Stone tablet hangs pot, undercurrent surges
Qiongying stayed in Shijie Town.
She knew that without a stable income and a secure identity, hiding in this unfamiliar place for long was a pipe dream. Money would eventually run out, and a stranger with nothing to do would easily arouse suspicion.
Practicing medicine was the quickest and least conspicuous way she could think of to establish herself. Her martial arts skills were her life-saving trump card, something she couldn't easily show to others. However, modern medical knowledge combined with contemporary herbal medicine was enough for her to establish a foothold among the common people.
She rented a simple shop with a small courtyard on the edge of town, near the canal dock. The place was a mixed crowd, well-informed, mostly lower-class people and itinerant merchants who didn't dwell too deeply on the origins of doctors. She hung a homemade wooden sign with the words "An's Medical Clinic" on it, using it as a pseudonym.
In its early days, the clinic was quiet. People naturally doubted the trust of a young, unremarkable "doctor." Qiongying remained calm, spending her days sorting herbs or reading through a few rudimentary medical books she'd found at the market, silently integrating modern medical knowledge with contemporary diagnostic and treatment methods.
A turning point occurred one sweltering afternoon. A porter at the dock was unloading cargo when a heavy object struck his shin, fracturing it and oozing blood. His fellow workers frantically carried him to the nearest clinic. The old doctor on duty, observing the mangled wound and twisted leg, simply shook his head. "The bones and muscles have been injured, and the poison has already entered. I'm afraid he's not going to make it," he said, signaling them to prepare for his funeral.
As the workers were filled with grief and helplessness, someone mentioned the newly opened "An's Medical Clinic." They carried the wounded to Qiongying's shop as a last resort.
Qiongying examined the injury and found it serious: an open fracture with significant contamination. In an age without antibiotics, the risk of infection was extremely high. But she remained undeterred. She calmly directed her coworkers to construct a makeshift operating table using door panels, boil water, and prepare her homemade "disinfectant"—repeatedly distilled and purified from high-proof alcohol—as well as carefully ground, steamed, and air-dried mulberry paper string (a substitute for catgut).
Amidst the bewildered gazes of her fellow workers, she cleaned the wound, deftly repositioned the bones, and sutured them. Throughout the entire process, she displayed no fear, her focused expression and steady, precise movements conveying a compelling aura. She then applied an anti-inflammatory and analgesic herbal ointment, secured the wound with a shewed splint, and prescribed a herbal decoction for internal use.
"Whether he can make it through this depends on his luck and subsequent care." Qiongying washed her hands and spoke calmly, "Change the dressing on time, keep it clean, and report immediately if he develops a fever."
She did not charge a high consultation fee, only the basic cost of the medicinal materials.
Miraculously, after several days of high fever, the worker actually survived, and his wounds did not worsen but began to heal. Word spread like wildfire, and the reputation of the young "Little Doctor An" of "An's Clinic" for his medical skills and kindness quickly spread among the dock laborers and the lower classes.
Gradually, more and more people sought her help. From common ailments like colds, dampness, and injuries, to hidden ailments in women and children's smallpox, Qiongying always offered unique and effective treatments. Her medications were precise, her techniques were unique (conforming to modern anatomy and aseptic principles), and her fees were low. For the truly needy, she would even offer no fee.
She quickly established herself in Shijie Town and became a respected doctor known as "An Doctor," a position she maintained for the poor. This identity served as a shield for her.
On weekdays, while practicing medicine, she also kept abreast of news. Through patients and local gossip, she learned that Tian Hu's manhunt didn't seem to extend to Yuncheng. Perhaps, as Zhang Qing had predicted, the focus was elsewhere. Meanwhile, the situation in Liangshanpo was becoming increasingly clear: Song Jiang had departed for Tokyo by imperial decree, and the Liangshan army would soon depart, preparing for reorganization by the imperial court. The next step would most likely be an expedition against Wang Qing of Huaixi.
One day, Qiongying was drying medicinal herbs in the backyard when she suddenly heard hurried footsteps and noise coming from the front hall.
"Doctor An! Is Doctor An here? Save him quickly!"
Qiongying wiped her hands and walked out quickly. She saw several men in tight clothes with swords on their waists rushing in, carrying an unconscious man. The man's face was purple, his breathing was weak, and there were traces of vomit on his chest.
"What's going on?" Qiongying went forward to check and immediately determined that it was airway obstruction combined with suffocation.
"We were drinking in the tavern in front, and Brother Li Si...he ate too fast and a piece of meat got stuck in his mouth, and that's what happened!" A man was sweating profusely in anxiety.
The situation was critical, and there was no time to ask questions. Qiongying immediately performed the Heimlich maneuver, hugging the man known as Li Si from behind, clenching her fists, and violently punching him in the abdomen.
One, two, three!
"Ugh!" A piece of bloody flesh spurted out of Li Si's mouth. He took a deep breath and then started coughing violently. His face gradually turned from purple to red.
The men were stunned, and then burst into shouts of surprise: "Alive! Alive! Brother Li Si is alive!"
Qiongying breathed a sigh of relief, helped Li Si sit down, and poured him a glass of water to help him breathe. "Although the foreign body has been removed, your throat may be damaged. You need to eat liquid food and talk less for the next few days."
The men thanked Qiongying profusely, their attitudes extremely respectful. Qiongying noticed that although they dressed like ordinary jianghu people, their movements were methodical and their eyes sharp, unlike those of ordinary thugs. The bearded man in the lead was especially calm and composed, with slightly bulging temples, clearly possessing considerable martial arts skills.
"Dr. An's miraculous healing skills have brought me back to health. I'm deeply grateful!" The bearded man clasped his fists and said, "I wonder how much the consultation fee is..."
"It's just a small favor, nothing to worry about." Qiongying waved her hand and asked casually, "You guys don't look like locals, are you just passing through here?"
The bearded man's eyes flickered slightly, and he smiled, "Doctor An, you have a good eye. We are indeed passing through here, doing some small business of escorting goods. Today, thanks to you, doctor, otherwise my life would be in danger. If you need any help in the future, please go to the Shunfeng warehouse in the east of the city and find a man named Tiebi. He will definitely be of service!"
"Shunfeng Warehouse? Iron Arm?" Qiongying's heart was moved, but she remained expressionless. "You are too kind, sir."
After seeing them off, Qiongying began to feel suspicious. She had heard a little about Shunfeng Warehouse; it seemed to have only opened a few months ago and was doing quite well. And the nickname "Iron Arm" vaguely reminded her of one of the heroes of Liangshan... but she wasn't sure.
Could it be that the Liangshan troops had already begun secretly deploying spies and strongholds in Yuncheng in preparation for the army's march? Or did they have other plans?
She felt an invisible net slowly tightening. The place she had chosen to stay had, without her realizing it, formed a subtle connection with the forces of Liangshan.
Whether it is a blessing or a curse is still unknown.
However, what was even more unexpected to her was that one evening a few days later, when the clinic was about to close, a familiar figure appeared at the door.
The afterglow of the setting sun stretched the shadow of the visitor very long. He was wearing a half-worn blue shirt and was leading a dusty horse. His face was a little tired, but his eyes were still clear and bright, and he was looking at Qiongying who was tidying up the medicine cabinet.
If it’s not Zhang Qing, then who is it?
The moment their eyes met, the air seemed to freeze.
Qiongying's heart skipped a beat, and she nearly dropped the medicine scale in her hand. How had he found this place?!
Zhang Qing's gaze paused on her face for a moment, as if confirming something, and then he slowly walked into the clinic, his voice slightly hoarse:
"Doctor An," he paused, his tone calm, "do you have a prescription for...heart disease?"
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