The so-called Dannanxing was actually prepared from Arisaema. It had to be soaked for a month, dried, ground into powder, then mixed evenly with bile juice. After that, it was steamed, dried again, and finally shaped into strips or cakes. The process was complicated and time-consuming, so most veteran pharmacists were unwilling to prepare it.
“I know,” Qin Laidi said. “If Arisaema is processed with bile juice, not only does it reduce toxicity, but it also enhances its heat-clearing effects. It works especially well for patients with phlegm due to lung heat.”
The old pharmacist’s eyes lit up. “Oh? You know quite a bit.”
“In that case, prepare five jin for me next week. I’ll pay you eight yuan. How about it?”
Qin Laidi was overjoyed. “Deal!”
“But you must do it properly. Use enough bile juice—no cutting corners.”
“Don’t worry. To be honest, I want to do long-term business with you. I wouldn’t ruin my reputation for a small profit… It’s just that bile juice isn’t easy to obtain. How about you add two more yuan?”
“And you know how complicated the process is. Even working nonstop for a week, it might not be finished.”
That was true. The process was incredibly tedious—even a chef didn’t go through so many steps. But medicinal preparation had to follow traditional methods; otherwise, the toxicity wouldn’t be properly reduced. If patients were harmed, it would be no small matter.
The old pharmacist thought it over. The hospital sold the medicine for much higher prices anyway. Eight yuan did seem a bit low.
“Alright, ten yuan for five jin. Not a bit less.” He chuckled, opened his cigarette pack, and lifted one to his nose, savoring the smell.
Qin Laidi left happily and rushed back to the market and black market, buying several pig gallbladders at a very low price. The stuff was even more bitter than coptis, and since no one wanted it during slaughter, it didn’t even require ration tickets.
When Qin Guihua heard that her granddaughter had earned five yuan by working with those bitter, foul-smelling things, she confirmed it over and over before finally believing it.
“You’ve finally put that cleverness of yours to good use.”
Just then, Wang Lifen arrived with a smile.
Qin Laidi’s heart skipped—finally, it was here.
“You don’t come without a reason, Auntie.”
“Oh, don’t worry—this time it’s definitely good news. Very good news!”
Ever since Laidi cured Fifth Aunt Cui’s jaundice, the team leader Li Benfen had taken notice. With Wang Lifen praising her constantly, talking about how hard life was for the Qin family and how rare it was to have someone capable among them, he gradually felt he should help her out.
Coincidentally, at a recent commune meeting, it was announced that the county would select literate young people from each production team for a barefoot doctor training program. Those who passed would receive certificates and be assigned to commune clinics.
Each team only had one slot. But in Wulidun, even a democratic vote would undoubtedly choose Laidi. After all, she had been treating villagers and giving out medicine for free for so long—no one else could compete.
In the past few years, due to political upheaval, many doctors had been sent away. Only recently had things begun to recover, but there was still a severe shortage of medical personnel, especially at the grassroots level.
If Qin Laidi passed the training and became a doctor with state rations, the entire production team would benefit.
It’s here… it’s finally here!
Qin Laidi could hardly contain her joy. In her previous life, this very opportunity had set her on the path to medicine. Back then, the training had been in Lenghe Town. She knew farming wasn’t a long-term solution, so she had deliberately built her reputation by treating people.
Her medical skills were sufficient, but without proper credentials, she could easily be reported for illegal practice. This was the chance she had been waiting for.
“Thank you, Auntie. I’ll prepare well and won’t let you or Uncle down.”
Wang Lifen left happily, humming as she went.
Studying was important, but work couldn’t be delayed. That afternoon, Laidi changed out of the clothes she had worn while handling rabbits, washed her hands and face with soapy water, and entered the pigsty.
On the way, she also packed something for He Liansheng—a bundle of dried honeysuckle and herbs. They cleared heat and detoxified the body, soothed the liver, and improved vision. They weren’t valuable, but they wouldn’t harm anyone. More importantly, they served to let others know—he was taken.
Liao Zhixian was surprised. He had expected cured meat or smoked chicken, but it turned out to be just a small bundle of wildflowers weighing barely over two jin.
“You don’t have to worry about me carrying it. Why not bring more?”
Qin Laidi shook her head. She wasn’t foolishly romantic. Her own family didn’t even have enough to eat—bringing luxury food as gifts would probably cost her dearly.
“It’s nothing special. Just a small token from the countryside.”
Liao Zhixian nodded, removed his glasses, and wiped them. The lenses were scratched, and one arm was nearly broken, tied together with string.
“Brother Liao, how bad is your eyesight?”
Without his glasses, his delicate features became clear. For years, people had called him “Four-Eyes Liao.” Others who came later had married or settled down, but he remained single.
In an era where labor determined survival, no family wanted their daughter to marry a man who seemed neither capable nor useful.
“I don’t know the degree. My vision suddenly worsened not long after I came here. I just got a pair in the county. It’s probably gotten worse over the years.”
Back then, glasses weren’t precisely fitted, and people didn’t regularly check their vision. As long as they could get by, it was enough.
Qin Laidi remembered that in her previous life, after the college entrance exams resumed, Liao Zhixian was the only one from the production team to pass. But he failed the physical exam due to poor eyesight and lost his chance.
She sighed and held up three fingers in front of him. “Can you see this?”
He squinted, then widened his eyes. “Four?”
She was shocked. At such a close distance, he still couldn’t see clearly. No wonder he failed the exam.
“Brother Liao, if you don’t mind, may I check your pulse?”
She felt his condition was too unusual. Even rapid worsening shouldn’t be this extreme.
Liao Zhixian agreed. But as soon as she took his pulse, she frowned.
“Is it… serious?” he asked nervously.
She shook her head, but her expression remained tense.
“If it’s serious, I won’t treat it. My younger sister is sick—I can’t stop her medicine.”
Instead of answering, she asked, “Your vision problems started suddenly seven years ago when you came here, right?”
“Yes.”
“Think carefully—did you have a fever around that time?”
After some thought, he nodded. “Yes. I had a high fever for three days after arriving. Medicine didn’t help.”
“And after that?”
“It went away on its own, but…”
“But every afternoon, you’d have a low fever that gradually increased, then faded by night. Right?”
“How did you know?!”
He stared at her in shock.
He had never told anyone—not even doctors.
“That’s what your pulse shows,” she said. “And after the fever disappeared, your vision worsened, correct?”
“Yes. I went to the county hospital, got medicine, but it didn’t help.”
Qin Laidi sighed. This wasn’t myopia—it was neglect caused by poverty.
“Brother Liao, I’ll be honest. I can treat your condition—but you must stop wearing your glasses.”
“What? Without them, I can’t even walk properly!”
“I can cure it.”
“But what about my work points?”
“I can cure it.”
“My family—”
“I can cure it.”
“….”
Liao Zhixian stared at her, stunned. Then realization struck.
“You mean… you can cure my eyesight?”
“Yes. Not only can you take off your glasses now—you won’t need them ever again.”