Chapter 397: The Doctor

"So this is the prefectural city?"

Wang Dashan craned his neck to look at the bustling dock ahead. Though born and raised in Anqing, this was his first time visiting the prefectural city of Anqing.

Three scout boats from the Anqing Water Camp were on the river, heading midstream to inspect vessels that did not dock. From Jiujiang to Anqing, they had encountered the Water Camp once on the river at Wangjiang County, where soldiers had boarded the boat. As expected, they only checked the cargo in the hold, barely glancing at the passengers. Now, approaching the prefectural city, there was another patrol — still claiming to be hunting bandits on the Qingjiang. Since the passenger boat was docking at the Sheng-Tang ferry, they did not board.

Many grain transport ships were moored at the dock, with boats constantly arriving and departing. Porters bustled everywhere, carrying grain sacks and all manner of bamboo and timber — the whole place was a din of noise.

Their boat was not loading or unloading cargo, so the boat owner found a spot for disembarking passengers. Wang Dashan reached the deck and saw Water Camp soldiers and brokers manning a checkpoint at the steps. Xiao Wazi said to Wang Dashan in a low voice, "Don't panic. Say exactly what Master Yu told us to say."

Wang Dashan nodded. Though still somewhat nervous, he was nothing like before, when he would tremble too much to speak. He followed the people ahead and disembarked.

Several men wielding clubs were shouting nearby. Wang Dashan had seen their kind at the Jiujiang dock — they were called the Canal Gang.

To Wang Dashan's surprise, those men did not question them at all. A few men seeking to enlist walked right up to the checkpoint and said, "We've come from Wuchang to join the army in Anqing. Could the masters kindly tell us — is the Anqing Battalion still recruiting?"

One of the brokers pointed west and said, "Those joining the army, go west. Too many recruits — they were disrupting business at the dock, so it's all been moved to the West Gate."

Wang Dashan and his group followed behind the crowd and made it onto the dock without trouble. Ahead stood Anqing's Sheng-Tang Gate. Wang Dashan could not read, but he knew this was the prefectural city.

People were everywhere. Wang Dashan had no idea which way to go and hurriedly stopped. Xiao Wazi and Second Locust stood by the roadside, observing the city gate for a moment. There were government troops atop the wall, and at the gate entrance, yamen runners and Canal Gang members were questioning those entering the city, checking each person's palms. At that moment, they were pulling open a traveler's clothes, seemingly inspecting his shoulders.

One of the Canal Gang men shouted, "Untie your topknot."

The man being checked was terrified. He fumbled to undo his topknot. The runners and Canal Gang members came over, grabbed his hair, and examined it closely. Wang Dashan's heart tightened — he knew they were checking the previous style of the topknot. Westerners commonly wore the three-piled topknot or short topknot. If it had been changed recently, the crease patterns in the hair would give it away.

Master Yu had long prepared for this. When they left Gucheng, he had already made everyone change their topknots and had them sprinkle water on their hair every day to erase the creases. Whether it could fool that man, he did not know.

After checking for a moment and apparently finding nothing suspicious, the Canal Gang man then told the person to roll up his trouser legs — they wanted to inspect his thighs.

Xiao Wazi and Second Locust exchanged a glance. This kind of inspection was mainly to see if someone rode horses often. The old bandits among the roving bandits mostly no longer did manual labor, but they spent a great deal of time gripping reins. Most would have thick calluses on their palms, yet no recent chafing marks or scars on their shoulders. If their thighs also showed signs of riding, they were highly suspect as roving bandits — and here by the river, there would be nowhere to run.

Both had served as spies many times and had seen many cities. This method was simple but very hard to counter. The first step was accent — a non-local accent would trigger questioning. Both of them had northern accents and would certainly be prime targets for interrogation. No matter what trade they claimed, it would be difficult to match all the physical traits.

Second Locust glanced back and saw Master Yu signal with his eyes, then start walking west. He knew Master Yu also realized it would not be easy to enter the city and that they could only slowly figure out a way. The few of them immediately followed at a distance, all heading toward the area west of the city.

Wang Dashan glanced back from time to time. That woman who was nominally his wife still wore her bamboo hat, following behind in silence.

Water Camp soldiers passed by on the dock from time to time, wearing white jackets and marching in neat formation, chanting work songs. The passersby were long accustomed to it and simply made way.

Walking west along the riverbank, this stretch of street lay outside the city, but it was bustling the entire way. The terrain, however, was cramped. Wang Dashan looked up at the city wall — there were no soldiers guarding it, only a few men at the corners where triangular flags hung.

Wang Dashan had never seen the prefectural city in normal times and did not know if it had always been like this, but it felt as though there was no intention of defense at all.

At last they passed the southwest corner of the city wall. The space ahead suddenly opened up. After turning onto the street heading north, food stalls and inns multiplied along both sides of the road.

Master Yu was still walking ahead, seemingly not planning to find lodgings right away — probably wanting to survey the surrounding terrain. Wang Dashan and the others could only continue following at a distance.

When they reached the area outside the western city gate, the soldiers on the wall grew numerous again. The soldiers marching in the street had changed to short red jackets. Having stayed at Mianyang Port, Wang Dashan now knew that those were Anqing's Land Battalion, while the ones in white jackets were the Water Camp. According to what Master Yu had said, Anqing should be very empty, but Wang Dashan felt there were soldiers everywhere — and they were still recruiting. He had no idea how many battalions Anqing actually had.

At the gate, a Land Battalion team happened to be marching out from the city, heading northwest. Pedestrians moved to the roadside. The shops along the street carried on with their business, and after the soldiers passed, the street returned to normal.

"How come these shopkeepers aren't afraid of soldiers?"

Wang Dashan heard Second Locust talking to Xiao Wazi. Xiao Wazi turned his head to reply, speaking very quietly — Wang Dashan could not make it out. The woman behind him ignored him too, so he had to stand by the street and look around. He saw a large gate across the street, where there were also red-jacketed Land Battalion soldiers — one on each side of the gate. A long line of people stretched out in front, all carrying bundles on their backs. They looked like they had come from out of town.

Just then, Xiao Wazi finished speaking. Wang Dashan, trying to ingratiate himself, said to him in a low voice, "Young master, there's a yamen over there — probably recruiting soldiers and horses."

Before Xiao Wazi could answer, Master Yu walked over and said, "It's recruiting doctors. The plaque says Military Medical Hall. There are many battalions nearby — we can't linger here. Go north."

He finished speaking and continued north. Wang Dashan turned his head to look at the plaque and muttered to himself, "The battalions are recruiting doctors to treat the sick?"

……

"When wounded by blade or spear and the bleeding will not stop, how should it be treated?"

"Take one hundred strands of hair from an infant less than a month old, burn them completely to ash. Then take three fingernail clippings from a three-year-old child, grind them to powder with a stone, and mix evenly with the ash…"

"Stop."

In the rear hall of the Military Medical Hall knelt a doctor who had come to apply. Wu Dacai sat high in the seat of honor. He stopped the doctor, then turned his head and asked his deputy in a low voice, "Did that last fellow say the same thing?"

"More or less. He got an earful from Sir Pang, who called it mystification."

Wu Dacai grunted in acknowledgment. He straightened up and said, "Throw him out. Next."

"This humble one has other prescriptions! My lord, which one would you like to hear? You can also apply willow catkins to it — my lord, please listen…"

The doctor was hauled out by the guards, shouting the whole way. Wu Dacai's face was clouded with displeasure. He had intended to run this Military Medical Hall properly and also wanted to save Sir Pang money, but when the budget was submitted to Sir Pang, it came back with the comment "Do it properly and seriously," along with a remark that he had planned it on too small a scale. But the south had been at peace for many years — doctors specializing in military trauma medicine were extremely hard to find. Sir Pang himself had conducted interviews before and found few suitable candidates. This time, having been criticized, Wu Dacai had to come to the Military Medical Hall in person, hoping to recruit more doctors so they could expand its scale.

Another doctor walked in. Wu Dacai steadied his emotions and this time changed the question. "After a great battle, some men often cry out in terror in the camp, disturbing the encampment. What medicine should be given to such soldiers and officers?"

"Take a length of pig-binding rope, burn it to ash. Take one ge of rootless water, boil them together, and administer. Three doses will surely be effective. Additionally…"

"How do you treat bleeding from a metal wound?"

The doctor said with full confidence, "Apply spider web to it, and the blood will stop at once."

"Throw him out. Next."

Yet another doctor walked in, still carrying his own medicine-peddling banner. Wu Dacai looked him up and down, then asked, "How do you treat unstoppable bleeding from a metal wound?"

The doctor calmly switched his banner to the other hand, stroked his beard, and said, "The method to stop bleeding from a metal wound is this humble one's secret, not passed on to others. But since Your Excellency asks, this humble one has decided to offer up this prescription."

Wu Dacai sat up slightly. "Please, sir, speak."

"For unstoppable bleeding from a metal wound, drink five sheng of human urine and it will stop instantly."

"Screw your old mother!" Wu Dacai exploded in sudden rage. He grabbed the teacup from the table and hurled it. The doctor scrambled and crawled out the door.

"My lord, calm down, calm down."

"Five sheng — he'd be bloated to death! Of course the blood would stop then! How did those people before even conduct the questioning?"

Wu Dacai's lingering fury had not subsided; adrenaline surged through him, and his face flushed bright red. If not for his bad leg, he would have given that doctor a sound thrashing.

The clerk who had come along hurriedly brought fresh tea. "My lord, perhaps you should rest a moment. There's no need to rush."

Wu Dacai loosened his collar a little, took a few breaths, and said, "Sir Pang himself said to do it properly — how can there be no rush? Keep calling them in. This official refuses to believe there isn't a single usable doctor."

The clerk waved at the guards, signaling for the next one to enter. The door leaf creaked open. A foot shod in a delicate, elegant bow shoe stepped across the threshold. Wu Dacai froze. His gaze traveled upward and saw a plain gray cloth skirt — it was a woman, around twenty years old.

The woman was plainly dressed, her hair simply done up in a topknot, almost like a Daoist nun. Her face was covered with the dust of travel, yet one could still faintly discern fine, clear features. Facing the several men in the hall, her expression remained perfectly composed.

Wu Dacai coughed once, using the sound to sit up a little straighter. He softened his tone and said, "How should I address you, miss? Are you here to apply for military trauma medicine? You haven't made a mistake, have you?"

The woman calmly performed a respectful curtsy and said, "This common woman, Shen Honeymoon, greets Your Excellency. I am indeed applying for military trauma medicine. There is no mistake."

"Ah… Then this official shall ask you: when a metal wound bleeds without stopping, how should it be treated?"

Shen Honeymoon raised her head slightly and looked at Wu Dacai. "In reply to Your Excellency, 'metal wounds' is the term for injuries caused by metal implements, most commonly swords and spears. A sword slash or spear thrust injures different parts of the body, and the treatment methods are each different — it is not simply a matter of stopping the bleeding. May I ask which type of metal wound Your Excellency wishes to inquire about?"

Wu Dacai thought for a moment and said, "If the throat is cut by a sword, can it be saved?"

"The throat has two pipes: the windpipe lies outside, the food pipe inside. When the throat is cut, if the assailant held the sword in the right hand it is easier to treat; if held in the left hand, it is difficult to treat. If the food pipe is severed, it cannot be treated. If the windpipe is severed, first apply numbing powder and finely ground raw pinellia, then use the downy under-feathers from a cormorant's tail, supplemented with ginseng, as a sealing dressing. Then use white mulberry bark thread to suture the skin — first rub numbing powder onto the skin, then stitch with the thread, and finally apply Dragon's Blood Paste externally…"

The clerk leaned close to Wu Dacai's ear and whispered, "Numbing powder — Lord Pang has mentioned numbing powder before."

Wu Dacai leaned forward, both hands braced on the desk. "Shen Dafu, the powders, the paste, and the thread you just mentioned — can you make all of them?"

"The paste, powders, and thread I can all make. Only the cormorant down is not easy to obtain; in urgent cases, cogongrass flower can substitute."

"Mm, very good. Shen Dafu just spoke of a sword wound to the throat. If it were a spear thrust to the chest or abdomen, how should that be treated?"

Shen Honeymoon replied, still in a calm tone, "A spear thrust wound is more severe than a sword slash. Physicians often say that wounds to the hands and feet can be treated, while wounds to the trunk cannot — this is in fact an error. For a spear thrust, first examine whether the wound is at a fatal spot. Even if it is a fatal spot, if the wound is not deep there is no danger. If the wound is in the abdomen, one must probe its depth, for if it is deep and has injured the internal organs, it is difficult to treat — even stopping the bleeding is useless. If the wound track is straight, first apply Hemostasis Powder. If the wound is deep, probe it with cotton, then pack the powder dry into the opening. Once the blood flow ceases, secure it with Tissue-Regenerating Powder, and administer Wind-Protecting Internal-Support Powder internally, and it will heal. If the abdomen is torn open and the intestines exposed, if the small intestine is uninjured it can still be treated. The first priority is to return the intestines. First apply sesame oil to the intestines; once they are lubricated, spray cold water onto the person's face — the shock will cause the intestines to retract on their own. Once retracted, immediately press and hold the intestinal opening, then suture using the method described above."

"Then what if the small intestine is injured — what should be done?"

"If the small intestine is injured, it cannot be treated." The young woman paused briefly. "Treating it would only add to the wounded man's suffering. And it is a great agony, a great torment. Your Excellency leads soldiers — you should know what is best."

Having finished her answer, Shen Honeymoon stood composedly in the hall, showing no discomfort. Wu Dacai could not think of what to ask for a moment. After a brief daze, he said, "Then what if a leg bone is broken and swells immediately — how should that be treated?"

Shen Honeymoon's gaze swept over the crutch beside the desk. Wu Dacai unconsciously drew his foot back. The young woman then lowered her head slightly and said, "For ordinary injuries to the hands and feet, when a bone protrudes there are always two shinbones. If one shinbone is broken, it can be treated. If the swelling is hard and it is difficult to discern whether the bone inside the flesh is shattered or not, one should use the hand to squeeze the swollen bone area. If there is a sound within, first administer numbing powder orally, then cut open to let the blood out, apply hemostatic herbs, then use numbing powder to numb the flesh, remove the shattered bone fragments, and use another bone to join them properly…"

Although Shen Honeymoon had spoken for a long while, her voice remained calm and gentle. Though her clothing was plain and frugal, as she stood in the hall speaking eloquently, she possessed a distinct radiance. Wu Dacai, both hands braced on the desk, did not move until the young woman had finished speaking.

The clerk again spoke by his ear: "My lord, this woman has mentioned numbing powder many times. Lord Pang's opinion is that anyone who mentions numbing powder must be retained for service."

Wu Dacai waved his hand to indicate he understood, then looked at the young woman again and said, "This official has one more question. Shen Dafu is a woman. Military trauma medicine is applied on the battlefield — wounds can occur anywhere. There is, after all, the distinction between men and women, which will inevitably cause inconvenience at times. Can Shen Dafu truly provide treatment?"

Shen Honeymoon raised her head again and looked at Wu Dacai. "In reply to Your Excellency's awareness: ordinary people do not understand the pain of illness, yet the wounds of soldiers far surpass those of sickness. The agony within cannot be expressed in words, and many more cannot be treated at all — they can only die amidst great agony and great torment. This is precisely the most grievous matter in the world. At the juncture of life and death, the distinction between man and woman is but a minor detail. The physician's heart is that of a parent; the wounded are like infants. In this humble woman's eyes, there is only the wounded and suffering body — there is no inconvenience whatsoever."