Chapter 26: The Last Road Left

“All except yesterday’s,” Doctor Ni said, stroking his beard with some satisfaction.

Zuo Shaoyang smiled awkwardly. He was beginning to understand why the man was telling him this.

“I have formulas for that condition myself,” the physician continued at leisure. “They have always worked. Yesterday was the exception. One such case in more than thirty years! I may never meet another in what remains of my life. You want me to spend ten taels on a prescription I’ll probably never use. In my place, would you?”

Now Zuo Shaoyang understood. His heart sank completely.

“Not every life-saving formula commands a high price. It depends. A unique remedy, unknown to anyone else, that can frequently save lives? I’d pay a hundred taels, never mind ten. But yours addresses a difficulty I’ve encountered once in thirty years. To speak plainly, even failing to cure it does little damage to my reputation. What physician claims to cure every disease?”

“You have a point.”

Zuo Shaoyang nodded.

“Then if you want a life-saving formula you can use often, Guizhi Hall has those too. Tell me what you want. I’ll sell you one, unknown to anyone else, exclusively yours, at a fair price.”

Doctor Ni burst out laughing.

“Why laugh? I mean it! Don’t you believe I have them? Or that they work? You can try them. If they fail, I’ll repay you double.”

“No need.”

The smile vanished. Doctor Ni stood.

“If you had asked a few hundred wen for the first formula, curiosity might have persuaded me. Instead you opened with ten taels. Now you offer exclusive rights to other commonly useful life-saving remedies. I understand your purpose well enough. I have no interest in Guizhi Hall’s so-called secrets. Good day.”

He swept his sleeve and headed out.

“Wait!” Zuo Shaoyang followed. “You really don’t believe I have them? Or that they’re effective?”

“Frankly, no.”

Without turning, Doctor Ni said coldly, “If you possessed such formulas, would your shop lack money? Would you need to sell them here?”

Laughing, he strode away.

Zuo Shaoyang stood stunned.

The argument was unanswerable. A bald physician proclaiming a secret cure for baldness would convince no one.

They did not know his prescriptions came from the modern world, not Guizhi Hall. But how could he tell them? Who would believe him if he did?

Only results could convince them.

An idea struck him with enough force to make him start. Absurd though it seemed, he had no choice left.

An assistant appeared in the doorway, arms folded, watching him coldly. Zuo Shaoyang snorted and went out.

In the hall, Doctor Ni was already seeing a patient behind a large carved table. Zuo Shaoyang strode over and leaned towards him.

“Very well, Doctor Ni. I’ll prove it. You’ll see whether our family’s formulas work—and whether they can save lives.”

Doctor Ni stroked his beard and regarded him coolly.

“I shall be watching.”

Zuo Shaoyang swept out.

Back at Guizhi Hall, his father sat like a wooden statue, hands inside his sleeves. Huixiang had come and was sewing with Madam Liang in the bedroom, both looking miserable.

He went directly to his father.

“We can’t sit here waiting for disaster. We must find a way to earn money.”

“What?”

Zuo Gui slowly raised his head. In just these few days, his wrinkles seemed deeper and more numerous.

“If patients won’t come to us, we need another way.”

“What way?”

“Take to the streets as travelling doctors.”

Such practitioners carried medicine chests through the countryside, treating patients from village to village. They were also called wandering or country physicians. Most announced themselves by ringing a bell, which gave them the common name “bell doctors”.

“Travelling doctors?”

Zuo Gui stared, smiled bitterly and slowly lowered his head.

Madam Liang and Huixiang came out.

“I don’t think that will do, Zhong,” his mother said.

“Why not?”

“Your father is getting on. Tramping from street to street, in this bitter weather…”

“I’d go alone, but I’m too young. People don’t trust my medicine. They trust him. He’s an old physician. If he can put his pride aside and go to them, surely that’s better than waiting here.

“Besides, the deadline is the day after tomorrow. Madam Zhao means what she says. She won’t give us longer. Once we’ve lost the shop, we’ll have to travel for work anyway. Father won’t go to Hou Pu’s. Why not begin now, earn something and rent another room? We can’t sleep in the street on New Year’s Eve.”

Zuo Gui stirred. It was all true.

He raised his head, yet after a lifetime, taking up a carrying pole and going round as a wandering doctor was hard on his pride.

Zuo Shaoyang understood.

“There’s no time to hesitate, Father. Is it disgraceful? Hua Tuo and Bian Que travelled too. What’s shameful about that? If you can’t face it, follow well behind me. I’ll carry the medicines, ring the bell and find patients. You need only come over when someone asks for treatment. I’m young. I’ve a thick skin. I don’t mind.”

When he had searched for work after university, his first attempts had embarrassed him. A few experiences had toughened his skin.

And what was shameful about earning an honest living? No stealing, no robbery. It was no different from a pedlar making his rounds.

Zuo Gui began to waver. He looked at his wife, his daughter and the empty shop.

After New Year’s Eve, they would still have to live somehow. He would not depend on his son-in-law and had no other skill. Sooner or later he would have to go out with a medicine chest.

Better sooner than later.

“Would anyone… ask us to treat them?”

“Of course! You saved that woman yesterday when even Huimin Hall couldn’t. That alone will bring people to you.”

The reminder warmed his father. Travelling practice would chiefly mean sores, swellings, colds and coughs. He could manage those. And if he had mastered yesterday’s difficult case, surely some divine power watched over him.

At last he swallowed hard and stood.

“Very well. We’ll go together.”

Madam Liang knew this road had awaited them, though she could not make the decision for him. Now, through sorrow, hope rose.

“I’ll… get your things ready,” she said thickly.

The equipment was simple: a cloth sign, a chest of common medicines and a small bell.

Travelling doctors chiefly treated everyday illnesses. Remedies had to act quickly, preferably as ready-made pills or powders, so patients could buy and take them without decocting. A small stock would suffice, but it should cover as many needs as possible.

Madam Liang found a long strip of white cloth. Zuo Gui picked up his brush.

“What shall we write?”

“Something impressive enough to make people curious,” Zuo Shaoyang said. “Specialists in colds and coughs, loose bowels and diarrhoea, boils and swellings, infertility in men and women—and all kinds of difficult diseases.”

“Isn’t that rather long?” Huixiang laughed.

“It’s specific. People understand it. Write something elegant and literary and no ordinary person will know what it means.”

“True,” Zuo Gui agreed.

“‘All kinds of difficult diseases’—aren’t we claiming too much?”

“We must know how to advertise! Put that separately on the back, where it stands out. Besides, Father cured something Doctor Ni couldn’t. Surely that counts as difficult? We’re not making it up.”

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