Chapter Thirty-Eight: Miraculous Beyond Compare

The middle-aged man was visibly tense, his gaze never leaving the ear of the obese old man. As he watched bright drops of blood trickle from the old man’s ear, it seemed as if his very heart was bleeding with it. Nearly kneeling at the bedside, he lowered his voice and asked, “Father, how are you feeling now?”

“Dizzy, my head spinning, stars before my eyes—what on earth is wrong with me?” the obese old man called out loudly, his voice still as booming as ever.

At this, Qiu Huichun’s face was impassive; in his eyes, the whole scene was utter nonsense.

Zhou Zhi, on the other hand, wore a serious expression. He was not concerned about the old man’s illness but rather worried that if the old man did not, in fact, suffer from high blood pressure, or if bloodletting proved ineffective, then Qiu Huichun would be forced to spend ages treating the old man in vain. Who knew when it would finally be Zhou Shaocheng’s turn to be examined?

“Young man, were you deceiving me just now?” the middle-aged man asked Zhou Zhi coldly, seeing that his father had already lost a considerable amount of blood yet showed no sign of improvement.

At first, the blood that trickled from the old man’s ear was thick and dark red, but now it had become bright crimson, and the flow had quickened. Yet, the old man’s condition remained unchanged, and Zhou Zhi was greatly disheartened.

This is bad, he thought. It seems I guessed wrong; the old man’s illness isn’t high blood pressure after all.

Zhou Zhi, having never studied medicine in the future world, possessed only some practical experience from modern life and naturally could not determine the nature of the old man’s illness.

Well, a mistake is a mistake, he consoled himself, but it’s a pity that he would still have to wait a long time before Qiu Huichun could attend to his younger brother.

But just at that moment, the old man suddenly exclaimed, “Oh! My mind feels clear now! And my eyes—no more stars before them!”

As he spoke, he actually got out of bed on his own.

“Careful, Father! Please don’t fall!” the middle-aged man rushed to steady him.

“Haha! I’m fine now—truly recovered!” the old man said joyfully. He got out of bed and took a few steps, fresh blood still dripping from his ear, but he paid it no mind.

“He’s truly well! My father has recovered!” The middle-aged man’s eyes shone with delight as he watched his father walk with vigor and spirit.

“Thank you, Doctor Qiu! Your skill is miraculous!” The middle-aged man hastened to bow to Qiu Huichun, who by now was utterly dumbfounded.

Could bloodletting truly cure his illness? What exactly did the old man suffer from? That Zhou family lad truly was uncanny.

Qiu Huichun finally regained his composure, his old face flushing as he said, “You should not thank me; if anyone deserves your gratitude, it is this young man.” As he spoke, he gestured toward Zhou Zhi.

The middle-aged man was, of course, well aware that the credit belonged to Zhou Zhi. His initial thanks to Qiu Huichun were only out of respect for the older man. As for Zhou Zhi, he would naturally thank him as well.

He had already noticed that Zhou Zhi was from a poor farming family, yet the young man’s handsome features and the air about his eyes and brows set him apart from ordinary country lads.

“Thank you, young man. If it weren’t for you, my father might have…” The middle-aged man stood before Zhou Zhi and bowed deeply.

In truth, Zhou Zhi had not taken a liking to this man; though the fellow looked proper enough, he seemed somewhat overbearing and rude. Still, perhaps it was only Zhou Zhi’s own impatience, his overwhelming desire to have his younger brother treated promptly.

The man was about forty, the same age as Zhou Zhi’s father, Zhou Tie. Zhou Zhi should rightly address him as uncle, but since the man had called him “young brother,” Zhou Zhi responded in kind.

Zhou Zhi felt awkward at the man’s formality and replied hastily, “No need for thanks—it was nothing.”

Glancing over, he saw Qiu Huichun tending to the old man’s bleeding with a somber face. A thought occurred to him, and he quickly added, “If you wish to thank anyone, you should thank Doctor Qiu. I merely guessed that bloodletting might work, but as for actually performing it, I would have been helpless—I don’t even know where the acupoint on the ear is located.”

Zhou Zhi’s words were sincere and unpretentious. He had to speak thus, for he still hoped Qiu Huichun would treat his brother next; there was no sense in offending the old doctor. On the contrary, it was best to ingratiate himself.

Upon hearing Zhou Zhi, Qiu Huichun’s expression immediately softened. He thought to himself that this Zhou family lad certainly knew how to conduct himself.

In truth, Qiu Huichun’s feelings were complicated. He was the physician, yet he had failed to diagnose, let alone treat, the old man’s illness. That an outsider like Zhou Zhi could hit upon a cure by chance was humiliating. Yet, since he had learned something new from the experience—and the old man and his son were important figures in the community—things had turned out well enough. The patient had been cured, and ties had been maintained.

The middle-aged man reached into his robe and produced a small bag, containing about an ounce of loose silver. He offered it to Qiu Huichun, saying, “Doctor Qiu, I’m truly grateful. Please, you must accept this payment.”

“There’s no need for that—please take it back,” Qiu Huichun protested, waving his hands repeatedly.

“Paying a doctor for his services is only right and proper. Doctor Qiu, you must accept it,” the man insisted, his tone firm.

“This… even if a fee is due, this is far too much,” Qiu Huichun replied, looking troubled.

“Ha! Think of the extra as my thanks to this young man,” the middle-aged man laughed heartily.

With that, Qiu Huichun could no longer refuse. After all, as a physician, all his family’s expenses depended on his fees. If he stopped accepting payment, how would he support his household?

“Well, if that’s the case, then I shall accept,” he said, slipping the silver into his pocket.

Zhou Zhi had intended to stop the man from paying on his behalf, but Qiu Huichun’s actions were too swift, and he had no choice but to let it go. He hurriedly said to the man, “Thank you, brother.”

“Ha! There’s no need to thank me. You saved my father—it’s a debt I can never repay. What’s a doctor’s fee compared to that?” the middle-aged man replied with a hearty laugh. “A moment ago, I was anxious for my father and spoke harshly. I hope you won’t take it amiss.”

“It’s nothing, nothing at all,” Zhou Zhi replied with a wave of his hand, not wanting to waste another moment in idle chatter. The important thing now was for Qiu Huichun to see to his younger brother.

No more delays could be allowed. Zhou Zhi quickly laid his brother on the wooden bed. After vomiting earlier, Zhou Shaocheng’s face was deathly pale, his eyes tightly shut, as if he had fallen into a faint. At the sight, Zhou Zhi’s heart clenched with fear. Could his brother be seriously ill?

“Doctor Qiu, please examine my brother quickly,” he urged.

Having just received nearly an ounce of silver from the middle-aged man—a considerable sum—Qiu Huichun did not dare to dawdle. He placed his hand on Zhou Shaocheng’s forehead, examined his tongue, and took his pulse, proceeding with careful attention and practiced ease.