A variety of medications floated within the space: antibiotics like amoxicillin and cefuroxime; antipyretics and analgesics like aspirin and paracetamol; and classic traditional medicine formulations such as Xiaochaihu granules and Huoxiang Zhengqi liquid. Everything imaginable was there.
The inventory of medications scrolled past rapidly before vital sign monitoring equipment, such as electrocardiogram machines and ventilators, materialized in front of him. Next came medical imaging devices like X-ray machines and CT scanners, followed by diagnostic equipment including blood analyzers and urine analyzers.
Scrolling further, surgical instruments, such as scalpels and hemostatic forceps, were available in complete abundance.
Shi Mu reached out his hand and actually, tangibly retrieved a scalpel.
Furthermore, with just a thought in his mind, he could seamlessly switch back and forth between reality and this space.
Could it be that he had brought along a portable medical resource space?
Ever since starting his undergraduate studies in his past life, all the way through his graduate degree, doctorate, and residency training, he had worked in medicine for fifteen years. While he wouldn’t dare call himself an exceptional doctor, he had always been diligent and conscientious.
If he truly possessed this medical space, he could resume his old profession here in ancient times and make a living to support himself and Jiang Xiaolan.
Besides, this world had a severe shortage of obstetricians and gynecologists, meaning his expertise was a perfect match.
Although Shi Mu’s specialty was obstetrics and gynecology, his undergraduate education had covered all the bases. He had also worked shifts in the emergency department and was capable of treating other common illnesses.
Jiang Xiaolan had suffered from chronic migraine headaches for many years, enduring endless misery. With this medical space, the very first thing he would do was diagnose and treat Jiang Xiaolan!
Her primary symptoms were long-term, recurrent episodes of severe pain in her head and face.
In the original body’s memories, her attacks were excruciating; she would weep tears of agony and bang her head against the wall.
There are many reasons for craniofacial pain, including but not limited to intracranial infections, neural lesions, space-occupying lesions, internal environment disorders, and psychological factors.
Shi Mu rolled off the pile of hay and walked over to Jiang Xiaolan. “Mother, let me examine you.”
The woman looked puzzled. “Examine? What is that?”
Without offering a lengthy explanation, Shi Mu simply said, “Mother, just lie down comfortably.”
He summoned a CT scanner from the system.
Shi Mu hadn’t expected the system to be so intelligent. Considering modern medicine was far too advanced, the sudden appearance of such equipment in ancient times would likely cause a massive uproar.
Consequently, other people could not see these devices at all.
To Jiang Xiaolan, although Shi Mu wasn’t checking her pulse, he kept observing her closely, his expression shifting between frowning and relaxing.
“Is Xiaomu performing witchcraft?”
Shi Mu chuckled. “Mother, just think of it that way if you like.”
From the screen of the spatial computer, Shi Mu could see the CT results: Jiang Xiaolan’s brain showed no abnormalities whatsoever.
After proceeding with an MRI, EEG, transcranial Doppler ultrasound, and other examinations, still no underlying issues were found.
Finally, he performed blood biochemistry, a complete blood count, and other laboratory tests.
The blood-drawing needle transformed into a silver acupuncture needle, held delicately between Shi Mu’s fingers.
Jiang Xiaolan looked even more puzzled. “A silver needle? Xiaomu, what are you doing?”
Shi Mu explained, “Mother, I will try giving you an acupuncture treatment to see if it can relieve your headaches.”
He had indeed spent a month at the Imperial Medical Bureau once, though he hadn’t learned a single thing.
Jiang Xiaolan couldn’t help but be extremely astonished. “Acupuncture? Xiaomu, don’t joke around. How could you possibly know how to do that?”
The young man before her blinked cheerfully. “It won’t hurt you anyway, so why don’t you just give it a try!”
Mothers are always indulgent toward their sons, so she stretched out her hand and let him fuss over her.
These tasks usually belonged to nurses, and Shi Mu was far from skilled. He poked Jiang Xiaolan hard enough that she cried out in pain several times, making him feel quite guilty. Fortunately, he managed to insert the needle properly in the end.
Looking at the silver needle piercing her wrist, Jiang Xiaolan sighed with a wry expression. “Xiaomu, you see, Mother knows you best. You have been clumsy since you were a child and couldn’t learn anything. How could you possibly learn how to do acupuncture?”
Shi Mu realized she was definitely his biological mother.
Though she held no hopes for the silver needle, Jiang Xiaolan suddenly felt that today’s Shi Mu was somewhat different.
Yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on what was different.
He seemed much more fond of smiling than usual.
He was born into the Shi family, where his brothers and sisters had looked down on him since childhood. Previously, after being driven out of the mansion, he would always sigh despondently, but now he seemed to have grown up a great deal.
Jiang Xiaolan felt a pang of relief in her heart, but looking at the dilapidated house before her and facing a life where they didn’t know where their next meal was coming from, she felt the road ahead was bleak.
She had thought that with the backing of modern medical science, curing Jiang Xiaolan’s illness would be a breeze. She never expected that after running every kind of examination, the cause of Jiang Xiaolan’s headaches still remained a mystery.
Still, ruling out organic lesions could be considered good news.
Shi Mu retrieved some neurotrophic drugs and vitamins from the space—the modern medications had transformed into traditional Chinese medicine pills stored in antique little porcelain bottles—and had Jiang Xiaolan take them.
As for her previous herbal prescription, Shi Mu had reviewed it; it used precious medicinal herbs like ginseng and astragalus, focusing mainly on supplementing Qi and warming Yang.
To keep her condition stable, he still needed to continue giving it to her.
However, buying medicine cost money, and eating cost money too. Where would the money come from?
He would simply have to earn it himself.
The protagonists in those transmigration novels always initiated the gears of destiny the moment they transmigrated.
In Shi Mu’s case of transmigration, the gears of destiny hadn’t budged at all, but Xie Yi had completely thrown off the chains of his life.
Under the circumstances, if he wanted to make money and properly survive alongside Jiang Xiaolan, his only option was to use this medical system to diagnose and treat patients.
With that thought, Shi Mu couldn’t lie still any longer; he prepared to head out and look for opportunities to practice medicine and help people.
It was the period of Chushu, and the temperature was still high.
Shi Mu wanted to change his clothes before heading out.
After searching for a long time, he found he only had two garments left. Both were very old, bearing visible patches and mended seams.
Still, he had no choice but to put one on.
People in ancient times wore their hair long. Styling an elaborate hair bun was beyond Shi Mu’s ability, so he simply used a cyan hair ribbon to tie his hair back into a simple high ponytail.
Stepping out of the room and arriving in the courtyard, he ran straight into a sturdy, dark-skinned man entering the gate.
The courtyard contained three rooms, shared by three households. Shi Mu and Jiang Xiaolan lived in one room, while this man, his older sister, and his brother-in-law occupied the other two.
The man was named Song Nianshan, and he worked in the city as a laborer hauling stones and bricks.
Shi Mu saw him limping into the courtyard, his trousers torn open at the leg, looking in pain.
Shi Mu stepped forward and asked, “Brother Song, are you hurt?”
This was the young master of the Shi family who had moved in just a month ago.
Although they lived in the same courtyard and ran into each other every day, this young master had a gloomy disposition. Aside from the very first day when his mother brought him over to make introductions, he had never spoken a word and always looked rather morose.
Since the other person came from an official background and wasn’t of the same walk of life, Song Nianshan had never thought of initiating contact.
During this time, the two hadn’t spoken, and Song Nianshan hadn’t even clearly seen the young man’s face.
Hearing him call out now, Song Nianshan was startled for a moment. “Shi, Shi young master.”
Shi Mu took two steps forward. “Brother Song, are you injured?” With that, he squatted down to examine the wound.
Beneath the torn fabric of the trousers, the wound on Song Nianshan’s calf was three centimeters long and extended deep into the subcutaneous tissue. The blood had already clotted, but it was stained with a fair amount of dust, making it look quite gruesome.
Song Nianshan was twenty-one this year, neither married nor having had much contact with women or young unmarried men.
Looking down now, he noticed that although the young master’s clothes were threadbare, his hair was tied high, fully revealing a pair of brows and eyes as picturesque as a painting. His skin was fair and delicate, like white porcelain, which inexplicably caused Song Nianshan to feel a twinge of tension.
Having finished inspecting the wound, Shi Mu looked up and asked, “How did you get hurt?”
“I was scratched by a sharp corner while hauling stones. I was just going to grab a steamed bun and head to the medical clinic to get it bandaged.”
As a physical laborer, Song Nianshan frequently got hurt and usually didn’t bother bandaging minor injuries. But today’s wound was deep; if he didn’t get it treated properly right away, it would delay him for seven or eight days.
Just as he was about to leave, his hand was caught by Shi Mu.
Song Nianshan felt that the other’s fingers were slender and delicate, like the tender shoots of a plant, which felt a bit unnatural. “What is it?”
A clear, bright smile danced in the depths of Shi Mu’s eyes. “Brother Song, you don’t need to go to a clinic. I can bandage it for you.”
Song Nianshan was taken aback. “You will bandage it for me?”
“Yes!”
Before Song Nianshan could react or figure out why the other suddenly wanted to treat his wound, he was pulled over and seated on a stone stool in the courtyard.
Shi Mu squatted down, rolled up Song Nianshan’s trouser leg, and then fumbled around in his lapel to pull out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and cotton swabs from the space, carefully clearing the dust and gravel from the wound.
After cleaning it, he produced a small jar of anti-inflammatory ointment and applied it to the surrounding skin.
Once the ointment was applied, he finished by wrapping the wound in gauze.
He had very nimble hands; the white cloth strips wound around the wound layer by layer in a spiral, without a single wrinkle or trace of disorder.
Song Nianshan found this immensely amazing and couldn’t help looking left and right, while listening to the instructions: “Keep the wound away from water for the next few days.”
“Thank you, Shi, Young Master Shi.”
Shi Mu curved the corners of his lips. “Just call me by my name.”
“Alright, Shi Mu.” Unaccustomed to it, Song Nianshan quickly added, “Young Master.”
“You are welcome.” Not having paid attention before, Song Nianshan now realized that the youth’s voice was so light, crisp, and bright.
He also felt completely different from before—not gloomy at all, but rather giving off a warm, spring-breeze-like comfort.
“Thank you.”
Not knowing what else to say, Song Nianshan turned to head back to his room when he suddenly heard the youth call out to him again, “Brother Song.”
“Hm?”
Song Nianshan turned around to see the young master smilingly stretching out a hand. “You have not paid your consultation fee yet. Twenty wen.”
At first, Song Nianshan had thought the other was just helping him out of kindness.
However, the medicine was his, and the gauze was his too; paying a consultation fee was only natural.
Besides, getting medicine and a dressing at a medical clinic would easily cost fifty or sixty wen.
He felt around in his pocket, pulled out two strings of copper coins, and handed them over.
The young man before him broke into another radiant smile. “Thank you, you are welcome to come back anytime!” Pocketing the money, he stepped lightly out the gate.
Shi Mu first stopped by a steamed bun shop and bought four meat buns.
He happily wolfed down two himself and left the other two for Jiang Xiaolan.
After that, he was nearly out of money again.
In the afternoon, when Jiang Xiaolan returned from doing sewing and mending work, she was greatly surprised to see the meat buns and asked where they came from.
Since he intended to practice medicine going forward, Shi Mu simply told her straight out that he wouldn’t be going back to do odd jobs at Qingyin Pavilion anymore, and that from now on he would go out to treat people and earn money.
Jiang Xiaolan’s expression instantly turned extremely unsightly. “How can that be? How can you, a young man, show your face in public and go out treating people?”
Shi Mu hadn’t expected her focus not to be on whether he could actually practice medicine, but rather on the fact that he was a young man.
This kind of gender discrimination truly was something impossible to eradicate across dynasties.
“Then what else can you do? The two of us cannot just starve to death.”
Jiang Xiaolan had no retort.
Shi Mu soothed her gently, “Do not worry, Mother. I will make a living through my own skills and will not be afraid of what others gossip about.”
Jiang Xiaolan’s eyes welled up with tears. “What are you going to do if you cannot get married in the future?”
Shi Mu had never thought about getting married.
After resting for a day to let the physical discomfort and marks fade a little bit, early the next morning, Shi Mu fetched a rattan-woven back basket to use as a medical box. Although it was a bit worn out, it didn’t matter; he didn’t actually need to carry real medicines inside it anyway.
After all, pulling things out of nowhere at random was liable to cause panic.
He also found a piece of white cloth, wrote down his signboard on it, and stepped out into the misty morning light.
In this dynasty, known as the Yi Dynasty, the medical system implemented a tiered management structure.
The Court of Imperial Sacrifices, subordinate to the Ministry of Rites, served as the medical administrative agency, while the Imperial Medical Bureau combined both medical education and healthcare organizational functions.
Because Shi Mu’s father was the Junior Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, the original body had previously had the opportunity to study things at the Imperial Medical Bureau, though unfortunately he was sent home after staying for only a month.
The medical officer who had tutored him left with a smiling parting remark: “Your esteemed son must certainly be blessed with great fortune.”
After pondering it for a day, Shi Shixian finally realized the other person was mocking his son for being a fool blessed with accidental luck.
Imperial physicians who served the royal family exclusively were stationed in the Hanlin Medical Academy, whereas ordinary folk doctors were divided into stationary clinic physicians and itinerant physicians.
Itinerant physicians were essentially barefoot doctors who walked the streets and alleys. While they charged lower consultation fees, whether they could cure an illness depended entirely on fate; after all, after finishing a treatment today, they might be impossible to find tomorrow.
Stationary clinic physicians ranked a step higher than itinerant physicians, possessing fixed practice locations and correspondingly higher consultation fees.
Stationary clinic physicians couldn’t run away; if they failed to cure a patient, people could go to their clinic to make a scene.
Stationary clinic physicians were further divided into Grade A and Grade B.
Grade A physicians possessed both a fixed location and technical skill—those who had passed examinations after briefly studying at the Imperial Medical Bureau, held practicing licenses, and guaranteed therapeutic efficacy.
Grade B physicians were those who had a location but whose medical skills were uncertain.
Since Shi Mu was currently penniless, opening a clinic was out of the question.
Therefore, he would simply start out as an itinerant physician.