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Baicaotang had three large storefronts that formed a spacious hall. In front of him stood several rows of dark red medicine cabinets, each filled with countless small drawers. Each drawer had a small wooden label with the name of the herb inscribed on it.
Ping’an inhaled the familiar scent of medicine, feeling an indescribable excitement. The feeling was incredible.
In his previous life, he had started studying medicine at twenty and retired at sixty. When the hospital offered him a high-paying contract to return, he refused. After a lifetime of hard work, he simply wanted to travel with his retiree wife.
At this moment, his son had graduated with a doctorate in medicine and was preparing to return to work in his home country.
What a pity.
“Doctor Sun, are you busy? I’ve brought some herbs,” Wan Changsheng said.
Doctor Sun smiled, “Changsheng, you’re here! Have you brought some good herbs this time? If not, just go to Dazhu and have him weigh them; we’ll go with the old prices.”
Wan Changsheng grinned, “I found several good Sanqi this time, all of good age. Please take a look, Doctor Sun.”
“Oh?” Doctor Sun stood up. Sanqi from the mountains, especially of good age, was rare in the medicine shop, and it worked much better than the ones cultivated in herbal farms.
Wan Changsheng carefully took out the Sanqi. “There are a total of seven plants, and their quality is excellent.”
Doctor Sun examined them and confirmed they were indeed five to six years old, with no signs of damage—clearly freshly dug.
“Definitely good. Here’s the deal, Changsheng: I’ll give you twelve taels for them, as two of the plants are a bit smaller.”
Wan Changsheng forced himself to hide his delight. “Doctor Sun, you can name your price.”
Doctor Sun nodded, “Dazhu, give him the other medicines at the previous price.”
Wan Changsheng took the herbs and walked over to Dazhu.
Ping’an observed that Doctor Sun was a good person and thought he might take the opportunity to see if he could borrow a copy of the “Baicao Collection.”
“Doctor Sun, do you have the ‘Baicao Collection’? Could I borrow it for a look?” Ping’an asked.
Doctor Sun, seeing that it was a child brought by Changsheng, decided to tease him since there weren’t many people around.
“Changsheng, who is this child of yours? Do you think he can read the ‘Baicao Collection’?”
Ping’an replied, “He’s my father. I can read it; my mother taught me some characters.”
She had indeed taught him a little, though not much, as she herself didn’t know many characters.
“Oh? Really? I thought Wan Changsheng wasn’t married?” Doctor Sun had been introduced to Wan Changsheng by another military doctor and had been buying herbs from him for a year and a half.
Ping’an lowered his gaze. “I’m Ping’an, his stepson. My biological father passed away five or six years ago, and I just arrived at his home a few days ago. I want to look at the ‘Baicao Collection’ myself so I won’t waste my father’s time teaching me.”
Doctor Sun looked at the small child, around six or seven years old, with fair skin and a delicate little face. His voice was youthful but clear.
He felt a pang in his heart: “Ping’an, your father is a good man. You’re lucky. Alright, I’ll let you see ten pages of the ‘Baicao Collection’ for fifteen minutes. If you can recognize more than half of it, I’ll lend you the whole book for two months. This is the complete ‘Baicao Collection’, not the kind you find in bookstores.”
Ping’an eagerly took the book from Doctor Sun. It was quite thick, similar to the books he had used to learn characters in his previous life. The pages were filled with clear illustrations of herbs, along with their names, uses, and more—two types per page.
The book was likely quite expensive and exquisitely crafted, though it couldn’t compare to modern color prints.
Ping’an sat down on a small stool and began to read. He recognized all the herbs and was very familiar with their properties and uses.
In this life, aside from his memories from his previous life, his greatest advantage was his incredible memory.
To be precise, it wasn’t an absolute photographic memory; it was more about retaining the good memories from his past. He could remember over fifty percent of what he read after just one look, seventy to eighty percent after two readings, and could generally recite it after three or four.
Thus, in his previous life, he had sailed through his studies and was a top student.
The past few years in this life had been quite miserable, and even filling his stomach was a struggle. His mother had little time to listen to him talk about these things, and even if she did, it wouldn’t help much.
Wan Changsheng received the silver from Dazhu: 12 taels for the Sanqi and six hundred wen for the other herbs—a good income.
He wrapped six taels in cloth, placing it at the bottom of the basket, covered with a piece of clothing.
He bought six hundred wen worth of fresh herbs, and the most his son have helped gathered was two hundred wen, so half of that was one hundred.
He believed in teaching his son to be honest and clear about his earnings from a young age. A person’s character was crucial.
He quietly slid ten wen to Dazhu without being noticed and then picked up the basket to walk back to his son.
Doctor Sun discreetly waved his hand, signaling him to stay put for now.
“Doctor Sun, I’ve memorized ten pages.”
“Really? You didn’t take the full fifteen minutes? Alright, let’s see how you do. I’ll ask you questions.”
Doctor Sun started from the first page, covering the names of the herbs with his hand, asking about their properties and uses.
Ping’an was eager to borrow the book, so he focused intently.
Needless to say, he answered correctly for all twenty types of herbs on the ten pages, including their properties and uses, recalling almost everything accurately.
At that moment, there weren’t many people around; several doctors and attendants gathered around to listen, increasingly intrigued.
Wan Changsheng stood nearby, watching his son speak clearly and without hesitation, feeling an immense pride. This child was naturally gifted for studying.
“Wow, impressive! Changsheng, your son has an excellent memory, not a single mistake! Ping’an, I’ll lend you this book for three months; just remember to take care of it. This book is not easy to replace.”
Ping’an smiled brightly. “Thank you, Uncle Sun! I promise I won’t damage it.”
Wan Changsheng approached, “Doctor Sun, I can’t accept such an expensive book.”
Doctor Sun waved his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, as long as he doesn’t damage it. This child is clever; whether he studies or learns medicine, he’ll do well.”
Wan Changsheng chuckled. “I plan to send him to school in early August. A child this young certainly needs to study. You all are busy; I’ll take the child to the bookshop.”
He could tell that Doctor Sun liked Ping’an, but even so, he wouldn’t want to send his child to a medicine shop.
In most families, people would be overjoyed, but not him. He’d heard every word from the side; the child hadn’t made a single mistake.
With such a clever child, he had to give it his all.
He carefully placed the “Baicao Collection” at the bottom of the basket. Their next stops were the cloth shop, the bookstore, and finally the wonton stall.
He didn’t mention his son borrowing the book. After seven years in the military, he had spent half that time helping the military doctor with odds and ends, even taking care of the wounded.
A small part of his time was spent organizing herbs and doing detailed work. He knew quite a bit about medicine, but it was rather limited, mostly related to injuries, colds, and fevers.
Having his son borrow the “Baicao Collection” was a good thing; it would give him a chance to learn as well. After all, in the future, he would be able to find more herbs in the mountains. Money was hard to come by; his monthly income had been around two taels over the past two years.
In the village, that was considered a high income since a typical family could save five taels in a year, which was quite good.
But it still wasn’t enough to support a child through the Imperial Examination.