Chapter 102

Chapter 102

Chen Jue received a patient he knew that day.

Zhou Quan.

The men from his village had long worked at the docks, sometimes even going out to sea.

The docks and city gates had been sealed for five days now. Even if Zhou Quan was among the last batch to come ashore, that had been five days ago. If he was only now in acute condition, what had he been eating in the days leading up to that?

Chen Jue placed him under special observation.

He asked how he'd gotten infected.

Zhou Quan described his symptoms—he'd already had them on the ship.

So it really was a pathogen brought from overseas.

Chen Jue kept him under special observation.

Imperial Physician He and the others also pressed him for details, asking what he'd been eating these past few days.

Zhou Quan said he drank a few ounces of liquor every day.

Strong liquor.

Imperial Physician He took a deep breath, unsure whether Zhou Quan was lucky or just blessed—he'd dared to drink strong liquor even with diarrhea, yet the liquor had killed the bacteria without him knowing. It had neutralized the pathogens in what he ate and drank.

But Imperial Physician He was somewhat disappointed, having hoped to catch a glimpse of the antidote from him.

He glanced at Chen Jue and saw no great disappointment on his face—just the same calm he'd kept through each failed round of medicine.

Chen Jue turned and went back to tweaking his prescriptions.

The medicines for diarrhea and vomiting were all the usual ones; these weren't fatal illnesses under normal circumstances. Mild cases caught early could hold steady on these anti-diarrheal and stomach-settling meds.

The problem now was patients who'd been found too late. The medicine could only keep them from getting worse, but prolonged dehydration would eventually do them in. Forty had already died, and nearly a hundred more were now in critical shape.

These were all common folk. Had the government not been spreading the word daily and treating people for free, they'd probably have waited until they couldn't take it anymore before coming in.

The disease hit too fast. By the time they realized they needed to go to the hospital, it was already too late.

Old Doctor Tang was worried sick.

He couldn't help glancing at Chen Jue, who was calmly tweaking his formulas. Chen Jue was too calm—almost cold-hearted. From the first case to the hundreds now, he'd never once looked anxious.

It wasn't that Chen Jue didn't care about his patients. Chen Jue hadn't been home for days.

He went from patient to patient and from medicine room to medicine room every day, devoting every hour of the day here, sleeping only two hours a day—working around the clock.

He never even asked about his kids at home. Even when his husband came to see him, he barely gave him a hurried glance.

In that moment, he showed a coldness that was hard for ordinary folks to understand.

Old Doctor Tang took a deep breath. Chen Jue wasn't like ordinary people—he'd never been ordinary. If there was such a thing as a medical fanatic in this world, it would surely be Chen Jue.

And that was fine, especially in times like this.

Untouched by outside distractions, able to focus single-mindedly and rationally on his medicines—that was worth more than any kind heart.

Doctor Zhao had already resorted to desperate measures, getting ready to sprinkle incense ash into the water. He claimed the incense ash from Sanqing Taoist Temple had protective powers.

Old Doctor Tang didn't even want to say anything.

Thank God Chen Jue was still there.

But just as Old Doctor Tang was thinking how reassuring it was to have Chen Jue around, he saw Chen Jue dumping dirt into the water.

Old Doctor Tang's eyes bugged out: "Young Doctor Chen! Why are you putting dirt in the water?"

"Persistent diarrhea is from an imbalance in gut flora. The foreign pathogen has thrown the locals' systems off. Now we need to get the gut back to its original state."

Chen Jue explained quickly, then realized he'd used too modern a term—Old Doctor Tang couldn't quite follow.

In later times, people on long trips would carry a handful of soil from home. After boiling it and letting it settle, they'd drink it, and within three days they'd be over it.

This soil had been fetched by Huo Jilin from the high slopes of Mount Ping, where Poria and patchouli plants grew.

High up, clean, untouched by feces, weathered by wind and snow, aged over many years—it was stable against pathogens.

The folks of Dongling County drank water that flowed down from this mountain.

Many cures for illnesses were found near the source of the disease—things that countered each other.

This cholera outbreak was caused by drinking water contaminated with feces, which threw off the gut flora. So they could try the counteracting approach.

On top of that, Chen Jue was also implanting healthy people's gut flora into some patients, hitting it from two angles.

Old Doctor Tang watched, astonished. But once Chen Jue explained it, he understood and accepted it.

Old Doctor Tang was quick to accept it—sometimes even quicker than Imperial Physician He. Maybe it was because he'd spent years among the common folk and knew lots of folk remedies.

So this time Chen Jue explained it to him in simple terms too.

Sure enough, after the explanation, Old Doctor Tang nodded again and again: "I see. Worth a try."

Doctor Zhao chimed in from the side: "Why can't my incense ash be tried too?"

Wasn't it basically the same? Wasn't incense ash just a kind of dirt? And this was from Sanqing Taoist Temple, at that!

And that Regional Commander Huo had set up camp at the foot of the western mountain—with Sanqing Taoist Temple just three hundred meters above—wasn't that also for good luck?

It was a form of the Zhuyou Ritual!

This time, before Chen Jue could say anything, Old Doctor Tang scolded him: "First, incense isn't dirt. Second, your incense came from the capital—it wasn't made from wood from Dongling County. It doesn't carry the local character of the water and soil.

Third, and most importantly, you sprinkled the incense ash straight into the medicine for patients to drink. Anything that hasn't been boiled can't be consumed."

Doctor Zhao was duly scolded and humbly took the lesson: "I was wrong."

He'd been watching Chen Jue use all sorts of things, researching everything, and wanted to learn from him too. His eyes were now red from lack of sleep too.

Of course, Chen Jue had spent even more time than him—he was practically consumed by it. With that thought, Doctor Zhao said to him, "Doctor Chen, it's already the third watch of the night. You should get some sleep."

Chen Jue grunted in acknowledgment: "I'll sleep once I finish this. You all go rest."

This was his rest area—there was a simple bamboo cot over in the corner.

Knowing they couldn't talk him out of it, Doctor Zhao had no choice but to leave.

Who knows how much more time passed. In the deep of night, a breeze drifted in, bringing a chill with it.

Huo Jilin crouched down in front of Chen Jue, who had fallen asleep slumped over the table.

He gathered him up and laid him on the bamboo bed, and Chen Jue didn't wake. Huo Jilin knew he was completely worn out.

There were too few doctors. In this ancient time, medicine was a craft passed down orally from master to disciple, and it never really took off. At most, a clinic would have three doctors at a time, and even then they were swamped—let alone now.

Even with all the medical apprentices pitching in, it still wasn't enough.

So when he arrived, he could still hear the patients who hadn't yet fallen asleep begging the gods for mercy.

They no longer hoped Chen Jue would come up with a cure; instead, they turned to the gods, wondering what the gods were angry or happy about.

"Did you hear? So many more people got sick today..."

"I've never seen this many people sick..."

"They still haven't made the cure—we must've ticked off the heavens, and they're punishing us..."

"Did you hear what a wise man said? He said this is heaven's judgment on us... We're doomed..."

"...It's this unlucky year, I tell you. He said

it's the first year of the new emperor's reign, and a leap-month year at that. You all know leap months are bad luck, with all sorts of taboos. The year should kick off with red banners, but this year they hung white instead..."

"The Late Emperor didn't make it past the new year. When the new emperor took the throne, the Late Emperor's mourning period wasn't even over, so the whole country was draped in white, and the palace didn't have a hint of celebration. That's a bad sign right from the start."

"Ah, it's the new emperor's first year, and it's bad luck."

"Do you think the heavens are trying to tell us something? Is the new emperor..."

"Are you crazy? How dare you say the new emperor has brought down heaven's wrath?"

"Crazy? We're dying anyway—what's there to be afraid of..."

"The Son of Heaven, the Son of Heaven—if heaven was happy with this son, why would it send so many disasters? First floods, then plague..."

This talk wasn't just in this one spot. It spread through every county and prefecture, and even worse, because it spread so fast.

Rumors aren't like a plague—they spread way faster.

Like winged mosquitoes, they seeped into every corner. Within days, they'd swept through every street and alley.

The common folks didn't dare speak ill of the current emperor. No one would dare joke about the emperor.

So where this rumor came from was obvious.

The plague might not have been the Third Prince's doing, but the rumor definitely was.

Huo Jilin stared coldly at the pitch-black sky outside. It was already late at night; the night watchman had just called the third watch.

Staring at the murky sky, he sneered to himself.

This was the way of the world—when survival was on the line and the plague was still out of control, someone was already stirring up rumors to grab the throne.

He'd said all along that the Third Prince should've been wiped out completely.

If you don't root out the weeds, this is what you get.

Huo Jilin took a deep breath, pulled the tent's makeshift door shut, and lay down next to Chen Jue.

With Chen Jue in this world, he didn't care about anything else. Let the rumors go hang.

The medical tent was shoddily built, thrown together by Huo Jilin as fast as he could. He could hear frogs croaking and insects chirping outside.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of herbs, mixed with the sharp smell of lime powder—not exactly pleasant. Huo Jilin lowered his head a little, breathing in Chen Jue's faint scent, which made him feel better.

Truth be told, Chen Jue had been soaking in these medical tents day and night, smelling only of herbs and alcohol. But Huo Jilin still wanted to be close to him. He held Chen Jue, half-lowered his head, and slept.

He fell asleep within moments.

At the fourth watch, a medical apprentice came in to wake Chen Jue—Doctor Chen had told him to. But this time, Doctor He stopped him.

Doctor He looked at the two men curled up together on the simple cot and shook his head.

Let Chen Jue sleep a bit longer.

These days, this junior apprentice of his had been working day and night, completely worn out. Until a truly effective cure was found, they could manage with the other medicines, and the patients could be taken care of.

His old father and Old Doctor Tang couldn't keep up physically, and truth be told, Chen Jue should be resting too—he was still a young man, after all.

It had been barely over a year since he gave birth.

If he didn't rest, his immune system would drop, and he'd be at risk of infection.

Doctor He had picked up a lot of new terms from Chen Jue.

He sighed. He'd learned a whole set of medical skills, only to run into a plague like this before he could even use them.

But even a plague would pass eventually.

Before, he couldn't even stand to hear the word "plague"—it meant death on a massive scale.

It was the grim, black shadow of death pressing down on everyone's hearts.

But thanks to the decisive actions of Chen Jue and Huo Jilin, this terrifying scourge had been held back.

Chen Jue jolted awake. Dawn hadn't broken yet; a sliver of a crescent moon still hung in the sky.

It must be just before dawn. But the fourth watch had passed, and the apprentice hadn't come to wake him.

Chen Jue tried to sit up but couldn't—he bumped into someone's head.

Huo Jilin woke up with a pained grimace, clutching his chin. Chen Jue recognized him, touched his face, and asked, "You okay? When did you get back?"

How had he slept that deeply?

Huo Jilin had gone to a neighboring town to help set up medical tents and keep order—he'd been away for days. Chen Jue had no idea when he'd come back, and now, waking up to see him, he couldn't hide the warmth welling up from his chest. It just rose on its own.

Huo Jilin took his hand and said, "As soon as the medical tents in Changling County were set up and all the patients were settled, I came back."

He'd come to see Chen Jue, even just for a quick look—that was the plan. But he'd ended up falling asleep.

He still had to leave. Now that he was awake, he had to get going.

There was still so much to do.

But he looked at Chen Jue and couldn't bring himself to leave just yet.

"That's good." Chen Jue let out a sigh of relief at his words.

Huo Jilin looked at him. "Is that all you care about? Did you miss me?"

Chen Jue glanced at him. Huo Jilin's stubble had grown out; a guy this particular looking so rough around the edges, which showed how he'd been burning the candle at both ends.

Part of him wished Huo Jilin could rest up before hitting the road again, but seeing him race back overnight, something in his chest loosened.

All the hoping in the world couldn't beat seeing him right there in front of him.

Chen Jue smiled at him. "I missed you."

Hearing Chen Jue say it so quick and straight threw Huo Jilin for a loop.

He wondered if he should thank the plague—though that felt wrong, since it had worn everyone down, with no guarantee of tomorrow.

What he really meant was: hard times show you who truly cares.

In days when you never knew when you might drop, longing grew like spring shoots in the wind, breaking through everything, sprouting and shooting up fast.

When it came down to life and death, pride didn't matter anymore.

Huo Jilin stood and reached out, wanting to pull Chen Jue into a hug. This time, Chen Jue reached out too and gave his back a few pats. Huo Jilin held him tightly and whispered, "Chen Jue, I love you."

In life or death, in this life or the next.

Chen Jue froze in his arms for a beat, then patted his back and rested his chin on his shoulder.

He loved Huo Jilin too, he thought.