Chapter 324: Study Class for Pregnant Women

After formulating his response plan, Dong Qiang left Master Bai and the other two transmigrator doctors to hold the fort. He himself wolfed down lunch, hurriedly wrote a draft, and headed straight to the Pharmaceutical Factory as soon as the afternoon work began.

Like all the other Type 28 laboratories, the Pharmaceutical Factory consisted of several courtyard-style two-story building clusters enclosed by walls.

It was located in hilly terrain, not far from the Chemical Plant and upwind of it. The proximity was because the Pharmaceutical Factory had no independent power equipment and needed to run power lines from nearby; additionally, some raw materials produced by the Chemical Plant could be delivered conveniently next door.

The upwind location was out of fear of accidents at the Chemical Plant. Due to a severe shortage of management personnel, there wasn't a single factory in Hua Yao District that hadn't had an accident. Just like those industrial cities of later generations, the price of development was death and the disabled: Chikan First Hospital had to treat work-related injuries almost every day, and the proportion of disabled people had been slowly but steadily rising.

Moreover, this upwind setup had genuinely proven its worth: in the half-year since the Chemical Plant was established, it had already exploded several times, big and small, and once even unleashed its ultimate move, the Poison Cloud Technique — all of which the Pharmaceutical Factory narrowly escaped.

The director of the Pharmaceutical Factory was called Wei Jiaren.

No one knew what his name was before he crossed over; apparently this guy brought his fake name straight to the new time-space, as if the cops were going to cross time-space to catch him.

Before crossing over, this man worked in a pharmaceutical factory lab. Later, pressured by his future mother-in-law to buy a house and a car, he took a desperate risk, using factory raw materials to synthesize some fentanyl and shipping it via express delivery across the ocean.

Later, after fentanyl was listed as a controlled substance by the state, this guy instead got addicted to making drugs. Like Master Bai, he let himself go completely, ditched the girlfriend, and ran off to Mexico intending to build a drug empire... and then he crossed over.

After crossing over, Wei Jiaren discovered: the world had turned upside down.

He could synthesize any chemical, anytime, anywhere, and no one would come to arrest him. Yet he had neither raw materials nor money to be made — he was already the big boss of Imperial Pharmaceuticals, and in the future, just producing Viagra would make him the richest man on the planet. It was deeply ironic.

The Pharmaceutical Factory was the place Dong Qiang visited most often besides the Hospital, because it produced not only medicines but also consumables like bandages.

The biggest worry right now was these consumables. Durable instruments, as long as they weren't too bulky, were actually easier to handle: ten thousand medical needles didn't take up even two cubic meters; they could be imported directly in one go. Normally, nurses would just grab a few, soak them in medical alcohol, and reuse them — that was how early hospitals all operated.

So now, the production of consumables like medical alcohol had actually become a major issue.

After arriving at the Pharmaceutical Factory, Dong Qiang, as was his custom, first made a round outside the windows to look at the equipment production lines: the rooms inside were all sterile, and changing clothes was too much trouble.

This courtyard complex housed several production lines where workers were responsible for producing consumables like bandages and sterile cotton balls.

After a cursory tour, Wei Jiaren, who had come over upon hearing the news, dropped a bombshell on Dong Qiang: his specialty, fentanyl citrate from the fentanyl family, had been successfully synthesized in the new time-space!

"Really!? Haha, that's fantastic news!" Dong Qiang was overjoyed at the news.

Fentanyl, this stuff — if not for those addicts in America ruining its reputation through abuse — is actually an excellent medical analgesic and anesthetic. This chemical's analgesic efficiency is eighty times higher than morphine, with a rapid onset and fewer side effects.

The medical system had long been eager for the domestic production of morphine or fentanyl. However, morphine required the precursor material "opium poppy." Considering certain unsettling issues, the Great Office had not approved the plan to cultivate opium poppies on "native soil" back then.

As a result, they could only rely on Europeans importing opium from those South Asian countries to produce morphine. This channel was highly unstable and the quantities were small, so Dong Qiang was very dissatisfied.

So what was the solution for the lack of analgesics? Grit your teeth and bear it! It was impossible for the Hospital to import large quantities of analgesics to expend on countless patients.

Fortunately, this was the 17th century, and people of this era had absolutely no concept of anesthetics. So when getting stitches, they endured it; when getting dental fillings, they endured it; even during amputations, the Hospital often just tied the patient down.

Yes, it was that crude. The delicate comrades of later generations would probably faint from fright at such a scene, yet before humanity invented the first anesthetic, chloroform, in the 19th century, this was how people endured it for thousands of years...

At this moment, Dong Qiang lifted his head and gazed upward blissfully. Recently, with the General Assembly approaching, the pressure transmitted from all sides and the issue of fetal weight had kept him in a consistently poor mood.

Now, everything was fine — Wei Jiaren had actually synthesized fentanyl!

Grabbing Wei Jiaren by both shoulders, Dong Qiang asked excitedly: "Can it be produced continuously? What's the output?"

Wei Jiaren nodded: "That depends on whether the Chemical Plant can continuously supply the raw materials. As long as the materials keep coming, output on my end isn't a problem. At the very least, major surgeries like childbirth and amputations can be supplied in sufficient quantities."

Dong Qiang burst out laughing: the pain levels of surgeries were graded. For a clinical act like childbirth that generates level-ten acute pain, if they had enough analgesics — even if it couldn't reach the "painless childbirth" standard of later generations — as long as it could reduce the pain by half, that would be an incredible advancement.

"Good, good! We really have to count on you comrades from the drug world — saving countless lives!" Dong Qiang sighed with heartfelt admiration.

"Get lost!" Wei Jiaren cursed with a laugh.

Dong Qiang left the Pharmaceutical Factory in high spirits.

The feeling of watching the cause he had fought for grow stronger bit by bit was truly quite satisfying: the domestic production of analgesics had further reduced the medical system's import quota, giving him a little more initiative in the General Assembly.

After leaving the Pharmaceutical Factory, Dong Qiang went nonstop to Chikan Avenue. In a building next to the Township Government, he handed the draft he had written to a refined-looking man before him.

Yang Lei, before crossing over, had done propaganda work at a community neighborhood committee, skilled in photography and all kinds of routine propaganda.

After crossing over, he first drifted among various departments for a while, single-mindedly wanting to be a Conqueror. This guy initially planned to start a media outlet, but back then everyone was busy staying hidden, so media was naturally useless.

After that, once the troops had come to Taiwan and gained a firm foothold, Yang Lei, who was helping out at the pig farm and cattle farm, got ideas again... but things still weren't that simple. To run a media outlet, you'd at least need paper, ink, and printing machines, right?

The things he wanted were not urgently needed items in their respective systems; there was always something more important ahead in line. So Yang Lei could only continue to lie low in resentment... until not long ago, when the big shots held the preparatory enthronement meeting and, considering the necessity of establishing a propaganda mouthpiece, finally allocated a newspaper budget to Yang Lei.

After a long wait, the clouds parted and the moon shone bright — at last, this Yang fellow had his moment to swagger.

The Kiln District, following instructions, first cobbled together several letterpress hand-cranked printing presses, while simultaneously importing a batch of plate-making equipment and lead type. As for ink, it was even simpler: with gasoline from Miaoli as a solvent, simple black ink was very easy to manufacture.

Finally, there was paper. This could be low-cost and inexhaustible... they lacked everything here, except bamboo and timber.

As the equipment arrived, Yang Lei also rounded up a bunch of bankrupt types from among the immigrants — bookstore shopkeepers, assistants, and the like — and thus the "Taijiang Newspaper Agency" was established.

Since it was called the "Taijiang Newspaper Agency," the newspaper it published was naturally the Taijiang Post. This was the Empire's first newspaper specifically aimed at the general public, and the inscription for its inaugural issue was personally written by Xia Lao Zhongtang.

The inaugural issue of the Taijiang Post had only four pages. Since it was aimed at the public and would soon circulate across the sea, the newspaper contained little political content.

The primary function of this newspaper was, naturally, to extol the happy life of the new society, in order to attract more Great Ming immigrants to settle here.

The newspaper's second function was to publish commercial information. Using the telegraph system, which far surpassed the era, the newspaper agency could promptly compile commercial and shipping information spanning from Jiangnan to Xiamen, and then to Dayuan, and then filter and publish this information.

The third function was "transforming customs and traditions." This included selected cultural content from later generations, which would shoulder the duty of "subtly influencing, transforming customs, and shifting mindsets."

Since its launch, the Taijiang Post had been warmly and enthusiastically welcomed by the people on both sides of the strait, especially the merchant class. In this era, no group valued the speed of information dissemination more than merchants.

So when Dong Qiang arrived at the newspaper agency, Director Yang "Conqueror" Lei, his hair slicked back in a shiny pompadour and his face glowing with health, was behind his large plank desk, directing his subordinates and lecturing grandly.

Seeing Dong Qiang enter, Director Yang hadn't swelled into a complete fool after all; he quickly waved his underlings away and got up to receive his guest.

"Here's the draft. See if you can polish it up a bit, best to make it a series," after exchanging a few pleasantries, Dong Qiang tossed the draft he had written onto the desk.

Yang Lei picked up the draft, read it, and then laughed: " 'Properly Arrange Your Diet,' complete with recipes... isn't this just those common health advertorials we used to see?"

"It is, and it isn't." Dong Qiang said with a serious expression: "Women in this era all have to give birth to several children. If pregnancy nutrition isn't properly arranged and the first delivery ends in a C-section, what about the second, third, and fourth? C-sections were originally only meant for emergencies; they can't be normalized. It brings a hundred harms and not a single benefit."

"I understand, I understand." Yang Lei's attitude also became earnest at this: "Back in my neighborhood days, I promoted breastfeeding and natural birth, all that stuff."

"Mm, how about this: I'll rewrite your draft into a hardcore science communication format, and then make it a series, give it a proper promotional push."

"That would be best. My writing skills are no good; as long as you grasp the key points, that's fine!"

At this, Dong Qiang stood up, extended his hand, and shook Conqueror's: "When your series of articles is published, remember to give me a bound collection. I want to show it to those people in the Chikan Government, have them organize study classes for pregnant women in the district... you know, many families are illiterate and don't usually read newspapers."

"Understood, understood!" Yang Lei smiled as he saw Dong Qiang out: "Some things just have to be arranged down to the grassroots level, otherwise the results aren't good. Ah... this kind of thing is what I'm best at. Back in the day..."