Chapter 21: Consultation at the Pharmacy, a Funny and Funny Event
The morning mist had not yet completely dissipated, casting a veil over the villages in the valley.
Shen Ye limped along the dirt path leading to the village. He had changed into the most inconspicuous coarse cloth he had found at the bottom of a trunk, and had deliberately smeared his face with mud to make himself look more like a down-and-out traveler. He had hidden his ever-present dagger, Setsuna, inside his clothes, close to his chest.
With every step he took, the wounds on his right leg and back shoulder felt like they were being repeatedly pulled by a blunt knife, sending waves of sharp pain through him. But he paid no attention, his entire focus on Su Qinghan, whose life or death was uncertain in the hut behind him.
His mind, like a ball of wool tangled by a cat, repeatedly rehearsed the upcoming conversation.
"Buy medicine." He thought this was the simplest opening line.
"What medicine do you want to buy?" the other party will definitely ask.
"To reduce fever."
"Why do you have a fever?"
…
The conversation had reached this point, and they were stuck in a vicious circle. His brain, which could calculate dozens of murder plans in an instant, was now completely locked up by this simple question.
He couldn't tell the truth. A young woman with a sword wound, an inflamed wound, and a high fever—this in itself was a huge suspicion. In this land where Prince Ning's power was deeply entrenched, any abnormality could lead to a fatal disaster.
He had to lie. But lies require details to support them, and his life was precisely made up of countless erased details and hidden truths. He lived in the shadows, and every common sense under the sun was unfamiliar territory to him.
A cold? Internal heat? He couldn't even tell the difference. In his past world, people were in only two states: alive, and dying. As for the process, he never cared.
When the medicine shop with the plaque "Huichuntang" appeared in his sight, Shen Ye's footsteps showed a slight hesitation.
He had killed countless people throughout his life, never once feeling fear. But now, facing this small shop filled with the fragrant aroma of herbs, he felt an unprecedented pressure. This was another world, a world of normal people, with its own rules and logic. And he was a complete intruder.
He took a deep breath, suppressed his anxiety and uneasiness, pushed the door open and walked in.
The shop wasn't large, but it was neat and tidy. The air was filled with a rich, complex aroma of herbs, a blend of sweet licorice, mellow angelica, and bitter coptis root, creating a comforting aroma. Along the wall stood rows of dark brown medicine cabinets, countless labels bearing the names of medicinal herbs. Behind the counter, a kindly-looking shopkeeper, his hair and beard half-white, was weighing out medicine on a scale, humming a tuneless tune.
Hearing the door open, the boss looked up and when he saw Chen Ye, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.
The man before him stood tall and straight, but his face was frighteningly pale, his lips devoid of color. His coarse, washed-out clothes couldn't conceal the cold, hard aura that emanated from him, a coldness that stood out from his surroundings. His eyes, in particular, were like a bottomless well, devoid of any emotion.
"Sir, would you like to see a doctor or get medicine?" The boss put down the work in his hands and asked politely.
Shen Ye walked to the counter, took out a few pieces of silver from his pocket, and placed them on the counter. He was silent for a moment, as if trying to organize his words, and finally squeezed out a few dry words from his throat:
"Get some medicine."
"Okay." The boss nodded and asked casually, "Who in your house are you arresting? An adult or a child? Tell me the symptoms so I can prescribe the right medicine."
This problem is exactly the problem that Chen Ye has rehearsed countless times but has never been able to solve.
His mind raced. House? He didn't have one. Adult or child? She was an adult. But who was she?
Wife? The word rolled through his heart, bringing a surge of burning sensation, but he dared not speak it out loud. This sacred title should not be sullied by a desperado like him.
Sister? With his aloof look, who would believe he has a sister who needs care?
Friend? That word was too light.
In the end, he chose the safest and coldest description in his meager social vocabulary.
"A woman," he whispered.
The pharmacy owner's smile faltered. What kind of answer was that? He'd been practicing medicine for decades, and this was the first time he'd heard such a strange statement. But he was knowledgeable, so he assumed the other party didn't want to talk any more and changed the question.
"So...what disease does this girl have?"
Chen Ye's heart leaped into his throat. Here came the crucial question. He clenched his fists and answered according to the simplest answer he had prepared: "Serious injuries, fever."
"Oh?" The boss frowned, his expression becoming serious. "Where is the wound? How did you get it? Was it a knife wound or an arrow wound? Is the wound deep? Has it been treated?"
A series of professional and urgent questions, like a dense rain of arrows, instantly stunned Shen Ye.
He stood there, his lips moving but no words coming out.
What can he say?
Was it a leg wound? Yes. Was it caused by a sword? No, a branch, but no one would believe it. Was it deep? Not deep for him, but deadly for her. Was it treated? Yes, with the most brutal method, cutting open the rotting flesh and washing it with strong liquor...
None of these details can be expressed in words.
For the first time, a look of near bewilderment and helplessness appeared on his face, which had remained calm in the face of any torture.
Seeing him like this, the pharmacy owner became even more suspicious. This man spoke strangely, his expression was stiff, and when asked about his condition, he didn't know anything. It was really too suspicious. He couldn't help but be more vigilant, and his tone became cautious: "Sir, if you can't explain clearly, I can't prescribe medicine for you. Treating illnesses and saving lives is not a joke. Taking the wrong medicine can be fatal."
"I know." Chen Ye's voice was hoarse and urgent. "She... had a high fever. Her face was red, she was talking nonsense, and her body was burning."
He could only describe these most superficial symptoms, like an anxious but ignorant child.
"Just a fever?" the boss pressed. "Do you have a cough? Chills? Weakness in your limbs?"
"Chills...yes." Chen Ye remembered her whispers last night, "no cough. Weak...she's unconscious."
The boss twirled his beard and mused, "If it were just a fever caused by a cold, it would be easy to deal with. A few prescriptions to dispel the cold and relieve the symptoms would be enough. But you said she was seriously injured. This injury is the root of the problem!"
He brought the question back again.
Chen Ye felt a deep sense of powerlessness. He found that the calmness and control he prided himself on were being stripped away bit by bit in this small pharmacy. He was like a soldier stripped of his armor, naked and exposed to unfamiliar rules, clumsy and embarrassed.
He gritted his teeth and decided to reveal a little, but not too much.
"There's an injury on my leg," he said with difficulty. "It's been...treated."
"How did you deal with it?" The boss kept on asking. This was a doctor's duty.
The image of himself cutting through rotting flesh with a knife flashed through Chen Ye's mind. Unable to describe it, he could only use his actions to illustrate. He extended two fingers and made a "cutting" and "scraping" motion on his arm.
To outsiders, this action seemed extremely strange.
The boss's eyelids jumped and he gasped. In all his years of medical practice, he had never seen anyone describe "debridement" like this. This wasn't healing at all; it was more like removing bones!
Two other women in the shop, who were picking up abortion-preserving medication, also noticed the commotion and cast curious yet slightly fearful glances. They whispered to each other.
"Look at that person, he's so strange..."
"Yes, he was as pale as a ghost, and his speech was incoherent."
"Isn't he a wanted criminal by the government?"
These tiny sounds reached Chen Ye's ears, word for word. His body tensed instantly, an assassin's instinctive reaction. He felt like a wolf among a flock of sheep, being stared at by countless eyes, feeling uneasy.
He had never longed for darkness and shadow so much.
Looking at Chen Ye's appearance of being pushed to his limit, and thinking about his terrifying gesture just now, as well as the faint smell of blood on him, the experienced boss gradually sketched out a "truth" in his mind:
This pair was likely a duo fleeing from enemies or perhaps eloping. The man was seriously injured, and the woman was not spared. He had no medical knowledge, so he used only primitive methods to treat the woman's wound, which resulted in an infection and fever.
Thinking of this, the boss's vigilance gradually turned into a trace of sympathy and pity. The road ahead is long, and one's fate is beyond one's control. Who doesn't have some unspeakable secrets?
He sighed, waved his hand, and stopped asking those painful questions.
"That's all," the boss said. "Since you're not willing to elaborate, I'll just prescribe some medicine based on my experience."
Upon hearing this, Shen Ye's tense body finally relaxed. He looked at his boss, a hint of gratitude in his eyes that he hadn't even noticed.
The boss turned and walked to the medicine cabinet, grabbing some medicine while giving instructions, "I'll prescribe you three prescriptions. One is for clearing away heat, detoxifying, reducing inflammation and swelling, and it's mainly for the wound you mentioned. One is for reducing fever and expelling pathogenic factors, and it's used to lower body temperature. The third is for strengthening the body, replenishing qi and blood. You've lost too much blood and were frightened, so you're weak and need to be well nourished."
He deftly weighed the herbs such as Coptis chinensis, Honeysuckle, Forsythia suspensa, Chinese Angelica sinensis, and Astragalus membranaceus, divided them into three pieces of straw paper, and wrapped them carefully.
"Remember this," he handed the three medicine bags to Chen Ye and explained in detail how to use them. "This one, which is the darkest in color, is for healing wounds. Take it twice a day. After boiling it into a thick juice, take half internally and use the other half to clean wounds. This one, which has the strongest smell, is for reducing fever. If you have a severe fever, boil a batch and drink it. It will work quickly. This one, which has the mildest smell, is for nourishing the body. Drink it after the fever has subsided. Take one batch a day and slowly regulate your body."
Shen Ye listened carefully, taking every word in his mind. This was the first time he had been so focused on learning how to "save people" instead of "killing people."
"Thank you." He took the medicine bag, his voice still hoarse, but with a touch of sincerity.
He pushed the small change on the counter forward. The boss took a look, took out the smallest piece, and said, "That's enough. Use the rest to buy something for your daughter."
Shen Ye was stunned for a moment, without saying anything, he just silently took back the remaining silver and nodded.
He took the three medicine bags that carried all his hopes and fled from the pharmacy under the gaze of the owner and others, who looked at him like a monster, a mixture of sympathy, curiosity, and fear. He walked quickly into the morning mist and was quickly swallowed up.
The drugstore owner looked at his almost fleeing back, shook his head and sighed deeply.
It was not until he was completely away from the village and returned to the familiar wilderness that he felt relieved.
He lowered his head and glanced at the medicine bag he was holding tightly in his arms, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
The killer learned to save people, this difficult first lesson, he finally... passed.
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