When Qi Yue arrived at Qianjin Hall, Liu Pucheng wasn’t there, and neither was Hu San.
“Master has gone to meet friends,” Zhang Tong said.
Qi Yue made an acknowledging sound.
“Hu San went too?” she asked.
“Hu San is at the leather craftsman’s shop in the south of the city. The things you asked for are almost finished,” Zhang Tong smiled.
“That’s quite fast,” Qi Yue said with pleasant surprise, while taking out the questions she had from reading to ask, “I’ll just ask you then.”
Zhang Tong respectfully and carefully explained everything to her one by one. As they were talking, a disciple came running in shouting loudly from outside.
“Senior Brother, severe trauma case.”
Liu Pucheng had trained his disciples well, with everyone having their own duties. The senior brothers in the front hall could handle ordinary ailments, but for serious cases, Liu Pucheng’s personal attention was still needed. This was also what the patients’ families required – generally, those who came here were drawn by Liu Pucheng’s reputation.
With Liu Pucheng absent, the eldest disciple Zhang Tong was in charge.
Qi Yue followed Zhang Tong out. The waiting area in the front hall was already in chaos.
Several men and women surrounded a man in his forties lying on a door plank, crying and talking. The man had bled all over the door plank, and his thick winter trousers had a large tear exposing bloody flesh.
“Gored by a wild boar…”
Seeing Zhang Tong approach, the others quickly made way.
“Physician Liu…” a man rushed over, grabbing Zhang Tong and about to kowtow, “Please save my elder brother.”
Zhang Tong supported him while answering.
“Don’t panic, let me take a look. My master isn’t here,” he replied.
These people were startled to hear this, and hearing the surrounding people address the newcomer as “Senior Brother,” they realized they had mistaken him for someone else.
“You… you’re not Physician Liu?” they asked.
“My master has gone out,” Zhang Tong replied.
A helper brought over basins of salt water and rice wine that had been prepared early. Zhang Tong washed his hands in them in sequence before examining the injured man’s wounds.
The concept of disinfection had been accepted by Qianjin Hall. Qi Yue, who had been watching, nodded approvingly. But it still wasn’t enough. She frowned – if only there were gloves, it would be better.
Could gloves be made somehow…
While she was lost in thought, the crying and wailing here grew louder.
Such a large, deep wound…
“Qi Yueniang… this needs suturing…” Zhang Tong looked up at Qi Yue and said.
Before Qi Yue could respond, the injured man’s family members all looked over with astonished expressions.
They had come seeking Liu Pucheng’s reputation. Liu Pucheng’s absence already made them uneasy, and now seeing this self-proclaimed disciple examine the wound for a long time without treating it, instead turning to ask a woman…
“I’ll do it. You all watch carefully,” Qi Yue said. Suturing wounds wasn’t something one could just learn immediately – it required practice. As Qianjin Hall specialized in treating injuries and trauma, she should really teach them.
As she spoke, she instructed them to prepare more salt water and rice wine.
“I’ll clean the wound first. A’Ru, quickly go back and get my things,” she said.
A’Ru responded and ran out.
“Just the thread…” she thought of something and added, “I used up all of it last time…”
“My master has some here,” Zhang Tong said quickly.
Qi Yue also remembered seeing the thread Liu Pucheng had brought last time. Though she didn’t know what it was made of, it was certainly for suturing.
“Boil it in salt water,” she said.
Zhang Tong immediately went to do it himself.
Here, Qi Yue rolled up her sleeves, washed her hands, but before she could approach the injured man, she was blocked.
“You, what are you, a woman, trying to do?” Two men looked at her warily and shouted.
“I’m going to treat his wound,” Qi Yue said.
Her disinfected hands, held habitually in front of her body, drew even more puzzled stares from these people.
“Where is there a woman who’s a physician…”
“Only midwives, right…”
“Look how strange this woman is…”
The family members whispered among themselves, while looking at Qi Yue with increasingly wary eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m also a physician,” Qi Yue quickly explained, only then realizing they distrusted her unfamiliar face.
This was understandable – even in modern hospitals, many patients came specifically asking for particular doctors.
“If you don’t believe me, ask them,” Qi Yue pointed to everyone present.
The helpers and disciples of Qianjin Hall immediately nodded in a confused chorus.
“Yes, this is Qi Yueniang…”