After the man passed, he straightened up and looked again at the crumpled letter in his hand.
Consider yourself lucky this time that you weren’t beaten to death. But he didn’t believe you could be so fortunate every time.
Wang Qingchun looked up at the southern horizon, clenched the letter once more, and walked away.
Days passed in a flash, and spring had already covered Yongqing Prefecture.
“Stop medication, cheerful mood, safe and sound.”
After writing this sentence, the small paper slip was rolled up and placed in a bamboo tube. The back window was opened, and a pigeon soared into the sky.
“Qingzi!”
A shout came from outside the door.
The laborer quickly closed the window and ran out in response.
“The medicine drying over there should be collected now!” a disciple in a light blue outer garment shouted to him.
The laborer called Qingzi responded yes, grabbed the black outer garment draped over his arm that identified him as a pharmacy laborer, and hurried off.
In the room with the “Outpatient Clinic” sign, Qi Yue was examining a patient who had come for a follow-up.
“The recovery is quite good,” she said with a smile, straightening up.
“It’s because of your superb medical skills, Lady,” the man said gratefully.
Qi Yue put the stethoscope into the strap on her clothes, took a piece of paper from the table, wrote a line, and handed it to the patient.
“Go on, go to the nursing station for dressing change,” she said.
Nursing station?
Though the man was puzzled, he obediently followed along. Since the doctors at this medical hall could split bones and cut into bodies, naturally their practices would be different from other establishments.
The expanded and bright hall had the most crowded counter prominently displaying the three characters “Nursing Station.”
“A’Ru,” Qi Yue called out.
A’Ru, wearing a white outer garment with her hair wrapped in a headscarf, was bandaging a child who had broken his arm from a fall. Hearing the call, she immediately responded yes, but didn’t stop her work until she finished what she was doing.
“Do a dressing change for this one,” Qi Yue said.
A’Ru responded yes and looked at the man with a smile.
“Give me the slip,” she extended her hand.
The doctor had already come personally and explained – what slip was still needed?
The man paused, then handed over the slip in his hand.
A’Ru looked down at it briefly, then smiled and led the way.
“This way,” she said.
Qi Yue stood in the hall, seeing someone outside peeking in, seeming to want to enter but afraid of going to the wrong place.
“Hello, may I help you with something?”
The Qianjin Hall staff member responsible for guidance immediately stepped forward to ask.
Hello? Really…
“For medical consultation, please go to the left to the outpatient clinic,” the staff member pointed the way. “For filling prescriptions, please go this way to the pharmacy.”
The person nodded and timidly stepped inside.
“I, I, hurt my foot, and that notice said something about disinfection and anti-inflammation. Nothing else is wrong, I just came to ask…” he stuttered, pointing to his foot.
In the past, when injured, people would just grab some dirt and ash to sprinkle on it without caring. But a few days ago, the literate village chief had taken a piece of paper and read it under the big tree, talking about daily treatment methods for various external injuries – something about washing surface abrasions with light salt water, using clean cloth to press on torn wounds, and especially not to sprinkle ash and dirt.
Otherwise it would become infected and fester. Don’t underestimate small wounds – they could very well cost you your life, the village chief had said gravely at the end.
He had been frightened. But they had always handled it this way for small scrapes. It wasn’t some serious illness that would leave you bedridden – going to a medical hall might be too dramatic, right? But when the moment came, thinking of the village chief’s words about rotten legs and amputations, he hesitated for a long time with dirt in his hand but couldn’t bring himself to sprinkle it. So he gritted his teeth and came here anxiously.
If the villagers knew he had delayed half a day’s work to run to the city just for a broken scrape on his foot, they would surely laugh him to death.
“This, ah,” the staff member said, then called out, “Someone here has an external wound that needs treatment.”
The nursing station heard and someone came over.
“Please follow me,” the disciple in white robes said kindly.
Everyone here is so polite – could it be that their medical skills aren’t good, so they lack confidence…
The villager thought to himself, also feeling somewhat timid.
“Um, how much does it cost?” he asked.
The staff member pointed to a large screen hanging on the wall, which didn’t have landscape paintings or calligraphy, but neat small grids with services and prices written on them.
“For what you need – simple external wound cleaning and disinfection – no consultation required, no charge,” he said after looking carefully.
No charge? The villager immediately perked up.
“Good, good,” he followed the disciple happily.
Seeing this, Qi Yue’s smile grew even broader. She looked around the hall once more, then turned and walked back to her consultation room. When it wasn’t serious trauma cases, she was quite relaxed. Sitting down, she picked up a traditional Chinese medicine book to read seriously, spreading out her notes and jotting down anything she didn’t understand to ask Liu Pucheng about after he finished work.