Establishing a Medical School

The carriage bounced along the road, passing a steep cliff. The edge of the cliff was barren, with jagged and peculiar rocks scattered about. Wei Lan peeked out from between the curtains, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She thought to herself, “If we were to fall off this cliff, we’d probably be reduced to nothing.”

She estimated the time and leaned forward to ask Ming Yi, “How much longer until we arrive?”

“After we pass the Si Guo Cliff, we’ll take a turn around the mountain and we’ll be there,” Ming Yi said, flicking the whip without even turning around. The wheels rolled over the gravel, making a harsh sound, and Wei Lan quickly pulled her head back inside the carriage.

After bumping along for another half-hour, the carriage finally stopped in front of a house made of green bricks and tiles. Wei Lan helped Shun Xing get off, and they were greeted by an elderly man with white hair, leaning on a jujube wood cane. His hair was thin and sparse, like dry grass, and his face was covered in age spots. He swayed as he walked, looking as if he might fall over at any moment. Behind him was a strong and burly disciple named Zhou Dahu, who carried a bulging money pouch at his waist and had a sharp, calculating look in his eyes.

Doctor Lin’s bony fingers lightly pressed on Shun Xing’s leg a few times, then turned to Ming Yi with a smile, saying, “The bone is set well. Your skills have improved, my boy.”

While they were exchanging pleasantries, Wei Lan’s attention was drawn to the inside of the house. Inside, there were five or six patients lying on the beds. One robust man was moving his hand back and forth excitedly, after the splints were removed.

Wei Lan stepped forward and asked, “How long have you been treating here?”

“Exactly thirty days,” the man grinned, his fingers nimble as he gestured, “When I first came, I couldn’t move my hand, but now I can chop firewood just like before!” He said, waving his hand energetically.

Wei Lan felt a bit reassured and was about to ask more questions when Zhou Dahu walked out with a basin of dark, mud-like ointment. He walked over to a patient and began applying the medicine.

Wei Lan watched Zhou Dahu’s skilled movements with some unease, thinking to herself, Does this dark ointment really work?

At that moment, Ming Yi spoke beside her, “Let’s buy a full course of treatment.”

Doctor Lin glanced at Shun Xing’s leg, nodded slightly, and shakily got up to go into the inner room. The wooden door locked with a click, making Wei Lan’s heart jump. She looked suspiciously at Ming Yi, who gently shook his head, signaling her not to ask further questions.

About half an hour later, Doctor Lin came out from the inner room, holding several packets of medicine and a bowl of prepared ointment. He went to Shun Xing’s side, lifted the wooden board, and began applying the ointment to the swollen leg. The moment the ointment touched the skin, Shun Xing couldn’t help but hiss, “It’s so cool, but it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“We leave in two hours,” Doctor Lin said, his voice gravelly, like something was caught in his throat, “You must change this medicine at the hour of Chen every day, and it must not be exposed to light.”

Suddenly, Zhou Dahu interjected, “The consultation fee is an additional two coins of silver. Master’s secret formula isn’t cheap.”

Wei Lan’s hand was about to reach into her purse, but Ming Yi had already pulled out the silver and quickly paid the extra amount.

As they were about to leave, Wei Lan couldn’t help but glance back. She coincidentally caught Zhou Dahu stuffing the money pouch into his chest. Meanwhile, Doctor Lin, hunched over, was slowly tidying up the medicine grinder.

Standing outside the yard, Wei Lan lowered her voice to Ming Yi and asked, “What’s the formula for the ‘Er Ba Fang’? You’ve seen so many cases. Can it really regenerate shattered bones?”

Ming Yi furrowed his brow, his voice deep, “I’ve personally seen a woodsman’s leg crushed by falling rocks, the bones shattered into fragments. I thought there was no hope. But after using ‘Er Ba Fang’ and applying the ointment for two months, he was able to chop wood again. This formula is Doctor Lin’s greatest treasure, and no one else knows the full details.”

Wei Lan’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She leaned in closer, “You saw the herbs just now and even smelled them up close. You’re quite knowledgeable about herbs, can you distinguish what’s in it?”

“Bitter apricot kernels mixed with wine dregs, and there’s a smell of rust…” Ming Yi frowned as he recalled, “The ointment contains crushed plant stems, but they’ve all been steamed, so they no longer resemble their original form.”

“If only Jia Bao were here,” Wei Lan kicked a stone by her feet, “It has a keen nose and might be able to identify the formula.” Suddenly, she seemed to remember something and looked towards the medical hut, “That Zhou Dahu, he was secretly stuffing money into his chest earlier. Such behavior is truly despicable.”

Ming Yi sighed and said helplessly, “Doctor Lin lost his son many years ago, and his wife has passed as well. Now, only that disciple is left with him. Although the disciple has learned some basics, he doesn’t have Doctor Lin’s skill, nor does he have his medical ethics.”

Wei Lan thought for a moment and asked, “Has the formula been passed to the disciple?”

Ming Yi shook his head, “From what I can tell, no. Doctor Lin treasures the formula more than his own life. He doesn’t even allow his disciple into the medicine room. If the formula is buried with him, it might be lost forever.”

“This formula is so miraculous; it would be a pity if it were lost!” Wei Lan suddenly grew excited, “It’s just like Ma Fei San, which was known to exist a thousand years before Western anesthesia, but now only a few words remain in ancient books! If this continues, good formulas will be lost, and how will medicine develop in the future?”

Ming Yi listened, thinking for a while, and then nodded, “What you say makes a lot of sense. I’ve thought about the preservation of this formula, but I hadn’t considered it this deeply.”

Wei Lan continued, “As you said, this medicine must be used within twelve hours after the injury. But if someone is far away or if too much time has passed, isn’t it too late for them? If we could spread the formula and make it available to more people, think of how many lives we could save!”

Ming Yi looked at her with deep eyes and asked, “So, how do you plan to do it?”

Wei Lan’s eyes glimmered with determination. “I’ll find a way to get this formula. It’s my contribution to the field of medicine. Will you support me?”

Ming Yi smiled slightly and nodded, “Of course! If it’s for the good of all, I’ll fully support you.”

Wei Lan hesitated for a moment before a sly smile appeared on her face. “But I still have some doubts about the effectiveness of these herbs. Can a bone that’s been shattered into pieces really heal perfectly? I need to see Shun Xing’s leg fully healed with my own eyes before I’ll believe it.”

One Month Later.

The heat of Changsha City had faded, and autumn was in the air. The streets and alleys were filled with the scent of rice and the vitality of the city’s reconstruction. The pain caused by the floods was slowly healing, and the city was welcoming new changes.

As for Shun Xing, the leg that Doctor Lin had treated with the ‘Er Ba Fang’ was fully healed. A month later, he was already moving freely, though his agility was not what it once was. Every morning, he practiced in the medical hall’s backyard, starting with simple squats and jumps, moving on to more complex movements. Though not as nimble as before, his persistence had minimized the impact of his injury.

Wei Lan, seeing this, personally prepared a blood-activating and stasis-removing ointment for him and reminded him not to overtrain, to avoid reinjuring his leg.

As for the three big news stories in Changsha City:

The first was the official opening of the Huimin Medical School. It was located on Wenchang Street and, though not large, was very well-structured. Two buildings of green bricks and dark tiles were on either side, with a spacious courtyard filled with osmanthus trees in the middle. The main building had three floors with ten bright classrooms, while the side building contained a herb storage room and medical rooms for students to practice in. At the entrance, there was a plaque reading “Huimin Medical School.”

From the left building came the sound of students reading aloud. Twenty medical students who had passed the county exam were sitting in the classrooms, reciting the Huangdi Neijing in unison. In front of the right building, a crowd had gathered, mostly folk doctors hoping to secure teaching positions. Some were holding medical books, while others were showcasing their medical skills, eager to find a place in the new school.

Wei Lan and Ming Yi also received letters of invitation to teach at the Huimin Medical School. The letter specifically asked them to share their experiences of treating the injured during the floods, as well as innovative methods of garlic extract. Both agreed enthusiastically and began preparing their lecture materials. Ming Yi even drew several diagrams of human meridians to use in the class, aiming to explain medical knowledge more intuitively.

The second major news was the official release of a color-illustrated version of the Compendium of Materia Medica. The book was carefully designed by Weimin Medical Hall and used advanced plant specimen imprints, with clear color illustrations next to each medicinal herb, showing even the finest details. Toxic herbs were marked with a red cross for safety. The book caused a stir in the medical community and among herbal shops as soon as it was released.

The third major news was the bumper harvest of sweet potatoes. Since Wei Lan had tried planting them on the outskirts of the city 100 days ago, they had not attracted much attention, as rice was the main staple food in Changsha. However, when the harvest season came, everything quietly changed. The sweet potatoes’ high yield, drought resistance, and ease of cultivation quickly captured the city’s attention. This crop, once rare, had now become a staple food in the city.

The sweet potato harvest not only solved the food problem for many people but also spurred the development of related industries. Sweet potato flour, dried sweet potatoes, and other products began appearing on street corners, becoming popular foods. At the same time, sweet potato cultivation boosted the rural economy, with many farmers increasing their income through planting.

Now, the area planted with sweet potatoes in Changsha was steadily expanding, with output and varieties increasing. Through trade, it was spreading to surrounding regions.

Meanwhile, the city’s reconstruction had been completed, and the streets were bustling with activity once more.