Chapter 38: The Legendary Figure

Kraft experienced the busiest month of his life.

His former life of teaching one lecture in the morning and writing two pages in the afternoon underwent a violent, unstoppable shift, spiraling out of control.

First and foremost, his daily lecture load jumped overnight from one to two: one on Human Anatomy, and another on General Surgery preparing for operations—both attended by other lecturers.

This change triggered a cascade of domino effects.

He had to carve out part of his former anatomy review time to desperately devise ways to simplify surgical content into something he could teach.

The first major hurdle was asepsis—he needed to carefully consider how to explain it.

The most direct approach was: "I believe invisible, microscopic organisms exist all around us," a simple, effective summary of the concept of microbes.

This raised another problem: after explaining it, he had to prove his claim, requiring a microscope.

High-quality glass had only just become available in Dunling; the most feasible solution now was to buy two clear natural crystals and have someone polish and assemble them—no one knew if it would even work. No hope in the short term.

As for instruments, he also needed a setup to perform distillation and obtain purer, concentrated alcohol for skin disinfection.

The myriad demands stemming from a single simple surgery left him physically and mentally exhausted; most could not be addressed between teaching and preparation.

This was still just college matters—worse, he discovered he had become part of the medical college's outrageous rumors and, in some sense, temporarily lost the permanent meal ticket he'd just gained and barely enjoyed.

Three days after completing the surgery, as soon as he stepped into the tavern, he was warmly greeted by Griss.

The man loudly hailed Kraft, announcing to the entire room that this outstanding doctor had saved his daughter's life, and declared that all drinks in the house were free to celebrate.

Those from other colleges had merely heard rumors of a medical college lecturer daring to open living bodies for treatment; now everyone knew what he looked like—the blond young medical college lecturer was Kraft.

Kraft's golden hair, identical to Ryan's, was especially distinctive, and combined with his youth, word spread quickly across colleges; every time he entered a tavern, students from other colleges recognized him.

These curious students stared at him as if he were a miraculous beast; the bolder ones would approach his table and ask strange questions.

After several lunches like this, Kraft could no longer endure the atmosphere—he began changing out of his black robe daily and ate at taverns farther from the college.

He soon realized that in this era of scarce entertainment, a slightly shocking sensational rumor spread countless times faster than he imagined, especially when a tavern owner vouched for it.

This month alone, he had heard at least seven versions of the story in five different taverns—not one matched reality.

The least fantastical version claimed Kraft came from an ancient family that had studied medicine even before the Kingdom of Nos existed. He thought his grandfather wouldn't like this rumor.

The most absurd claimed Kraft had made a pact with the devil to devise such terrifying treatments. Kraft listened as the drunken drunkard shouted this, and as he left, he kicked out the stool beneath the man's buttocks.

These rumors were exhausting in every way, but fame did bring one benefit—he now had patients coming to him.

Half a month had passed since Lis's observation period began, and Lu Xiusi had reached one month. After repeated "No Abnormality" entries in daily checks, Kraft's confidence grew daily.

Thanks to his rising reputation, someone actually came to the college seeking help. Most cases of indigestion went to Luo Moluo; Kraft selected three cases he needed.

His original plan was to extend the observation period by another half month, but patients had now arrived, and diagnoses were complete.

Under the pressure of "not saving equals death," Kraft performed three more surgeries, further improving conditions: replacing surgical materials with finer cotton cloth, and having everyone on and off the table wear boiled linen caps, masks, and gowns.

Under these conditions, he allowed a few non-surgical personnel to enter the operating area for observation.

He didn't want to use finer, denser fabric—he was limited by cost. Wendeng Port lay far north; the climate was not just barely unsuitable for cotton cultivation—it was utterly irrelevant.

All cotton products arrived by sea; even as surgical supplies, costs were already far from optimistic.

Unfortunately, despite every precaution under limited conditions, one case still developed surgical incision infection—luckily, it did not spread further into the abdominal cavity; post-event speculation pointed to lack of proper wound disinfectant or contamination during dressing changes.

This incident sounded an alarm for Kraft—he wrote operational guidelines overnight and posted them on the wall, forbidding anyone who hadn't memorized them from touching patients. The alcohol distillation problem was now officially on the agenda.

Li Si was optimistic about the current situation and suggested extending these protocols and "Chengming" to amputation surgeries—he had named the diluted solution.

"Chengming"—the name sounded decent, Li Si said, because he felt the solution was as clear as water, miraculous, hence the name.

Kraft and Lu Xiusi felt guilty but didn't tell him it was almost entirely water; they accepted the name. Publicly, it was declared a new drug developed by the medical college—the family-secret-medicine claim was abandoned.

Amputation surgery was Li Si's specialty; he ran his own clinic outside the college, with decent business. In a port town, people inevitably injured themselves during dangerous tasks, and to save money, they'd hastily treat wounds and return to work.

Frequent exposure to seawater, severe bacterial infection, unknown powders caked onto wounds—these rapidly deteriorated to the point requiring swift amputation, so he never lacked patients.

But as a lecturer specializing in anatomy, his vast knowledge rarely found application amid patients' screams—he could only act within minutes. "Chengming" gave him hope.

After repeatedly failing to persuade Kraft, Li Si lured him to his clinic under the pretext that "new surgical methods in amputation required guidance," observed several amputations, and successfully obtained permission to use Chengming.

Kraft strictly limited his dosage, permitting use only in severe amputations after careful evaluation, requiring detailed patient records, scheduled follow-ups, and home visits for those who didn't return. Lu Xiusi would inspect his written reports.

But the truth proved: if something isn't fully under your control, it will inevitably develop in unexpected ways.

Within half a month, Li Si's clinic had used up nearly half a cup of the diluted solution he'd been given; when he came to ask for more, Lu Xiusi brought twenty-three patient records.

Indeed, all were severe cases—milder ones had already rotted several fingers, described as "blackened, foul-smelling, numb." Kraft couldn't possibly accuse these extensive amputations as misuse of Chengming.

This number was far higher than he'd expected.

But this stack of papers was far thinner than he'd expected.

Kraft quickly flipped through them and found only twelve had five-day follow-up records, and of those, only three had ten-day follow-ups.

Of the remaining eleven, home visits located two; the rest—no specific information at all, and even their survival status after five days was unknown.

Kraft wasn't angry—he was too exhausted to be angry. Being a legendary figure wasn't easy; every day now, beyond doubled teaching and writing duties, he had to receive patients seeking help, many of whom arrived with absurd demands fueled by absurd rumors.

"Lecturer Li Si, I need an explanation," Kraft said, lifting his head from the pile of papers, weary, staring at the two men standing awkwardly before him.

This demeanor made Li Si, who expected a scolding, even more uneasy. If Kraft had yelled at him, he might have felt better—but Kraft's exhaustion made him feel more guilty than ever.

The kind-hearted Lu Xiusi stepped forward to explain the issue.

"It's like this—we've never had experience like this before. We assumed follow-ups would be like those for intussusception surgery, where parents always bring children back, or addresses are as easy to find as Lis's." He glanced cautiously at Kraft, whose hand was turning the next page of the file.

"And then?" Kraft nodded, signaling him to continue.

"At first, we performed several amputations—on dockworkers and sailors—and told them to return in five days for free follow-ups."

"Yes, that's right."

"But only one sailor and one dockworker returned. When we went to the port to find the sailors, we found a problem." Seeing Kraft wasn't angry, Lu Xiusi spoke more fluently, "Most ships don't stay here long enough, so…"

The reason was valid—Kraft had assumed too much. He admitted fault immediately: "Sorry, my mistake. This follow-up period is still too long."

"But not this few, right?"

"Well, here's the thing," Li Si continued after Lu Xiusi, "Later, we improved—we asked for detailed addresses very carefully, and they gave them to us."

"So why are there only two home visits?" Kraft gave up thinking, waiting for his explanation.

"There are two aspects to this problem. A portion of the hired laborers actually have no stable residence; they stay temporarily where they find temporary work and leave once the job is done. We went five days later and couldn't find them."

"The other type has families and fixed residences, but the places they live are quite different from the streets we usually visit." Li Sidun admitted his failure very dejectedly. "I don't know if you have ever been to the Salt Tide District. It's like that filthy, chaotic place. They themselves may not even be clear about whether their description of the location is correct. Outsiders entering it are like walking through a maze."

"Their work is unstable, they have no spare money on hand, and asking them to spare a day for a re-examination..."

"Knock, knock, knock." A series of knocks interrupted Li Sidun's complaints.

"Is Lecturer Kraft here? Someone is looking for you."

"Alright, I'm coming." Kraft struggled to rise from his seat, guessing what kind of strange patient and family member it was this time.

"I will work on a new plan. If I have time, I can hand it over to you tomorrow."