The dark room, the gloomy courtyard.
In the past, Wen Zhiyun would always timidly pull at his elder and younger brothers' sleeves, not daring to step forward.
But now, he just glanced in the direction of Fengjing, then strode in unhesitatingly.
The Danyang Prefect really did seem to be gravely ill, lying emaciated on the couch without a hint of life.
Even when Wen Zhiyun sat at his bedside, he had no reaction, allowing his arm to be pulled out and his pulse felt.
"How is it, how is it?" Jiang San asked impatiently.
Wen Zhiyun shook his head, then pried open the Danyang Prefect's eyelids, lightly touched his wrist, then stroked back to his pulse, "The floating and slow pulse indicates an external cold evil obstructing the protective qi, preventing the yang qi from being released and causing stagnation. This leads the trapped yang qi to gradually transform into heat. The tight pulse caused by the cold evil drawing in then gradually becomes floating and slow instead of tight. This is indeed the pulse condition of cold damage."
But the appearances of the Danyang Prefect and gatekeeper were quite different from normal cold damage, making it very difficult.
A doctor's path is arduous, with guidance from many teachers.
Wen Zhiyun's medical skills instead came from volume after volume of ancient texts, chapter after chapter of history. Even after joining the Imperial Medical Office, he still learned from the past.
Unable to find a definite conclusion for the time being, he resolutely walked into the prefect's study, immersed in ancient texts, lost in the sea of medicine.
After some unknown amount of time, he found the answer in the Treatise on Cold Damage from a thousand years ago.
"Now heat disease all belongs to the category of cold damage."
"There are five types of cold damage, including zhongfeng, cold damage, damp-warmth, heat disease, and warm disease."
"Although it's impossible to confirm whether the Prefect has damp-warmth or warm disease, as long as we patiently try, try over and over, we will eventually find the answer."
And so Jiang San saw the gentle and refined Wen Zhiyun pacing on the spot, slapping his thighs, then rushing to the gatekeeper and sincerely saying, "The Prefect's health is weak and can't withstand too much disturbance. I need a relatively healthy patient to test the medicine on. Are you willing?"
The gatekeeper stammered, unable to get any words out.
That was only natural. The man was just here to work, not to sell his life.
Unwillingness was the normal human state.
Just as the light in Wen Zhiyun's eyes dimmed, a firm and clear female voice rang out from the back courtyard, "I'm willing."
She was dressed in luxury with a touch of elegance, a single blue garment lighting up the gloomy manor. Her dignified yet resilient countenance resembled the Danyang Prefect's by fifty percent - she must be his esteemed daughter.
"I got sick later than Father, so my health is just right now. I'm the best candidate to test the medicine on," the young lady said gracefully. "Please, Dr. Wen, don't hesitate. Feel free to administer the medicine."
The sooner they could diagnose and treat it, the sooner they could recover.
Wen Zhiyun gazed at her steadily for a long moment before nodding.
Cold damage itself wasn't as contagious as plague, cholera, and tuberculosis, similar to malaria in that it could be prevented by maintaining cleanliness, avoiding raw water, and so on.
But commoners were reluctant to wash their hands and drank raw water directly, then shut themselves behind closed doors when they fell ill, adding fuel to the fire of cold damage.
The Danyang Prefect's response had been relatively swift, ordering the prefectural manor closed off and preventing contact between the sick and commoners, yet he still couldn't block the rampant spread that left prosperous Danyang Prefecture desolate.
"From today onward, no one else in the prefectural manor is to drink raw water. Cover your nose and mouth when you meet. Keep the doors and windows open for ventilation. Wash your hands before and after meals," Wen Zhiyun emphasized.
What followed next was administering medicine, again and again, time and again, bowl after bowl.
The addition or removal of different medicinal ingredients, as well as the increased or decreased amounts, would all affect the efficacy.
The Prefect's daughter was in charge of drinking it while Wen Zhiyun monitored her pulse, adjusting the ingredients based on her pulse reactions until he finalized a detox formula centered on rhizoma coptidis.
"There's another formula that tastes better too. Why choose this one with rhizoma coptidis?" Jiang San asked, puzzled.
Wen Zhiyun didn't reply, watching as the Prefect's daughter fed the medicine into the Danyang Prefect's mouth before reaching to check his pulse once more.
The formerly soft and feeble pulse gradually strengthened dose by dose.
After being unconscious for days, the Danyang Prefect opened his eyes. In a hoarse voice, he responded, "Because...rhizoma coptidis is inexpensive for even the commoners to afford."
A good doctor puts the people first.
Efficacy was important, but affordability for the common people was more important.
Just like with this cold damage, the doctors at the Imperial Medical Office could have resolved it too, but it would have taken them over ten days to arrive. Wen Zhiyun, who was closer, had rushed over unhesitatingly instead.
"The Prefect has finally woken up." He smiled. "I've copied down this prescription. Quickly distribute it to the pharmacies in the city and have them make medicine for the commoners."
Just those few earlier days could save countless lives.
The aged Danyang Prefect gazed steadily at the young doctor. His dim eyes moved slightly, as if seeing the distorted, quivering essence around them.
It was something they both possessed, a common love for this world.
One shut the prefectural manor, controlling the epidemic.
The other braved the prefectural manor, working diligently on a cure.
"Good, good, good!" He shouted loudly three times. "The Dayu Dynasty is fortunate to have a doctor like Wen. This official will truthfully report to the imperial court and erect a monument to your achievements, so that all the people of Jiangnan can thank you."
His gaze even fell upon his daughter. "Once the cold damage is eradicated from the city, as long as you are willing, I could even..."
"There's no time, my lord." Wen Zhiyun stood up and shook his head tactfully. "The doctors from the Imperial Medical Office should arrive soon, and people from Fengjing will come to handle things too. I shouldn't stay long."
He bowed slightly, then turned to leave.
The Danyang Prefect stared wide-eyed, confused and puzzled. "Dr. Wen, wait. Where are you going?"
"Where else but Fengjing?" Wen Zhiyun pursed his lips. "My family is there waiting for me. I haven't even had the chance to express congratulations to my younger brother yet."
"I'll leave affairs in Danyang to you, my lord. Whether this cold damage was a coincidence or a plot, I'm sure you'll get to the bottom of it during your investigation."
He was a doctor, and would always do what he should.
He loved Dayu, and loved the people living under the Dayu Dynasty even more.
The neatly written prescription lay on the table, shifting slightly in the breeze.
The youth shouldered his medicine box and boarded the carriage for his journey, moving farther and farther away.
Yet also closer and closer.
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