Chapter 47: Old Man Wen

The old man was very kind. He took a hard, green pancake from his luggage and handed it to Wang Keyue.

“Sir, don’t worry. It’s late today, but tomorrow I’ll call some clansmen to help you search around. Here, take this and eat a little to fill your stomach.” The old man pressed the pancake into Wang Keyue’s hand.

“Oh, I can’t accept this! Brother, this is your family’s... Food is precious these days, you’d better keep it safe!” Wang Keyue didn’t dare take a whole day’s ration from someone else, and hurriedly tried to return the pancake.

“No! No, sir! Please keep it. May I ask your name?” The old man’s expression grew earnest.

“My surname is Wang,” Wang Keyue replied with a chuckle. “May I ask yours?”

“Oh, I’m just a humble farmer. Everyone in the village calls me Old Wen. That’s what you can call me too.” Old Wen hesitated for a moment.

“Brother Wen, is there something weighing on your mind?” Wang Keyue felt a surge of delight—say it, quickly, say it!

“Well... I’d like to ask Doctor Wang for a favor, to help look at my little grandson...” Tears welled in Old Wen’s eyes as he spoke, and suddenly he knelt before Wang Keyue with a thud.

Wang Keyue slowly helped Old Wen up, maintaining the air of a sage: “Brother Wen, please rise. Though I am but a wandering physician, my skills are not too shabby. Don’t worry, let me first examine your grandson’s condition.”

Old Wen was moved again and wanted to kneel in gratitude, but Wang Keyue held him back, signaling to let him see the child first.

Old Wen quickly brought out a small child from the shabby tent by the fire, who looked about three or four years old.

The child was dressed thinly, his frail body like a paper doll. At this moment, his eyes were tightly closed. On his waxen, gaunt face, an unnatural flush spread across his cheeks. Wang Keyue felt his forehead—it was burning hot—then opened the collar and sleeves, and indeed saw red blisters clustered there.

“This is my grandson, Little Tiger. He’s five years old. My eldest and his wife went out searching for herbs during the day and still haven’t returned. The child started feeling unwell yesterday, and today it’s gotten much worse...” The old man began describing the situation.

Wang Keyue listened in surprise—the child was actually five years old. This was a case of severe malnutrition, and judging by his condition, if the illness wasn’t contained, the little one might not last through the night. Having confirmed it was an epidemic, Wang Keyue instructed the old man to fetch some pots and bowls; she needed to start preparing medicine for the child immediately.

Hearing there was hope, the old man rushed off to borrow a pot from another tent. While no one was around, Wang Keyue used alcohol to wipe the child’s limbs and armpits, then took two bags of water from her space and gave the child some to drink. His lips were so parched they were almost cracking. The bag contained salt and sugar water, specially prepared by Wang Keyue. The moment the water touched the child’s mouth, he seemed to sense it and instinctively opened his mouth, gulping it down without ever opening his eyes. Wang Keyue watched, amazed.

Just as she finished tending to the child, the old man returned, accompanied by two middle-aged men.

“Uncle Wen, are you sure this person is really a doctor? You’re not being fooled, are you?” one of the men asked cautiously.

The old man’s voice turned unexpectedly stern: “Wen Gangzi, I’m old enough not to be easily deceived. Enough nonsense, go back—your wife is calling you!”

At that, the man reflexively turned to look, hesitated, then tried to approach the so-called wandering healer. But in the next moment, as if hearing something, he hurried back, calling over his shoulder, “Uncle Wen, I trust you! I’ll go see what my wife wants, but tomorrow... I’ll come and see the doctor too.”

Old Wen sighed, thinking he’d perhaps caused trouble for Doctor Wang. The other middle-aged man seemed steadier. Old Wen looked at him and said, “Your brother’s gone, why are you still here?”

“Uncle Wen, I wanted to ask about Mother’s illness...” As soon as this man spoke about synovitis, Old Wen already knew what he meant.

“Dali, you’re a good child. Go on, just speak less for now.” With that, Old Wen led the man called Dali back to his tent.

Inside, they found Doctor Wang had already laid out a pile of herbs on the ground. Before anyone could speak, a whiff of something like strong liquor wafted from his grandson. Old Wen quickly set down the pot to check on the child.

“Don’t worry, I just used a bit of alcohol to wipe his hands and feet, to reduce his fever and prevent his brain from overheating,” Wang Keyue explained simply as she began boiling the herbs. Of course, the water she used was her own special blend, with Western medicine added.