Chapter 60: Medicine for the Eyes

Zuo Gui was enjoying his conversation when Shaoyang entered. He stood.

“Come outside with me.”

In the open space before the house, he asked, “I hear you came last night and changed the medicine?”

“Yes.”

“To what?”

Shaoyang explained what had happened and the prescriptions he had used. The maxim about stopping a highly toxic medicine when six parts of the illness were gone had appeared among the corrections to the handwritten books. Zuo Gui had paid it little attention then. Applied to an actual case, it now made sense. He nodded repeatedly, stroking his beard.

His suspicions of the old travelling physician eased somewhat. The teaching was not wrong; his son, and he himself, had applied it poorly. A master could lead one through the door, but further progress depended on the pupil. Understanding medical texts mattered. Memorising them blindly was useless.

He questioned Shaoyang closely about the reasoning behind the change, finding it novel and developing renewed respect for the supposed teacher.

After their discussion, they returned inside. Zuo Gui had not finished his earlier chat and, with nothing pressing, wanted to continue. Shaoyang had no desire to listen to his father range over every subject under the sun. He wanted to visit Peilan’s home. With a word to Zuo Gui, he took the medicine chest and followed the village’s stone path there.

Last time, he and his father had treated her mother for externally contracted cold damage without knowing it was Peilan’s house. Now he recognised it. The four children were again sitting outside in the sunshine.

The winter sun offered little warmth. Clouds and a lingering haze screened it, while gusts of cold seemed to penetrate the bones. Staying indoors would have been better.

He bent towards the children.

“Is your sister Miao Peilan at home?”

A boy of seven or eight looked up, his lips split by the cold.

“She’s gone to cut wood. You’re a physician. What do you want her for? Is someone ill?”

“You remember me?” Shaoyang smiled.

“You came to treat Mother a few days ago.”

“That’s right!”

Their thin clothes and pitiful appearance moved him.

“It’s the second day of the New Year. Why don’t you give me New Year greetings? I’ll give you gift money.”

“Really?” they cried.

“Yes. I only have six wen, which is awkward to divide. The older ones should give way to the younger: one each for the two older children, two each for the little ones.”

“Yes! Yes!”

They sprang up and began to kneel. He caught them quickly.

“No kowtows. Just bow.”

Grinning, they bowed and poured out a jumble of auspicious wishes. Shaoyang laughed and took out the six wen his father had given him the day before, handing a coin to each child. Delighted to find the gift real, they could scarcely close their mouths.

When he reached the youngest, he noticed the child rubbing his eyes repeatedly. Both were red and watering.

“Don’t rub. Let me see.”

He caught the little arms and crouched to inspect them. The eyelid margins were swollen, red and ulcerated. His heart tightened. Wind-fire eye—without prompt treatment, it could lead to blindness.

“Your eyes are ill. Rubbing will hurt them. I’ll put some medicine on.”

He set down the chest and was about to take something out when a woman called from inside.

“Who is it?”

“The physician who treated you with the bamboo stick, Mother! He’s looking for Sister.”

A lame woman hurried out: Peilan’s mother.

“You’ve come, young physician! Come in and sit down. Peilan went to the mountains early. She should be back soon. Sit and wait.”

The older boy held up his coin proudly.

“Look, Mother! He gave us New Year money!”

“Oh, you mustn’t!”

She limped over, caught the boy’s arm and shook it.

“They work hard walking from village to village to earn a few coins. How can you just hold out your hands? Give it back!”

She reached as though to seize the money, but the hand became a slap, delivering two pats to his bottom. Raised high, it landed as lightly as though brushing away dust.

“Come on, give it back! Aren’t you listening?”

Seeing that she had not actually taken their coins, the children held them tightly and looked between her and Shaoyang, unsure what to do.

“It’s all right,” he laughed. “Only a few wen. A little New Year token when I visit.”

At that, she released the boy, rubbing her calloused hands, red and swollen as carrots.

“How can we accept… Really, how kind… Children, hurry and kowtow to him!”

“They already gave their greetings.”

Shaoyang rested a hand on the youngest child’s head.

“These sores round his eyes need treating quickly.”

“Yes. His sister said she’d take him to town. But the money… They say it costs so much to treat this. Where could we find it?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll treat him free.”

She was delighted. She did not really trust the young physician’s skill, but since he offered without charge, she could hardly demand the older physician instead. If it failed, she could ask him later, when it would be easier to raise the matter.

Bowing repeatedly, she smiled.

“Thank you! You really are kind-hearted.”

Shaoyang smiled and selected borax, borneol, calamine and xuanming powder, intending to prepare White Dragon Powder, Bai Long Dan. This external formula came from the Ming *Standards of Patterns and Treatments*. Its ingredients needed to be levigated with water into an extremely fine powder for application to the eyes. It was effective for wind-fire eye, corneal opacities and pterygium.

But after opening the box of powders, he stopped. They were far too coarse. Some particles were as big as sorghum grains. Sprinkled into an eye, they might injure it. The powder had to be exceptionally fine.

Of the four ingredients, borax, calamine and xuanming powder—the weathered powder of mirabilite—were minerals. They required special processing such as calcining and water levigation. Pounding alone could never produce the necessary fineness.

Unable to use them as they were, he put them back and took out some dandelion.

“My medicine needs more processing at home. For now, decoct this and use the liquid to steam and wash the eye area. It should help. Next time we make our rounds, I’ll bring another medicine that works better.”

“You’re taking so much trouble!”

She accepted it with a broad smile.

“How fortunate our Peilan is to know someone as kind as you!”

Shaoyang smiled awkwardly. Before he could answer, a girl’s voice sounded behind him.

“Physician Zuo?”

He turned. Peilan stood nearby, a large load of wood on her shoulders.

“Yes. Auntie Li and Master Jia’s boy are both better. Father says we’re not leaving until noon, so I had nothing to do and came to see you. Your mother said you’d gone woodcutting.”

“Peilan!” her mother said happily. “Physician Zuo gave your brothers and sisters New Year money. He examined Erzi’s eyes too and says he’ll find good medicine at home to treat him.”

Peilan had two younger brothers, Dazai and Erzi, and two younger sisters, Ercao and Sancao.

She lowered her head, carried the wood behind the house and put it down. After wiping her sweat, she returned and glanced at Shaoyang.

“How much for the medicine?”

“Nothing.”

She looked at him, went inside and soon returned with her purse, which she held out.

“Really, there’s no need. It’s only a little medicine.”

“Other shops charge.”

Her meaning was clear: if he refused payment, she would take her brother elsewhere. Her mother had already mentioned doing so. The purse stayed extended.

He knew she was stubborn and proud, unwilling to accept charity.

“The medicine for Erzi is something I make myself,” he said with a rueful smile. “It should work well. But Father’s rule is that we only take payment when the treatment helps. Can we leave it until he’s better?”

She knew the rule and nodded.

“How much?”

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