyue for a long time, still trying to recall when he had met a scholar-like person.
“Old doctor, it’s not the young master, it’s the girl who came to my teahouse with you the other day.” The woman named Murong Luo stood beside Nie Qingyue with a smile: “Right?”
Nie Qingyue was taken aback. How could she have been seen through so easily with just one sentence? "Yes. I am the girl who bumped into you a few days ago."
The old doctor stared intently at Nie Qingyue's face for a moment, then slapped his forehead: "Girl, why are you dressed like this?"
"Uh, I'd like to go to that village to look for someone; that might be more convenient." Nie Qingyue glanced at the empty wine vat at the back of the line. "Doctor, what you just did...?"
The old doctor smiled a little embarrassedly: "It's all thanks to Manager Murong's help."
Murong Luo smiled helplessly: "If you hadn't gone to such lengths to save people, I would never have let you go." She turned to look at Nie Qingyue: "If you're going to help someone, I'll go with you to the village entrance."
With a guide and an experienced doctor by my side, how could I refuse? Nie Qingyue immediately smiled and said, "Then I'll have to trouble you."
The journey is farther than I imagined.
Murong Luo sent her servants back to the city, hired a carriage for herself, and became the driver. Her movements were swift and skillful, without any of the coyness or hesitation typical of women. For a woman past her prime to be able to openly run a teahouse and inn in Wuhuang City, she must be worldly-wise and possess extraordinary abilities. One can only imagine the many twists and turns in her life story.
Nie Qingyue sighed and then mocked herself for being a business student who had come to an ancient world where the capitalist economy was not yet developed. Instead of being able to let go and try anything, she became obedient and married someone.
After a day and a night of bumpy travel, we finally arrived at a crossroads in the countryside as darkness was about to fall. One road connected Wuhuang and Mojing, while the other connected the border town's villages with the deserted wilderness. The two roads intersected and ran through the four cardinal directions.
Beside the intersection was a wide open space, where a several-story inn stood quietly. Two wooden plaques hung outside the inn's door: "Welcome guests from all directions to share a century-old wine; make friends from all corners of the world to forge eternal bonds." The central plaque read: "Four Directions Inn."
The simple antithesis is as if carved with a sword on wood, each stroke sharp and vigorous yet solid and grand, complementing the inn's name and location, exuding a sense of carefree heroism.
As soon as the carriage stopped at the door, a waiter immediately came out to greet it.
Upon seeing Murong Luo driving the carriage, the waiter exclaimed with delight, "Manager, you're finally back!"
"Why do you make it sound like I'm never coming back?" Murong Luo joked, jumping down from the carriage in two steps. "Hold the horses steady and take the two guests to their rooms."
"Yes!" Xiao He, having received the order, led the horse and eagerly guided them: "This way, sirs."
However, before Nie Qingyue and the old doctor could even step into the inn, a disheveled, dusty young man stumbled in, crying out, "Help! Help!" The young man seemed to have fallen into the ocean, filled with despair and helplessness. His trembling hands gripped the collar of the nearest person and held on tightly, shouting, "They're going to burn down the village! They're going to burn down the village!"
The inn was thrown into chaos at the boy's shout. People scrambled back in fear of catching the disease, while the guest being held tightly by the boy tried to escape in terror. Most of the people in the inn were merchants traveling between Wuhuang and Mojing or small business owners, and they all knew about the strange disease that had struck a village outside the city.
"I'm not sick! Please save the village!" The boy watched the people scatter, then absentmindedly loosened his grip on the collar and knelt on the ground in anguish. "I'm really not sick! Please, they're about to burn the village down! Please..." His pale fingers pressed hard on the floor, unable to grasp anything. His tearful cries gradually faded into a barely audible murmur due to the terrified stares of those around him.
"Xiao An, what's wrong?" Murong Luo frowned and pulled him up to ask after seeing the boy's appearance clearly.
The boy seemed to have grasped the only piece of driftwood in the sea, a glimmer of light appearing in his dark eyes. He said haltingly, "Soldiers, seal, seal the village." "Calm down!" Murong Luo's face turned stern, and he pressed the boy down into a chair by the table.
The boy took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but his voice was still trembling with panic: "I... I went back to see them, but the foot of the mountain was surrounded by soldiers blocking the road. I told them that once I went in, I wouldn't come out, but they still wouldn't let me." His voice grew increasingly somber: "A soldier who used to frequent the teahouse quietly told me that they had received orders to start burning the village tonight, and that I shouldn't go in to die in vain."
The murmurs around them suddenly fell silent.
Murong Luo pondered for a moment, then patted Xiao An's shoulder reassuringly: "Don't worry, I'll go check on him. You rest here for a while." Then, looking at the surrounding guests, she said loudly: "Esteemed guests, this is a worker I hired at the teahouse I run in Wuhuang City. He has been working and staying at my teahouse since he contracted the disease in the village until the travel ban was imposed. He only decided to quit and return to the village two days ago. I believe you all heard what he said just now. If you have any questions, you can ask the guests from Wuhuang City. Please rest assured, Xiao An has not contracted the disease and has no opportunity to do so."
After a while, a guest who knew Murong Luo stood up to offer advice. The guests sat down again with some doubt, and for a moment the atmosphere in the inn was heavy and silent.
Murong Luo sighed, then turned and hurried upstairs.
Nie Qingyue stood quietly outside the inn's main entrance, watching intently. Turning her head, she noticed the old doctor's pale face and opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. A lightly dressed man with his hair tied back descended from the wooden building. His brows were filled with determination and composure, and a short scar marked the corner of his eye.
The man walked up to Nie Qingyue and the old doctor and cupped his hands in greeting: "If you two don't mind, may we set off immediately?" His voice was Murong Luo's soft and soothing.
The old doctor and Nie Qingyue nodded in understanding, then wearily climbed into the carriage they had just come from. After all, it was a matter of life and death, and no matter how tired they were, they had to hurry. Along with the young boy Xiao An, who ran out to ask to go with them, the four of them continued their journey through the thick darkness of the night.
Unsurprisingly, they encountered obstruction from government troops at the foot of the mountain.
Nie Qingyue jumped off the carriage and took out the token from the Prime Minister's residence: "We are people sent by Prime Minister Nie, and we have brought a doctor with superb medical skills to check the situation. The burning of the village tonight will be postponed."
The soldiers guarding the road hesitated for a few seconds. "I'll go back and report to the lord. Please wait here."
The local official in charge came out, still looking somewhat incredulous: "I did not receive any order for delay." Nie Qingyue nodded: "Sir, may I speak with you in private?" The county magistrate, still doubtful, walked aside with Nie Qingyue.
"To ensure a thorough cleanup, did Your Excellency arrange for soldiers to enter the village and set it on fire?" Nie Qingyue stared directly into the magistrate's eyes. The magistrate initially hesitated, but seeing Nie Qingyue's straightforward and direct manner, he finally nodded after a long pause.
"Will those soldiers be able to get out alive after they burn the village down?" Nie Qingyue asked, looking at him again. The magistrate's expression flickered. This was the order he received this morning: send some soldiers in to burn the village tonight, and then have the rest block the exits and wait for reinforcements. He could only feign anger and ask, "What do you mean by this?"
Nie Qingyue suddenly sneered: "What I mean is, to prevent the soldiers who burned the village from spreading the strange disease, they have to sacrifice themselves." Then he paused slowly, "But the other soldiers who have been guarding the village exit for a month, and you, sir, can remain safe and sound, without having to avoid the danger of being wiped out. If you, sir, were in a higher position, would you have such an absurd idea as I do?"
The magistrate didn't answer Nie Qingyue's question for a long time, and before he knew it, he broke out in a cold sweat as possible imagined the possible scenarios.
"Whether the lives of the people in the village are spared or not is entirely up to you, sir." Nie Qingyue could tell from his expression that he believed him to some extent, and his expression became even more indifferent: "My master cares about the people, which is why he sent me with a renowned doctor to come overnight. If you agree with this idea, sir, I can't say anything."
Just when Nie Qingyue thought success was within reach, the county magistrate replied to her with a deathly pale face: "...It's too late."
"What do you mean?!" Nie Qingyue was a little confused.
"To reach the village, we have to cross a mountain. Because tonight's order to burn the village requires prohibiting unauthorized personnel from entering, some of the soldiers have been deployed to guard the foot of the mountain. The two squads of soldiers at the village entrance... have probably already begun."
Q: Who can turn the tide and save the day?
Nie Qingyue didn't think she could save a collapsing building like a protagonist in a shonen manga, so the moment she heard "it's too late," her mind was filled with images of towering flames and shrill cries, and she even nervously smelled the peculiar odor of burning organic matter.
However, life always manages to develop in its own unique and bizarre ways, in ways that are beyond the scope of people's imagination, whether it is bad or good beyond imagination.
It's like someone who, when turning into a dead end, finds a wall before they reach a tiger behind them and then finds a pistol without bullets, or like a fat, healthy pig falling from the sky—even if it's a bit absurd and melodramatic.
Now, Nie Qingyue felt she had found a pig, because not long after the conversation ended, a fierce and torrential downpour came merrily. When the rain stopped, she carried a torch that was barely extinguished over a mountain, and when she finally arrived at the village, barely alive, only a few scattered embers were burning weakly, and even the smell of burning had been washed away by the rain.
In Yingmo, where dialectical materialism is absent, people worship and revere the gods who control the four seasons. They believe that a sudden downpour in winter must be a sign of divine protection, indicating that the village's fate is not yet sealed. So even the soldiers tending the fire stand there, blankly carrying buckets of water to pour into the small fire, muttering, "Heaven's will is hard to defy, Heaven's will is hard to defy."
Nie Qingyue was both amused and exasperated. After a day and night of bumpy carriage travel, she hadn't even had a sip of tea before rushing to climb the mountain. Faced with this smooth ending, she felt powerless, as if she had been tricked. Before she fainted, she saw Murong Luo's anxious face and remembered calmly saying, "I fainted from exhaustion."
When I woke up, it was already dark.
A dim kerosene lamp burned quietly on the small wooden table.
Nie Qingyue sat up somewhat bewildered and looked around. The wooden house was simple and somewhat crude, with a light gray cloth bag hanging from both ends of the beam. There was a slightly bitter and dry medicinal smell in the air.
Voices could be heard coming from outside the thin, dimly lit door. The volume was not loud, but it was very clear.
"The formula for relieving exterior symptoms, clearing heat, detoxifying, and reducing swelling seems to be no longer applicable."
"Most of the patients I saw today had severe chest pain, cough, expectoration of large amounts of bright red sputum, and shortness of breath. If the treatment plan is not changed soon, they may die of exhaustion within a few days."
"Old ailments haven't healed, and new ones have arisen. Does anyone have any solutions?"
"For now, we can only prescribe some medicine to cool the blood, stop bleeding, and resolve phlegm and nodules to see how things go. However, the number of new cases is increasing rapidly, and I'm afraid..."
"If the doctor has done his best, then how should a patient with both old and new symptoms be treated?"
"Using both medicines together might cause a conflict of effects. Let's consult medical classics again before discussing countermeasures."
"Thank you for your help, doctors."
Then came a low murmur of discussion and the soft rustling of pages. Nie Qingyue was completely bewildered. The symptoms seemed somewhat like those of common pneumonia, but what was going on with the rapidly increasing number of cases? She knew that most types of pneumonia were not contagious.
Just as she was pondering this, the door was gently pushed open. The person holding the bowl of dark medicine smiled calmly upon seeing that she was awake, saying, "Madam, come and drink your medicine." His expression remained gentle and serene.
It was the person I hadn't seen for days. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well.
Nie Qingyue looked at it carefully for a few moments, then lowered her head and slowly drank the medicine. The thick, bitter taste made her stomach churn. She was about to ask a few questions when she thought about the simple house. Under such conditions, it was already very good that she could drink the medicine. Why should she complain about the taste or appearance?