Chapter 133: Fighting Malaria on Dongfan Island

"Wow, this pastry is really sweet!" Su Qingmei emerged from the cabin, holding a piece of square pastry in her hands. "Brother Bai, want a taste?"

Bailangzai: "No need, you eat it yourself."

Su Qingmei took another bite, squinting her eyes in enjoyment: "What's this pastry called? I don't think I've ever seen it before."

Bailangzai: "The helmsman had Uncle Chen make it fresh this morning. It's called sachima."

"Kill-the-horse?" Su Qingmei repeated the name, feeling it sounded a bit odd, but as long as it tasted good, that was what mattered.

As for sachima, Lin Qian had thought of it when he went to Liaodong. The method was simple. The real reason Lin Qian was in such a hurry to make it was to test out the era's white sugar refining technology.

After all, the yellow-mud-water leaching method for refining white sugar mentioned in the Tiangong Kaiwu had never been successfully reproduced by modern experimenters, and from a theoretical standpoint, Lin Qian also had his doubts.

When he finally bought the white sugar and saw it in hand—indeed pure white as snow, just as the ancient book recorded—he could only concede that the ancients truly had skill.

Seeing Su Qingmei, Su Kang's confident expression could not help but dim.

Lin Qian had already guessed what Su Kang was thinking, and immediately said: "The conditions on the Eastern Barbarian Isle are harsh. Bringing your daughter along would likely be inconvenient. Why not leave her on Nan'ao Island? I'll have Bai Qing look after her.

Don't worry—the Eastern Barbarian Isle and Nan'ao Island may sound like they're separated by a vast ocean, but in reality it's only a day or two of sailing.

Once you go to the Eastern Barbarian Isle and verify the effectiveness of the qinghao, you can come back. All told, no more than a month or so—it won't keep you and your daughter apart for long."

To be sure, Su Kang couldn't trust the profession of Lin Qian's crew, but when it came to not harming the common people in the slightest, they were truly unlike anything he had seen in his life.

With strict military discipline plus the Criminal Justice Bureau patrolling day and night, even Guangzhou city compared to Nan'ao looked like a den of thieves.

Moreover, Su Kang knew Bai Qing as well—when they came ashore at Nan'ao, Su Qingmei had been on Bai Qing's ship and had indeed suffered no mistreatment.

After thinking it over, Su Kang made up his mind: "In that case, I entrust my daughter to the helmsman!"

With that, he bowed all the way to the ground.

Lin Qian exchanged a few polite words and made a gesture of raising him up.

Having settled the matter of Su Kang and the malaria, Lin Qian then called over Mute Huang and Xiao Jiu to discuss the next phase of the Santa Ana's refit plans.

According to Lin Qian's design, the new gun deck, being close to the bottom of the hull with a low center of gravity, could accommodate cannons of larger bore.

Once the refit was complete, the Santa Ana would gain more cannons, larger bores, and greater firepower. If they ever got another chance to bombard Zhenjiang city, the number of Tartars they blasted to death could double again.

Lin Qian kept going over the details of the refit: "... Once she's in dry dock, get rid of the Spanish lettering on the stern. This galleon is already a Chinese warship now—no need to keep a Spanish name.

The new deck needs to carry larger-bore cannons. The gun bodies are heavier, so the deck planking must be of better quality—the timber strength has to be sufficient."

Xiao Jiu recorded as he spoke, his face turning bitter: "Helmsman, speaking of timber, I'm afraid the wood on the island isn't going to be enough."

Lin Qian raised his fishing rod and looked at him: "What's the matter?"

"Helmsman, shipbuilding timber has to be air-dried. Generally, large pieces need three to four years of air-drying, and even small pieces need over a year. Since we came to the island, most of the timber we've used for shipbuilding was air-dried at Shen'ao Harbor.

But over the past six months or so, repairing the various ships and building the eagle ships has used up a good deal of it. The remaining timber for refitting the galleon—I'm afraid it'll only barely be enough."

Lin Qian felt a slight headache. He had overlooked the problem of timber air-drying—after all, in the modern era hulls were carbon fiber; who built ships out of wood anymore?

Then Lin Qian asked how other shipyards of the same era built their ships. Surely they couldn't all wait five or six years from selecting the timber to finishing the vessel.

Mute Huang gestured for a while, and Xiao Jiu said: "Master says that large shipyards stockpile large quantities of air-dried timber in advance, using it as needed, then cutting new wood to replenish the drying stocks."

Lin Qian rubbed his temples. The curse of the "century-long navy" was upon him again—this kind of accumulated heritage built up over years truly couldn't be achieved overnight.

Seeing Lin Qian with his head bowed in thought, Mute Huang gestured a motion of lighting a fire and fanning it, then shaped his hands into the form of a house.

Xiao Jiu understood and said: "Helmsman, Master says that if you're in a hurry for timber, you can use the fire-roasting and smoke-curing method. Build a room, and like curing meat, smoke-dry the wood. In a hurry, it can be done in a month—it just takes a lot of manpower and firewood."

Lin Qian: "Leave this matter to Uncle Huang. The smoke-curing method is very important—don't treat it as a one-off affair. Keep researching it over the long term and develop a standard, workable procedure."

Mute Huang and Xiao Jiu both nodded in acknowledgment.

"Helmsman, lunch is ready!" Da Bing and Bailangzai handed a bowl of rice to each person.

Lin Qian took his. He saw that lunch was a large bowl with a braised fish in sauce, the sauce soaked into the rice—the aroma of rice, sauce, and fresh fish mingled together, wafting up to meet him, making anyone who smelled it unable to stop their mouth from watering.

The fish had just been caught—the hook removed, scales scraped off by Da Bing using seawater—then swiftly thrown into the pot to stew. When the sauce was poured over it, it was still flopping around in the pot. Truly the ultimate in freshness.

Taking a bite of the stewed fish meat, it carried the ruggedness of a fisherman's cooking and the salty savor of sea fish—absolutely delicious, enough to make one wish they could swallow their own tongue along with it.

After lunch, Lin Qian sailed the ship across this stretch of sea for a long while, constantly turning, changing sails, and tacking against the wind—putting the passengers on board through heart-stopping terror.

He wasn't doing this to show off his skill, but rather to test the performance of the Bermuda sails, ensuring the reliability of these cotton-and-hemp sails under harsh weather and complex wind conditions.

The testing continued until evening. Despite Lin Qian's relentless abuse, the sails suffered only minor damage—a quality far exceeding the passing standard.

Amid the sunset glow, Lin Qian brought the whole crew back to Yandun Bay.

The two eagle ships with hard sails also pulled into port alongside. Their escorts, who had spent the whole journey following behind in fear and trembling, finally relaxed.

In early August, the Santa Ana entered dry dock for her second refit.

In the middle of that month, Bai Qing's fleet arrived at Nan'ao with the Liaodong refugees.

Lin Qian carefully selected half of the finest craftsmen from among them to stay on Nan'ao Island.

The remaining refugees lingered for half a month, then, after the typhoon season had passed, crossed the sea to the Eastern Barbarian Isle—Su Kang among them.

By then the seasonal monsoon had gradually stabilized. From Nan'ao Island to Tayouan Islet, the wind was favorable all the way, and the ships were fast.

Just as Lin Qian had said, the journey took only two days before they arrived at Tayouan Islet.

The fleet arrived at dusk, the sky a blaze of red on the horizon. Su Kang stood at the ship's rail, gazing at Tayouan Islet, the inner sea, and further off, the Danshui River and Chikan.

All he could see was wild, untamed vastness—dense forests everywhere, interspersed with countless mud pits and marshes. Vague glimpses showed great herds of deer darting through the woods, and along the shore he could faintly make out bare-chested natives holding bows and arrows, gazing toward the fleet.

The salty, fishy sea breeze carried the humus smell of mangrove swamp mud, mixed with the fragrance of unknown plants blown from the distant forest, along with the rank smell of dried venison and the woodsmoke of cooking fires.

His ears were filled with the sounds of ships casting mooring lines at port, the chatter of refugees and officials, the shouts of those maintaining order, the wind, and the distant calls of deer.

Gazing at this vast, wild land, even Su Kang could not help but feel a contradictory surge of fear and worry for the future, mixed with hope and excitement.

Just as he was lost in emotion, a rough voice full of surprise came from behind: "Doctor Su, you've come too? Wonderful!"

Su Kang turned around. The speaker was a sturdy middle-aged sailor with rust-colored skin bearing traces of salt stains, his forehead and face etched with many wrinkles. He wore hempen clothes, a wild-goose-feather saber at his waist, and a pair of eyes fixed on Su Kang, his face wreathed in smiles.

Su Kang recognized the man and clasped his hands in greeting: "Boat Captain."

Chen Jiao waved his hand heartily: "Ah, not Boat Captain anymore—my new post is Governor-General of the Eastern Barbarian Isle."

Su Kang: "Governor-General Chen, this is a letter the helmsman asked me to bring you." With that, he took an object from his breast.

Chen Jiao took it and tucked it into his bosom, then warmly patted Su Kang's arm and pulled him off the boat, saying with a laugh: "No need for all that ceremony, come on, let's get to the barracks and give you a welcome feast! We're short on just about everything here, but venison we've got plenty of — time to build Dr. Su up a bit."

By now, all fifteen hundred-plus Liaodong refugees had disembarked and were lined up on the sandbar, where clerks were handing out mosquito nets, lean-tos, and other supplies.

Chen Jiao said casually: "Tayouan Isle has limited resources — can't house this many people. Tomorrow morning, most of them will be sent to Chikan... oh, Chikan is over there on the shore, near Freshwater Creek... those odd names, all coined by the natives."

Su Kang asked doubtfully: "There are natives there? Sending people ashore so rashly — won't that spark conflict?"

Chen Jiao laughed: "Not a chance! I've gotten chummy with the big native tribes at Chikan. See those deer over there?"

Following Chen Jiao's gaze, Su Kang saw that beside a simple dock, carcasses of sika deer and sambar deer were piled higher than a man's head, with a dozen or so butchers busily skinning, sawing off antlers, collecting blood, and carving meat in a frenzy of activity.

The butchers had clearly been at it for so long that the ground beneath their feet was stained blackish-red, countless flies buzzing around in swarms, the stench of blood carried on the wind, forcing its way into one's nostrils.

In the distance, on the shore at Chikan, boats were still steadily ferrying in deer carcasses.

Chen Jiao said proudly: "These deer — some we traded for with the natives, some they just gave us. The helmsman said we should make friends with these natives. We trade them our ironware, tools, cloth, and liquor for their deer — each side gets what it needs. In the helmsman's words, this is called... right, a win-win!"

As they talked, the two arrived at the barracks on Tayouan Isle. Though called barracks, the buildings were already nearly as good as military housing — constructed entirely of wood, surrounded by a stockade wall, with watchtowers at the corners.

Such a fortress in the Ming style, appearing abruptly in this savage, blood-eating wilderness of the Eastern Barbarian Isle, delivered a visual impact no less striking than spotting an oasis in the desert.

The camp was also in the midst of heavy construction — carpenters bustling about, building new dwellings, a scene of vigorous, thriving activity.

This sight, set against the raw primitiveness of Chikan, truly stretched the contrast to its absolute limit.

When Su Kang had first learned that Lin Qian was developing the Eastern Barbarian Isle, he had actually been utterly contemptuous — every soul in the Ming knew the Eastern Barbarian Isle was a wild, miasmic backwater.

In his view, this sea bandit chieftain's so-called "development" was nothing but a pretty name for plunder.

Ming folk weren't fools. The Eastern Barbarian Isle wasn't far from shore, yet the people of Fujian and Guangdong would rather starve at home than sail across to it — precisely because they dreaded the hardship of breaking new ground.

As Su Kang figured it, Lin Qian's development of the Eastern Barbarian Isle would inevitably end with nothing to plunder, ultimately drawing water with a bamboo basket — all for naught.

He'd even prepared himself to watch Lin Qian make a fool of himself.

Yet now, seeing the Eastern Barbarian Isle with his own eyes — not only was it different from what he'd imagined, it was positively thriving, full of vitality, as if it truly could sustain long-term growth.

Su Kang found himself filled with shock.

If Lin Qian, this sea bandit chieftain, actually pulled it off — bringing the Eastern Barbarian Isle into the map of Cathay — wouldn't that be a deed benefiting the present age and blessing a thousand generations, a truly eternal achievement?

Even if Lin Qian spent his whole life robbing and raiding, burning and killing, accomplishing this one thing alone would earn him a place in history.

At this thought, Su Kang couldn't help but reflect — could his earlier view of Lin Qian have been biased?

Then Su Kang recalled the purpose of his visit, thinking to himself that even if Lin Qian had some talent for land development, his theories on treating malaria — especially the nonsense about miasma and mosquitoes — were still utterly, completely wrong!

As he mused, Chen Jiao led Su Kang into a large hall, where they sat drinking tea and chatting for a while, until a crewman brought in food and wine.

Chen Jiao also summoned the various ship captains and island overseers to join them.

These men had all come from Nan'ao Isle and all knew Su Kang, so they took turns toasting him.

Noticing that the feast consisted mostly of venison, Su Kang couldn't help but warn: this stuff was highly nourishing but also highly "heating" — eat too much and the body's yin and yang would fall out of balance, fire blazing upward.

Chen Jiao smiled wryly at this: "We're on the Eastern Barbarian Isle — why worry about getting overheated?"

Sensing there was something beneath the words, Su Kang pressed for an explanation.

Chen Jiao said: "Ah, never mind. It's Dr. Su's first day on the isle — we can discuss official matters tomorrow. Come, let's drink."

After the banquet ended, night had fallen, and Su Kang was led to a guest room to rest.

The room was simply furnished — just a cabinet, a table, two wooden chairs, and a bed.

What mildly surprised Su Kang, however, was that the window was fitted with a gauze mosquito net. Such things weren't exorbitantly expensive, but neither were they something ordinary households would buy.

Just as the Tang poet Pi Rixiu wrote: "The poor scholar has no crimson gauze; he endures his suffering lying in a thatched hut."

Recalling that every refugee had been issued a mosquito net upon landing, Su Kang found it all the stranger, and asked: "Life on the isle is hard, furniture isn't even complete — why equip mosquito nets?"

"The helmsman said malaria is spread by mosquitoes, and mosquito nets are for preventing malaria," the attendant replied. Then he walked to the table, where an incense burner sat. He opened it and lit the contents, saying: "Inside is shade-dried duckweed and realgar — also for keeping mosquitoes away. Dr. Su should also remember to keep doors and windows tightly shut, and not let any mosquitoes in."

Su Kang was already trembling with rage. He roared: "Utter nonsense! Malaria is caused by miasma — what does it have to do with mosquitoes? To dispel miasma, one must adapt to the time of day: doors and windows should be shut tight at dawn and dusk, and opened for ventilation when the weather is clear! What kind of reasoning is this — shutting everything tight without distinction? Open them, open all the windows!"

(This line appears to be missing from the source text.)

Su Kang's foul temper was known all over Nan'ao Isle — he showed some restraint only in front of Lin Qian. Before a mere attendant like this, there was no chance of him swallowing his anger.

The attendant said urgently: "No, that won't do! Keeping doors and windows shut at night, hanging mosquito nets, and burning mugwort, realgar, lotus leaves, and the like — these are rules set by the helmsman and the Governor-General. They must be followed on Tayouan Isle. There are night patrols who check!"

Su Kang cursed for a good while longer; the attendant was nearly in tears but refused to budge.

Su Kang had no choice. He stopped insisting and simply went to sleep as things were.

The attendant, as if pardoned, shut the door and left. After he was gone, Su Kang got up himself, extinguished the realgar in the incense burner, and opened the window.

Tonight the moonlight was bright, the sky clear of clouds, a gentle breeze wafting through — just the right time for opening the window to air the room and drive out miasma. He would simply close it again at dawn.

As for the mosquito net — Su Kang thought it over and left it hanging. Even if mosquitoes didn't spread malaria, getting bitten was still insufferable.

Waking the next morning, Su Kang felt refreshed and clear-headed. He casually scratched at his arm, then dressed, got out of bed, closed the window, washed up briefly, ate breakfast, and went to see Chen Jiao.

"Dr. Su rises early," Chen Jiao greeted him.

"Governor-General Chen, we can discuss official matters today, I take it?" Su Kang got straight to the point.

"Dr. Su is a man of direct speech. Very well — take a look at that." Chen Jiao pointed to a raised brazier, in which something seemed to be burning, giving off wisps of green smoke.

Su Kang sniffed: "Mugwort?"

Chen Jiao nodded: "Correct. The helmsman ordered it burned to repel mosquitoes. This Eastern Barbarian Isle is covered in marshes and ponds — mosquitoes breed all too easily. We guard against them in every way we can, yet in the months since we landed, several people have still fallen ill..."

Su Kang cut in urgently: "Why didn't you say so yesterday? Take me to see the patients."

Chen Jiao said: "This illness comes fast and goes fast, always recurring — won't kill anyone anytime soon..."

That said, Chen Jiao still took the lead, guiding Su Kang out of the camp toward a remote building.

Su Kang followed behind him, medical case on his back.

Malaria itself doesn't spread from person to person, but it does spread through mosquitoes as a vector, so per Lin Qian's instructions, the infected were still isolated separately.

Along the way, listening to Chen Jiao's nonsense about mosquitoes spreading malaria, Su Kang finally could bear it no longer and said: "The helmsman's claim that mosquitoes spread malaria is but one man's opinion — hardly credible. Otherwise, with Tayouan Isle's mosquitoes so well guarded against, there should be no patients at all."

"The helmsman's words have never once been wrong." Chen Jiao said firmly.

"Hmph!" Su Kang gave a cold snort.

As they spoke, the two had already arrived at the sick ward, where six patients lay inside.

Two were in the throes of their illness, burning with unrelenting fever, while the other four tended to them as if perfectly healthy.

Malaria, also called the chills-and-fever sickness, causes the body to alternate between cold and hot—these are its classic symptoms.

Su Kang examined each patient and confirmed it was malaria beyond doubt.

Opening his medicine chest, he found several remedies for malaria inside, including the fresh Artemisia annua branches Lin Qian had told him to bring.

Though they were young branches, after being picked and jostled about at sea for so long, they had already begun to wilt.

Su Kang hesitated a moment, but ultimately dared not gamble with his patients' lives, and chose the conventional treatment of Dichroa root and Bupleurum.

Su Kang personally weighed out the herbs on the spot and had them decocted. After one dose of the decoction, the two men feverish from malaria indeed showed some relief, and promptly hailed him as a miracle doctor.

This was because Dichroa root is a potent medicine, and Su Kang had added extra for faster results—hence the effect of curing the disease at the first dose.

Seeing this, Su Kang grew even more certain that orthodox medicine was what truly worked, and that Lin Qian's words were nothing but the fanciful notions of a sea bandit chieftain.

Chen Jiao, meanwhile, secretly admired the helmsman all the more. In the letter Lin Qian had given him, it was clearly stated that Su Kang was sent by him to treat malaria with Artemisia annua.

What Artemisia annua was, Chen Jiao had never heard of. Just now, Su Kang had weighed and decocted the herbs himself, so Chen Jiao naturally assumed Su Kang had used the Artemisia annua.

Now that malaria treatment seemed promising, Chen Jiao's mind was greatly at ease—the last obstacle to Chi-kan had been cleared. He immediately took his leave of Su Kang and went to the docks to direct the Liaodong refugees in landing at Chi-kan.

Over the following days, Su Kang frequently shuttled between Tayouan Islet and Chi-kan, treating malaria.

Unlike Tayouan Islet, Chi-kan's surroundings had more marshes and swamps, with heavier miasma. No sooner had the Liaodong refugees come ashore than they fell ill with malaria one after another.

Su Kang could only rush back and forth, kept extremely busy.

Chen Jiao was even busier than Su Kang. Every day he was responsible for clearing farmland, building houses and docks, maintaining relations with the natives, and keeping watch against the wokou to the north of the East Barbarian Isle—he never met with Su Kang again.

Gradually, Su Kang began to sense that something was wrong. Dichroa root and Bupleurum could suppress the illness effectively, but they could not eradicate malaria.

On Tayouan Islet, the six patients who had drunk Su Kang's decoction showed no sign of improvement.

What unsettled Su Kang most was that people had already died of malaria—and among the dead were the original six patients from Tayouan Islet.

When Su Kang heard this news, he was grinding medicine. He rose in shock, and suddenly felt the world spinning around him, darkness flooding his vision—he fainted.

When he awoke, he found a ring of people around his bed, and even Chen Jiao was among them.

"Governor-General Chen..." Su Kang tried to rise, but was alarmed to find his limbs would not obey. His voice was terribly weak, and his body seemed to be burning with fever. Could it be...

Chen Jiao said with pained regret: "Physician Su, you know the helmsman's rules—everyone must obey them... So in a moment, someone will carry you to isolation. Whatever you need, Physician Su, say it now, and I'll have it sent to you."

Lately on Tayouan Islet, only those six had died of malaria, so the others did not think much of it.

Only Chen Jiao, who had returned from Chi-kan, understood how terrifying this disease was. In just a few short days, several dozen of the Liaodong refugees had fallen ill, and three of them had already died.

Most of the time, the decoctions Su Kang prescribed only worked shortly after being drunk, and could never effect a true cure. Moreover, drinking these decoctions for long caused vomiting, which weakened the body and made death come faster.

Though Chen Jiao was reluctant to admit it, this disease seemed to have no cure. Even the occasional recovery was merely the body toughing it out on its own.

Someone of Su Kang's age... had almost no chance of recovering on his own.

That was why Chen Jiao wore such an expression of pained regret.

Su Kang understood that his time was short, and his expression dimmed. He did not care about his own life—what grieved him was that he had ultimately failed to find a cure for malaria, feeling rather like a general who dies before his campaign is won.

"Prepare more Dichroa root and Bupleurum for me." Su Kang stubbornly believed his dosage ratios were off.

Chen Jiao was taken aback: "No need to prepare Artemisia annua?"

In Lin Qian's letter, it was clearly stated that Artemisia annua was a specific remedy for malaria, and he had always assumed Su Kang was treating the illness with it.

That was why, when malaria refused to be cured, Chen Jiao had not asked further questions.

First, because of his trust in the helmsman.

Second, even if the helmsman were wrong, he did not want to spread word of the helmsman's mistake.

Su Kang said weakly: "According to the Compendium of Materia Medica, Artemisia annua should also be effective. It's just that for a thousand years, malaria has always been treated primarily with Dichroa root and Bupleurum..."

Chen Jiao's eyes flew wide open, and his voice turned hoarse as he demanded in a low tone: "Are you saying that in all this time on the island, you've never used Artemisia annua to treat the sick?"

Su Kang: "Naturally I tried it as well—put it in the Dichroa and Bupleurum decoction and boiled them together. The effect was minimal..."

"Then what about the juice-pressing method and the wine-soaking method the helmsman spoke of?"

"I haven't tried those yet. Things being what they are, I can only treat this as a last resort and give it a try." Su Kang coughed once as he spoke.

"Damn it! You quack—I'll cut you down!" Chen Jiao flew into a towering rage. With a screech he drew his wild-goose saber and made as if to strike.

Everyone on Nan'ao Island carried out the helmsman's words like imperial edicts. Chen Jiao truly had never imagined Su Kang could be so stubborn.

He had been run off his feet lately over malaria, the natives, land reclamation, and fort construction, and resentment had been building in his heart for a long time.

Add to that his long years in the military, where orders were obeyed without question—he deeply loathed Su Kang's style of disregarding commands and doing as he pleased.

Compared to that, the nine people who had died from delayed treatment were, in Chen Jiao's eyes, not such a great matter after all.

The people around them rushed to hold him back.

"Governor-General, calm your wrath! The island is already short of physicians—you cannot kill him!"

"Even if Physician Su can't cure malaria, he's still a master hand at treating wounds. If you kill him, what will the injured brothers do?"

"Governor-General, he's already got malaria anyway. Whether you kill him or not, he'll die sooner or later—why bother?"

Under the crowd's desperate obstruction, Chen Jiao said furiously: "Escort him to Chi-kan and have him pick Artemisia annua in the mountains!"

The physicians around him said they also recognized Artemisia annua and could pick it themselves—bringing a sick man up the mountain would be too inconvenient.

Only then did Chen Jiao drop the matter, and he commanded in a loud voice: "From this day forth, all physicians shall prepare medicine according to the helmsman's juice-pressing method and wine-soaking method! Anyone who dares defy in the slightest—executed!"

With that, Chen Jiao strode away.

Under the Governor-General's iron command, fresh Artemisia annua arrived from Chi-kan within half a day.

In the isolation ward for the sick, Su Kang directed the other physicians to chop the Artemisia annua fine, preparing medicine by both the juice-pressing method and the wine-soaking method.

In his letter, Lin Qian had written out these two preparation methods as clearly and thoroughly as he could. But he was not a medical professional after all, and having watched the documentary too long ago to remember it precisely, there were bound to be omissions and ambiguities.

Most of the physicians on the island were only at the apprentice level. Without Su Kang's guidance, these men would not dare to prepare the medicine on their own.

Several hours later, two large basins of Artemisia annua medicinal juice were ready. Gazing at the green, grassy-smelling liquid, the physicians exchanged uncertain looks, all wearing expressions of doubt.

Su Kang had someone bring a bowl, ladled out a bowl from the medicinal juice made by the pressing method, tipped his head back and drank it down, then ladled out another bowl from the artemisia medicinal wine.

The physicians around him all urged him to wait until the first bowl took effect before drinking the second.

Su Kang had already resolved to test the medicine on his own body, so how could he agree? After all, there were dozens of people currently stricken with malaria—every moment he delayed might mean one more death.

In the time he had been on East Fan Island, nine people had already died of malaria.

Su Kang's heart burned with anxiety.

If this artemisia juice proved ineffective, then so be it.

But if it worked...

Then he, Su Kang, even if he had to bear the name of a quack doctor, would still spread this artemisia remedy far and wide—and afterward, personally go and apologize to the families of the dead!

(End of chapter)

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen