I Come from the Future

I Come from the Future

Since Wei Lan and Liu Mingyi moved the anatomy class to an underground secret teaching area, the Confucian scholars stopped causing trouble. Among the doctors in Changsha Prefecture, the two of them had the best medical skills and the most innovative teaching methods. The students eagerly awaited their return to class every day, so it didn’t take long before they resumed their regular lessons.

Now, the two were primarily focused on teaching, occasionally seeing difficult cases that other doctors couldn’t treat. The medical hall and pharmacy were entirely managed by Shunxing, who became more efficient since his leg injury healed. With apprentices like Sanqi and Banxia, who were now capable of running things on their own, handling prescriptions, managing accounts, and caring for patients, Wei Lan and Liu Mingyi didn’t need to worry about them. With this help, Wei Lan began to focus on researching her second medical book.

Wei Lan flipped open the newly printed, color-illustrated edition of Compendium of Materia Medica, her finger landing on the word “toxin.” Over the past half year, she had been teaching people to disinfect with alcohol and boil gauze, frequently saying “eliminate evil toxins,” but she knew deep down that the real culprits were the invisible bacteria. Now that her first medical book was published, it was time to write the second one, incorporating the real principles of disinfection.

It wasn’t enough to promote alcohol only in Changsha Prefecture; she needed doctors everywhere to understand sterilization. Sweet potatoes were starting to be planted widely, and when the harvest was large enough, alcohol could be produced in bulk. At that point, alcohol would be as accessible as medicinal herbs.

However, she thought, she couldn’t directly mention the concept of “bacteria,” only making improvements and innovations based on ancient texts. She looked up and asked, “Mingyi, do any ancient medical texts mention the word ‘bacteria’?”

Mingyi, who was busy sorting medical records, looked up and asked in confusion, “Do you mean ‘earth bacteria’? That refers to mushrooms in the wild.”

Wei Lan shook her head. “Not mushrooms or fungi. I mean, has any predecessor ever mentioned the cause of disease as… very small living things?”

“Mingyi took a book Treatise on the Origins of Diseases from the shelf and opened it, “Chao Yuanfang from the Sui Dynasty mentioned ‘insects’.” He pointed to a passage, “It says scabies is caused by scabies mites, and ringworm by ringworm insects.”

Wei Lan snatched the book from his hands, her eyes lighting up. “Exactly! The ancients had already discovered pathogens! What we’ve been killing with boiling gauze and garlic juice are these tiny insects!”

“What insects?” Liu Mingyi asked, looking at Wei Lan in confusion.

Wei Lan stood up. “Come, I’ll show you.” She led him to the backyard and scooped some water. “The reason I tell everyone to drink boiled water is because it hides invisible little insects in it, which can cause illness. Boiling water kills them.”

Liu Mingyi still didn’t believe it. “Invisible insects? How do you know if they’re invisible?”

“I’ll do an experiment for you.” Wei Lan picked up some small stones, starting with a walnut-sized rock and going down to tiny sand grains. She continued, “You see, sand is already very small. But in the dirt, there are things a hundred times smaller than this, things we can’t see. Living creatures can be that tiny too.” She rubbed her fingers together, and sand dust fell.

Liu Mingyi held the sand grains. “But how can we prove the existence of invisible things?”

“It’s like how we can’t hear certain sounds or see certain colors. Some things are just beyond our sensory range.” Wei Lan dabbed a bit of water and drew a circle on a stone. “There will be a kind of mirror that will someday allow us to see these invisible things, like glasses that help our eyes see better.”

Mingyi asked, “You mean a magnifying glass?”

Wei Lan smiled and nodded. “Much better than a magnifying glass, able to magnify many, many times.”

It wasn’t until the mid-17th century that Antonie van Leeuwenhoek, through improvements to the microscope, allowed humans to observe the existence of bacteria for the first time.

Liu Mingyi stared at Wei Lan. Since her appearance, she had been unusual, and although she always claimed to have amnesia and forget her birth date, those explanations didn’t hold up under scrutiny. He had originally thought everyone had their secrets, but today, Wei Lan’s theory about the “little insects” made his doubts grow stronger.

He had a feeling that Wei Lan wasn’t from this world. The talents she displayed seemed to be just the tip of the iceberg, and she was always holding something back.

“Lan, you always say ‘the future will have this,’ but how do you know about the future?” He took a step closer, “Just now you spoke so confidently about those little insects, and you were certain they existed. And all the medical knowledge you’ve mentioned, like CPR, the Heimlich maneuver, alcohol disinfection, and steam sterilization—all of these are found in the medical books, but no one has ever spoken about them as clearly as you do.”

He stared directly into Wei Lan’s eyes. “The way you speak with certainty makes it seem like these things have already been common knowledge to you.”

Wei Lan stepped back and accidentally bumped into the medicine drying rack. Her fingers unconsciously grabbed the corner of her clothes. Liu Mingyi’s sudden question caught her off guard, and she tried to remain calm, “These are all speculations; medicine is about bold guesses…”

“You’re not the type to speak carelessly,” Liu Mingyi interrupted. “You said boiling water kills invisible insects, but when you mentioned that kind of magnifying mirror, it was as if you had seen it with your own eyes.”

Wei Lan felt his gaze piercing her. She opened her mouth but didn’t know how to explain. These were common concepts in modern medicine, but they couldn’t be proven in this era.

“You’re not suffering from amnesia,” Liu Mingyi’s voice suddenly softened, “You remember too many things that you shouldn’t remember and forget too much common knowledge you should know. On the night of the Lantern Festival, you stared at the Kongming lantern and said, ‘What if it could fly higher than the moon?’”

Wei Lan suddenly lifted her head. She did indeed drink too much osmanthus wine that night and had drunkenly mentioned things like satellites and rockets.

“At first, I suspected you were a spy,” Liu Mingyi smiled faintly, “But what kind of spy would spend their own money to treat and save people?”

He stopped smiling and asked seriously, “Lan, where exactly are you from? And what are these so-called ancestral medical books you have?”

The air suddenly grew tense as the two stared at each other, a subtle tension filling the space. Wei Lan gazed at Liu Mingyi’s handsome profile, her heart racing. She suddenly realized that her trust in Mingyi had reached a nearly blind level, to the point where she had forgotten her identity as a “time traveler.”

Liu Mingyi suddenly laughed, breaking the silence. “I promise, whatever secret you don’t want to share, I’ll never tell anyone.” He extended his pinky, his tone casual but serious, “If you don’t believe me, let’s make a pinky swear.”

“I can’t say,” Wei Lan’s voice trembled slightly, “If I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

“Anything you say, I’ll believe,” Liu Mingyi’s voice held an unquestionable sincerity, as if he was assuring Wei Lan that no matter what she said, he would accept it without reservation.

Wei Lan’s heart stirred. She gazed into his deep eyes, warmth flooding through her. After spending over half a year together, she had become very familiar with Liu Mingyi’s personality and character. At this moment, she actually wanted to confess everything, but she feared that Mingyi might think she was talking nonsense.

She cautiously asked, “What if I say… I’m not from the Ming Dynasty? Or that I came from another world?”

“Are you a fairy? Reincarnated? A ghost? Or…?” Liu Mingyi suddenly bent down to her level, his eyes teasing, “A fox spirit?”

Wei Lan couldn’t help but laugh, and the atmosphere lightened considerably. She countered, “Don’t I look like a human?”

Liu Mingyi laughed as well, “You’re the one who said you’re not from the Ming Dynasty.”

“Awoo!” Wei Lan growled playfully, pretending to bite him, but Liu Mingyi grabbed her shoulder. Through the thin fabric of her clothes, his hand’s warmth made her ears flush. “If I were a monster, would you be afraid I’d eat you?”

“A monster? What kind of monster? Show me your true form,” Liu Mingyi applied slight pressure to her shoulder, but his tone was playful, “A monster that can cure and save people is much better than those quack doctors.”

“You’re really no fun!” Wei Lan pouted and brushed his hand off, lowering her voice, “If I tell you… you can’t tell anyone. You have to act like you don’t know anything and still treat me the same way. Is that okay?”

Liu Mingyi leaned in closer to hear her better, extending his pinky, “I promise you.”

“I’m not doing a pinky swear!” Wei Lan slapped his hand away, “Do you think I’m a three-year-old? You have to swear an oath!”

“What kind of oath?” Liu Mingyi raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips, but his eyes were serious.

Wei Lan thought for a moment, not wanting to joke with her life or her family. Her eyes twinkled mischievously, “If you tell anyone, you’ll never get married!”

Liu Mingyi raised an eyebrow, pretending to be shocked, “So cruel, do you want me to grow old alone?”

Wei Lan crossed her arms proudly, “Hey, I’m telling you a huge secret. If you don’t swear, I won’t tell you.”

Liu Mingyi suddenly knelt on one knee, three fingers together, and seriously declared, “Heaven and Earth bear witness, if I, Liu Mingyi, ever reveal Wei Lan’s secret, I shall live a life of loneliness and have no descendants.”

Wei Lan jumped, rushing to stop him, stamping her foot anxiously, “No, no, no! Don’t swear on your ancestors! If your dad finds out, he’ll scold me to death.”

Liu Mingyi rose with a smile, “Now can you tell me?”

Wei Lan bit her lip, her voice as quiet as a mosquito’s hum: “I come from the future.”

Mingyi leaned in, “What did you say? Can you say it louder?”

Wei Lan clenched her teeth and raised her voice, speaking quickly: “I come from the future.”

Mingyi stood still for a moment, then his expression turned into one of incredulity and amusement, “You mean you come from ‘Wei Lan’? You’re just messing with me, right? What kind of secret is that?”

Wei Lan groaned in frustration, tugging at her hair. “Ugh, why is it so hard to say!” She took a deep breath and shouted, “The future! The future! The world hundreds of years from now!!!”