Qi Yuan helped Yu Chunmiao carry the baskets. He wanted to lift the banana leaves covering them, but Chunmiao quickly pressed them down. “Don’t look—sunlight will ruin them.”
What was there to hide? Chunmiao didn’t mind—if it wasn’t to be seen, then it wasn’t.
Chen Ruolan spoke to Wang the butcher, who was driving the ox cart: “After selling the meat, wait here. We’ll be coming back. Extra person, eight yuan.”
Chunmiao was faster than her mother, pulling out the money before Ruolan could. Wang the butcher earned a little extra that way and agreed cheerfully.
Only Zhou Min remained on the cart. She glanced toward the clinic, then rode off quietly.
At the Yu Orthopedic Clinic, Dr. Yu was already waiting. “You’re here? Come in and lie down—I’ll take a look.”
Qi Chong nodded and entered a small partitioned room. Lifting the cloth curtain, he stepped inside. The rest of the family wanted to follow, but Dr. Yu sharply said, “Only one person at a time.”
Chunmiao raised her hand. “I’ll go. My mother isn’t well, my younger brother isn’t here—there’s only me.”
Dr. Yu sized her up and said, “Don’t be afraid.”
Afraid? She had seen a horse dissected before. It was just a broken leg—what was there to fear?
Chunmiao told her mother, “You and Qi Yuan go sell the goods first.”
Chen Ruolan agreed. Selling the items wouldn’t take long, so she and Qi Yuan left for the pharmacy.
The partitioned room was small, maybe seven or eight square meters, with a single bed against the wall and a square table beside it. On the table were Dr. Yu’s tools: hammers, saws, scalpels, thick needles like awls… Chunmiao swallowed nervously. She’d forgotten—they were in a time when medicine was crude and rough, not delicate.
Qi Chong set down his crutch and lay flat on the bed. Chunmiao quickly helped him remove his shoes.
When Dr. Yu lifted his pant leg, Chunmiao gasped. The external wounds had healed, but the flesh around the broken bone was pushed up, swollen and tense.
It must hurt like hell—how could Qi Chong act as if nothing was wrong every day?
“Endure it a bit,” Dr. Yu said calmly. Qi Chong nodded.
Dr. Yu pressed along the lower leg, from top to bottom, feeling the broken bone. Qi Chong’s lips trembled and his scalp twitched with pain.
Without X-rays, ancient medicine relied entirely on touch.
After finishing, Dr. Yu left. Qi Chong panted heavily, already sweating profusely, his chest and collar soaked.
Chunmiao wiped the sweat with her sleeve, frowning slightly. “If it hurts, just say so. Don’t hold it in.”
Qi Chong shook his head. “Shouting doesn’t make it hurt any less. Better to save my strength. If my mother hears, she’ll cry again.”
Since his father’s illness, his mother’s tears had been constant—ever since he fell ill, she had cried daily until his passing.
Qi Chong then turned to Chunmiao: “You shouldn’t stay here. It’ll be bloody.”
Seeing a snake had made her scared; this would terrify her.
Chunmiao, determined, said, “Don’t worry—I’m not scared. I’m fearless.”
Qi Chong didn’t believe her. Sitting up, he said seriously, “Chunmiao, I’m going to peel the skin and reset the bone. It’s terrifying. Just wait outside—come back only when it’s done.”
Chunmiao frowned lightly, gripping his hand. “What does it matter if it’s scary? You’re the one going through it. It’s better to have family nearby when things are tough.”
Qi Chong’s heart melted. He unconsciously clasped her hand, his soft, gentle eyes full of warmth.
Soon, Chen Ruolan and Qi Yuan returned. Seeing Dr. Yu preparing medicine outside, they called Chunmiao out.
Chen Ruolan handed her the money earned from selling pinellia: “Five taels, three hundred sixty-seven yuan. Count it.”
Chunmiao dropped the coins into the pouch. “What’s the point of counting? Let’s go home and buy meat.”
Qi Yuan had already figured out what they were selling while at the market. After living in the mountains for over a decade, he knew that even the wild herbs scattered across the hills could fetch a price. He couldn’t help but look at his new sister-in-law in a new light.
Dr. Yu prepared the medicine, instructing an apprentice to boil it, and then summoned two more apprentices to follow him into the partitioned room.
One of them carried a tray and immediately fed Qi Chong a bowl of the medicinal decoction, handing him a cloth to bite down on.
Dr. Yu lit the tools over a candle and explained, “This is Lengbi Soup—pain-relieving. I’ve increased the dosage, but it will still hurt. Endure it.”
Once the tools were ready, Dr. Yu gave the apprentices a subtle nod. They removed their shoes and climbed onto the bed—one holding down Qi Chong’s legs, the other pressing on his shoulders.
Chunmiao looked at him, confused. “Wait… isn’t there anesthesia? Didn’t ancient anesthesia numb the whole body?”
Qi Chong’s eyelids drooped slowly. He seemed to be dozing off.
Then Dr. Yu began the “surgery.” He cut open the healed skin, used tweezers to lift the flesh, and exposed the broken bone underneath.
Surprisingly, Qi Chong hardly reacted, aside from heavier breathing and furrowed brows.
But when the hammer struck the misaligned bone, the anesthesia completely lost its effect. Thankfully, the two apprentices held him down firmly—otherwise, he would have jumped right off the bed.
Qi Chong was jolted awake by the pain, enduring Dr. Yu’s relentless hammering on his bones.
His features twisted in agony. Sweat poured from every pore, veins bulged on his temples and neck, and the cloth in his mouth stained red. Even in such excruciating pain, he only let out a muffled groan.
Chunmiao crouched beside him, holding his hand tightly and constantly wiping his sweat.
Not just Qi Chong—Dr. Yu was also sweating profusely, completely focused. Chunmiao grabbed another cloth from the tray and began helping him wipe the sweat.
Dr. Yu paused for a moment, then nodded, letting her assist more directly.
Chunmiao ran back and forth, unsure how much time had passed, until finally the hammering stopped and Qi Chong fainted from the pain.
If only he had fainted sooner, he could have suffered less.
What came next left Chunmiao stunned. Dr. Yu used an awl-like tool to clean out fragments from the broken bone, tweezing away tiny shards.
It was delicate work. Chunmiao, despite the gory scene, persisted, wiping Dr. Yu’s sweat while he worked. He gradually adjusted his position to let her help more efficiently.
Even after Qi Chong passed out, the apprentices didn’t relax—they still held him down firmly.
Finally came the stage of dressing and bandaging. Chunmiao had done this before with horses, so she wasn’t scared at all, calmly wiping Dr. Yu’s sweat as he worked.
The black medicinal paste covered Qi Chong’s lower leg, wrapped in gauze and splints. Only then did the apprentices step down from the bed.
The entire procedure took over two hours.
When Dr. Yu left the partition, another apprentice brought a bowl of clean water and cloths for him.
Chen Ruolan and Qi Yuan approached anxiously. Before they could speak, Dr. Yu said, “Qi Chong has strong bones. Keep up the medicine schedule at home. When he wakes, give him a bowl of preventive fever medicine and then he can go home.”
“Can we see him?” Chen Ruolan asked, eager.
Dr. Yu nodded, “Go, but don’t cry.”
Though the treatment was finished, the blood-stained bed and hammer shocked mother and son. Chen Ruolan couldn’t bear it and covered her mouth to hold back her tears.
Qi Chong’s face was pale, his clothes soaked through, making her heart ache.
Meanwhile, Chunmiao counted the coins and weighed them at the counter. “Five taels and seven cents. I’ll give you two hundred seventy yuan in change. Dr. Yu said he won’t charge a consultation fee, only the medicine for six days. Two doses for fever, only if it occurs. Six doses for pain, take each morning before breakfast. Six doses for strengthening muscles and bones, take each evening before dinner. One jar of bone-healing paste, change every three days, plus two rolls of gauze. Here you go.”
Chunmiao thanked him and carefully packed the medicines into the basket. She was deeply grateful that Dr. Yu didn’t charge a consultation fee.
After all, he could treat injuries for free, but medicine costs couldn’t be ignored. The clinic was large, with seven or eight apprentices working in the front hall—it wasn’t easy maintaining such a staff.