Chapter 54: The Wandering Healer

The patriarch of the Wen clan immediately furrowed his brow. “Sir, my people still need to continue taking the herbs. Would you allow me to keep one or two doses for them…”

Before he could finish speaking, the circle of officers surrounding him drew their swords from their waists in unison with a sharp, chilling sound. The sudden glint of cold steel silenced the crowd. The Wen patriarch was so startled he stumbled back several steps, nearly falling, but Wang Keyue, quick-witted and alert, reached out from behind and steadied him.

“Heh! These herbs are not something just anyone can afford to drink!” Wang Keyue positioned the Wen patriarch protectively behind himself and stepped forward.

“Hmph! And who are you? How dare you commoners interfere in official affairs—are you not afraid of prison?” The leading officer narrowed his eyes, already annoyed at the time wasted here.

“Heh! You look down on others without cause. I wonder how you even became an officer.” Wang Keyue shook his head in mock lament. The anxious Wen patriarch tugged at his sleeve from behind.

“Insolent wretch! You—”

“Who are you calling wretch? I am the 128th-generation descendant of the Divine Farmer Clan of Kunlun Ruins, known as the Wandering Healer, Physician Wang Yibo. Are you not only blind in heart, but also in eyes?” With a flourish, Wang Keyue displayed his medical kit, the large white character for “Doctor” emblazoned on it for all to see.

The leading officer was momentarily bewildered by this string of grand titles, but he could not deny the forceful presence Wang Keyue exuded. He didn’t quite understand all of it, but it certainly sounded impressive and dignified.

The officers exchanged glances, finding both awe and caution in each other’s eyes.

“Chief, this…this person is a doctor…” one of the officers, whose mouth slanted to one side, seemed to recognize a few characters and hastened to whisper to his superior.

Sure enough, as soon as the leader heard this, his expression grew more respectful. He quickly gestured for his men to sheath their blades.

His face transformed into a formal smile. “We did not know you were Doctor Wang, elder. Please forgive us! As the saying goes, those who do not know are not at fault. Surely you would not hold a grudge against us. We are simply doing our duty for the state. If we have offended, we apologize to you here and now!”

The leader was a man who knew when to yield and when to stand firm; with a single sentence, he dissolved the previous tension.

“You’re a straightforward man. I won’t make things difficult for you. If you wish to have my specially prepared medicine, promise me one thing,” Wang Keyue said.

“Doctor Wang, just say it. So long as it’s within my power, I will do as you ask!” The leader hesitated inwardly, but, having spoken rashly before, now had no choice but to agree.

“It’s not much. Later, I hope you’ll allow two barrels of the brewed herbal medicine to be reserved for the Wen clan.” Wang Keyue had already added a sufficient amount of Western medicine effective against the plague to the herbal mixture, but according to his system’s analysis, even mildly to moderately ill patients would need at least two days’ worth to recover. These two barrels would be enough to address the immediate crisis.

“This…this…” The leader looked around at the seven barrels in total and hesitated.

“Sir, these herbs were not easy to come by. I ask for nothing in return—just a trade for two barrels of the medicine. Moreover, if the city is also afflicted, I am willing to accompany you there and treat the sick. After all, even the best medicine must be matched to the illness to be effective!” Wang Keyue’s words resonated with the officers present.

Many of the officers nodded in agreement, and the leader did as well. “Very well, it’s settled! You start brewing; I will return to the city and report to the county magistrate.”

The leader left two men behind to watch over things and hurried off with the rest. As the officers disappeared from view, the members of the Wen clan all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Immediately, the group set up four large cauldrons on the open ground—not far away, two of them borrowed from the officers for brewing porridge.

Wang Keyue began to simmer the herbs, openly and without concealment, taking from his belt a leather canteen and, with practiced ease, pouring in the specially prepared medicine he had added earlier.

No one questioned him, nor did they harbor suspicions. Only the Wen patriarch watched with some curiosity but said nothing; his mind was occupied with worry for the future.

As Wang Keyue had previously instructed, he knew that those afflicted needed to drink the medicine continuously for two or three days. But if, after today, Wang Keyue was taken away by the officers to Kangle County, his people might relapse, and then, even immortals would not be able to save them.

The Wen patriarch was torn, agonizing over what to do. Unbeknownst to him, Wang Keyue had already made arrangements for their sake.

Wang Keyue quietly pulled the patriarch aside into a tent and whispered to him, placing two large bags of special medicinal liquid at his side.

“Patriarch Wen, these bags contain the oral solution for the plague, specially developed by my sect. After the two barrels of herbal medicine are finished, simply distribute this liquid among the ill. Each person needs only a thumb-sized spoonful per dose, taken three times daily—morning, noon, and night—and they will recover,” Wang Keyue instructed in a low voice.