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One early morning, Liu Mingyi set out with a bamboo basket instead of his usual medicine box. Wei Lan, lounging on a bamboo recliner in the courtyard, stretched lazily and asked, “Mingyi, aren’t you seeing patients today?”
“I’m heading into the mountains to look for ginseng,” Liu Mingyi replied, securing a machete at his waist.
Hearing the word “ginseng,” Wei Lan instantly jumped up, eyes sparkling. “I want to go too!”
“The deep mountains are full of venomous insects and fierce beasts. If you come along, I’ll have to worry about protecting you,” Mingyi said while stuffing a cloth bag of dry rations into his bamboo basket, not even looking up. “Besides, for the past twenty years, no one has found wild ginseng in Wuchuan Mountain. It’s likely a wasted trip.”
Wei Lan grabbed his water pouch and filled it. “I promise I won’t cause trouble! But why do you need ginseng? Are you planning to sell it?”
“It’s for Miss Tang,” Liu Mingyi replied, tucking a copy of The Ginseng Chronicles into his robe. “Liaodong has long been occupied by the Jurchens. Ever since Nurhaci established his kingdom, ginseng from beyond the Shanhai Pass has been completely cut off. Now, a single ounce of ginseng costs ten times its weight in gold. Even the wealthy Tang family can’t compete with the royal households for it.”
Wei Lan smirked. “Brother Dan once said that people used to dig up ginseng in these mountains…”
Seeing the undisguised greed in her eyes, Mingyi chuckled. “That’s just a legend. Plenty of people have dreamed of striking it rich with ginseng, yet none have succeeded. Do you think money is that easy to make?”
Wei Lan felt a bit guilty—wasn’t she just like those people? She rubbed her nose sheepishly. “Then why are you still going?”
“To try—for Miss Tang’s sake. Besides, after studying The Ginseng Chronicles, I’m convinced that Wuchuan Mountain has the right conditions for wild ginseng to grow.”
Wei Lan suddenly leaned in and whispered, “You’re so dedicated… Don’t tell me you have feelings for Miss Tang?”
“Nonsense!” Liu Mingyi’s face darkened.
Wei Lan, feeling the heat in her ears, quickly realized that this wasn’t the 21st century, where such teasing was casual. She hurriedly changed the subject. “What’s wrong with Miss Tang, anyway?”
“She was born weak, with a condition that leaves her blood deficient. She’s always cold, more so than most people.”
Wei Lan recalled their first meeting—Miss Tang’s face had been as pale as paper. It did seem like chronic anemia. But hearing “born weak” made her ask, “Does anyone else in her family have the same condition?”
“Her parents are healthy, but her grandmother had it too. She passed away at thirty-eight when her blood ran dry,” Liu Mingyi said, frowning. “Is there a connection?”
“That’s called an inherited deficiency,” Wei Lan explained, carefully choosing words ancient people could understand. “Similar to the concept in medical texts of ‘a mother’s illness affecting her child.’ It requires continuous treatment with herbs like donkey-hide gelatin and ginseng to nourish the blood.” In truth, she suspected it was a genetic disorder, possibly something like thalassemia.
Mingyi nodded. “Since adding Liaodong ginseng to her treatment, her cold symptoms have improved.”
“But this kind of constitution…” Wei Lan hesitated before swallowing the term “genetic defect.” Instead, she said, “It’s a fundamental weakness from birth—it can be managed but not cured.” The only true cure would be a bone marrow transplant, but that was impossible in this era.
Seeing her solemn expression, Mingyi reassured her. “No worries. With careful treatment, she’s already doing much better than before.”
Wei Lan fell silent for a moment. She realized that no matter how much medical knowledge she had, without modern equipment, much of it was useless. High-tech treatments were just an unattainable dream in this world.
Still, she could make a difference. She planned to introduce the Heimlich maneuver to prevent choking deaths. She also wanted to promote the use of medical alcohol to reduce wound infections.
But for these plans to succeed, she needed a solid base of operations. While barefoot doctors provided flexible healthcare in remote areas, they lacked resources, organization, and proper equipment. A fixed medical center would allow her to systematically train others and spread medical knowledge.
Yet, at the moment, she was completely broke.
With determination, Wei Lan declared, “I’m going ginseng hunting too!” If she found an old ginseng root, she could fund her medical center.
Liu Mingyi raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know the difference between ginseng seedlings and wild radish roots?”
“You can teach me!” Wei Lan replied without hesitation. Knowing they’d be out all day, she changed into durable linen clothing, donned a straw hat, and got ready.
They laid out their tools on the millstone. Mingyi’s short-handled herb hoe gleamed from years of sharpening, while Wei Lan’s still carried the metallic scent of fresh iron.
Noticing the simple dry rations Mingyi had packed, Wei Lan took out a pouch and shook it proudly. “Dried spiced chicken! Flatbreads won’t fill you up—meat is better!”
As the sun rose, they followed the stream northward into the mountains.
Suddenly, the sound of rapid hoofbeats filled the air. A yellow dog, Jiabao, came bounding down the slope, kicking up a cloud of dust. Before Wei Lan could react, Jiabao had already nosed open the pouch at her waist.
“Jiabao!” Wei Lan laughed, trying to push the dog away, but it planted its front paws on her shoulders and nearly licked her chin.
Mingyi had expected Jiabao to greet him first—they had been friends for years—but the dog had gone straight for Wei Lan instead. He scratched Jiabao’s head, amused. “He only sees food.”
“Greedy mutt!” Wei Lan dangled a piece of meat jerky. “Fine, since you caught the wild chicken, you can have a piece—but just one!” Jiabao immediately stood on its hind legs, paws flailing eagerly. The moment she tossed the meat, the dog leaped, snatched it midair, and ran off to enjoy its prize.
Nearby, the hunter Dan was sharpening his arrows, sparks flying from the grindstone. Seeing Jiabao return with meat in its mouth, he nudged it with his foot. “Shameless.” Jiabao slunk to a corner, happily chewing.
Dan glanced up. “What are you two looking for in the mountains?”
“Ginseng,” Mingyi replied.
Dan pointed northward. “Try beneath the linden trees—thick layers of decaying leaves there.”
Following his advice, they continued into the forest. Mingyi used his machete to clear the way, explaining, “Ginseng grows under linden trees because the wide leaves provide shade. The ground should be soft, covered in decomposed leaves.”
Wei Lan prodded the soil with a stick. “Like this yellow clay?”
“It should be more brownish.” Mingyi grabbed a handful of dirt and crumbled it between his fingers.
As they passed a dark thicket, Wei Lan pointed. “That area looks denser. Should we check it out?”
Mingyi suddenly yanked her back. “That’s the Enchanted Forest! No one goes in—once you enter, you won’t find your way out.”
Wei Lan blinked at the towering trees, their dense canopy blocking out the sun. The silence of the forest made it seem even more eerie.
“Enchanted Forest?” she murmured.
Mingyi nodded grimly. “Even the most seasoned hunters get lost in there. The terrain is confusing, and strange things happen inside.”
Later, after hours of searching, they still hadn’t found ginseng. As the sun began to set, Mingyi suggested, “Let’s go back and try again tomorrow.”
But Wei Lan wasn’t willing to return empty-handed. Examining the soil at the forest’s edge, she noted, “This dirt is stickier, and there are three times as many earthworms.” She looked toward the shadowy forest and her eyes sparkled. “I have a feeling the ginseng is in there.”
Mingyi shook his head. “Even if it is, we can’t risk it.”
“Fifty steps!” Wei Lan declared. “I won’t go further than fifty steps.” Without waiting, she strode into the forest.
Mingyi gritted his teeth and followed, marking trees every few steps.
What they didn’t realize was that in the mountains, distances were often deceptive. What seemed like fifty steps… could be much, much farther.