Daming: Brother, there is no future for monks, let's rebel

Doctor Li entered carrying a bowl of medicine, his expression grave: "Your Highness, I have added Artemisia annua and Scutellaria baicalensis. Although this medicine is bitter, it can reduce fever and clear toxins."

Zhu Han nodded and took the bowl himself.

"I'll feed them."

The old woman hurriedly knelt down: "Your Highness, how can this be—"

"The child doesn't know who I am, he only knows that someone is feeding him," Zhu Han said calmly.

He fed the child the medicine spoonful by spoonful.

The bitter taste filled the air, and the child frowned, but was powerless to resist.

The people outside were silent, with only the soft popping of the fire.

After a long silence, Zhu Biao said in a low voice, "Uncle... if Heaven will open its eyes, I wish for a wind to rise tonight."

Zhu Han put down the medicine bowl and said softly, "Even if Heaven is blind, people still need to cook."

In front of the bonfire in the quarantine area, Dr. Li and several young apprentices were busy at work.

The medicine was being simmered in a pot, thick smoke billowing out, the aroma of herbs mingling with the scent of earth, bittersweet in its flavor.

"Add more firewood, don't let the fire go out!"

The village women carried wooden buckets to fetch water and wiped the patients' foreheads; several young men were sent to cut bamboo and build new sheds.

Zhu Biao led his soldiers to distribute the medicinal soup, and at each place, he personally watched the patients drink it.

Shen Lu whispered to Zhu Han, "Your Highness, His Highness the Crown Prince has not slept for two nights."

Zhu Han gazed at that young figure, a thought stirring within him: "He needs to see this suffering with his own eyes to know what the world truly is."

Shen Lu was taken aback, and said softly, "Your Highness... you haven't slept for three nights either."

Zhu Han smiled but did not answer.

He walked outside the shed. The night was as dark as ink, and the distant mountains were blurred.

Suddenly, a horse's neigh pierced the darkness.

"It's a scout from Beishan!"

Before long, Xu Jin rushed in, covered in mud and water, clutching a medicine pouch tightly in his hand.

"Your Highness, the medicine has been brought back! Seven riders were lost, but the medicine is all here!"

Zhu Han took the medicine pouch, his eyes gleaming.

"Good! Seven lives lost, but they cannot have been in vain. — Send the order: prepare medicine for the entire front line, without sleep or rest!"

Night rolled in. Firelight illuminated every face.

Doctor Li, his hands trembling, threw the new medicine into the pot, the boiling sound like thunder.

A strange, refreshing fragrance filled the steam, unlike the previous bitterness, like hope rising from the earth.

"Your Highness!" Doctor Li's voice was hoarse. "This old man would like to try another ingredient—earthworm, which can clear the meridians and reduce fever."

Zhu Han immediately ordered a search.

Before long, several young men returned carrying bamboo baskets filled with tiny, muddy-colored insects.

The villagers gasped in surprise, but no one stepped back.

"This thing... can really save lives?"

While cutting the herbs, Physician Li said firmly, "Heaven and earth may have poisons, but they also have antidotes. Living things reside in the soil, and so do medicines."

He coughed and added in a low voice, "May Heaven have mercy on us."

Zhu Han didn't say anything, but simply stirred the fire even more vigorously.

When the first rooster crowed at dawn, the air in the ward finally changed.

A sick child woke up from a deep sleep, coughed a few times, and was able to sit up on his own.

His mother could hardly believe it; she touched her child's forehead and saw that the fever had subsided.

"Your Highness! Your Highness! He's awake! His fever has gone down!"

The sound traveled beyond the fence and echoed throughout the entire camp.

A commotion erupted from the crowd, a cacophony of cries, laughter, and prayers.

Zhu Biao walked over quickly and saw the child drink the water and reach out for rice porridge. He was stunned.

He turned around and saw Zhu Han standing calmly amidst the embers of the fire.

"Uncle... the medicine is working."

Zhu Han nodded: "Li Langzhong is a meritorious official."

However, the epidemic did not end. New patients were still being carried in from neighboring villages.

This time, the symptoms were more severe; the lips turned black and breathing became weak.

Doctor Li frowned and wiped the sweat from his forehead: "This virus is deeper; it's probably entered the bloodstream."

Zhu Han asked in a deep voice, "Can he be saved?"

"There is a method, but it is dangerous."

"explain."

"The medicine is fumigated with fire and the steam is introduced into the body. The medicine is bitter and strong, but if a person can endure it, there is a 70% chance of survival."

Zhu Han nodded: "Let's try."

So, a large shed was sealed off and turned into a temporary medicine room.

The water in the pot was boiling vigorously, and the medicinal smoke was rising.

The patient was placed in a medicine shed, surrounded by bonfires, filled with the aroma of medicine, and the air was scorching hot.

One by one, people coughed up black phlegm, their sweat pouring down like rain.

Some screamed in pain, while others fainted.

Zhu Biao, standing outside the shed, was terrified by what he heard. He tried to rush in several times, but Shen Lu stopped him each time.

"Your Highness, the Prince has ordered that no one is allowed to enter. If the medicinal properties are leaked, all our efforts will be in vain."

Zhu Biao clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Finally, the curtain of the medicine shed was lifted, and a wave of heat rushed out.

Doctor Li staggered out, his face pale, still clutching a handkerchief in his hand. The handkerchief was covered in black phlegm.

"Your Highness, the medicine... is ready."

Zhu Han took the handkerchief, looked at it for a moment, and slowly nodded: "Okay."

Physician Li's knees buckled, and he knelt down, weeping, "Six people were saved, but three died. But these three were afflicted with a disease that had penetrated to the bone; it was not the medicine's fault."

Zhu Biao was squatting at the village entrance, helping a few children build mud bricks.

His clothes were already filthy with mud, his hair was covered in dust, but he had a smile on his face.

"Your Highness, can these bricks really be used to build a house?" a thin boy asked doubtfully.

Zhu Biao patted him with a smile: "Of course. You see, this mud needs to be mixed with grass and then dried in the sun for three days. It will harden even more than a rock."

The child opened his eyes wide and watched intently as he stirred the mud.

An old woman approached timidly and said, "Your Highness, with your noble status, how can you do such rough work?"

Zhu Biao laughed and said, "I'm human too. How can I know if this house can block the wind if I don't try?"

The old woman's eyes reddened, she bit her lip, knelt down and kowtowed: "Thank you Your Highness for saving my life! Thank you Prince for saving my life!"

Zhu Biao quickly helped her up: "Don't kneel. What my uncle and I did was just what we were supposed to do."

The old woman shook her head, her voice trembling: "No... if it weren't for the prince, we would all be dead long ago. That night, I heard the prince personally feeding the medicine outside the shed, and that's when I realized... there really are people in this world who are willing to risk their lives for the people."

Zhu Biao was taken aback.

As dawn broke, the morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the grass outside the fence was already soaked by the night rain.

The air was filled with a mixture of charcoal smoke and medicinal aromas, a bittersweet scent.

Zhu Han stood on the riverbank, his robes still on, a faint bluish tinge in his eyes.

The epidemic prevention tent was still steaming last night, the damp soil mixed with the medicinal soup, and the mud was covered with footprints of varying depths.

Shen Lu led several soldiers in counting the dead and wounded, his voice kept very low. Xu Jin stood to the side, wearing a heavy, wet cloak, his hair still damp.

"Your Highness," Shen Lu reported, "Last night, we brewed medicine three times, saving thirty-seven people and killing nine. Physician Li and his apprentice are both unharmed, but they are exhausted and need to rest."

Zhu Han nodded, but his gaze fell on the rice paddies in the distance.

Several villagers were digging to bury the body, and a few black crows were circling in the treetops.

He said in a deep voice, “The burial of these nine people must not be hasty. A memorial service shall be held for three days, and their family taxes shall be waived for one year.”

Shen Lu responded and was about to leave when Zhu Han called him back.

"Order the army to copy down the method of preparing the medicine last night, and record the heat, dosage, and symptoms. Tomorrow, Doctor Li will make a clear copy, seal it, and send it to the capital."

Shen Lu was slightly taken aback: "Your Highness, is this to be presented to the Emperor?"

Zhu Han nodded slightly, his voice calm: "The epidemic has not ended in this village. If it breaks out elsewhere, this method may save lives."

Shen Lu's eyes showed respect, and he bowed and left.

At midday, sunlight shone through the thin mist onto the campsite, turning the muddy ground into a pale gold hue.

Zhu Biao was squatting in front of the bamboo frame, shaving bamboo strips with a shaving knife. Several children surrounded him, watching with great interest. "Your Highness, these bamboo strips are bent, not straight."

Zhu Biao smiled and took it, then bent it with his hand: "If the bamboo isn't straight, it can be softened by heating it over a fire. Look—"

He placed the bamboo strips on the charcoal fire and gently roasted them. After a while, the bamboo softened and he pressed it onto a stone. After it cooled, it had formed a semi-circle.

"This can be used as a roof beam. Then tie straw ropes to it, and it will keep out the rain."

The child clapped his hands, his laughter ringing out.

Zhu Han watched from afar, his lips twitching slightly, a half-smile playing on his lips.

Shen Lu approached and whispered, "Your Highness, although the Crown Prince is young, he is quite popular."

Zhu Han said calmly, "What he needs to learn is not just how to win people's hearts."

He turned and walked towards the epidemic prevention tent.

Li Langzhong leaned against a wooden pillar, his face pale and his hands still trembling.

Upon seeing Zhu Hanlai, he struggled to get up.

"Your Majesty——"

"Sit down." Zhu Han raised his hand and pressed it on his shoulder.

"Thanks to you this time."

Physician Li smiled bitterly: "Your Highness is too kind. If it weren't for Your Highness holding up this camp, I would have been dead long ago. In that fire pit... I once thought I was going to die in the smoke of medicine."

"He died a worthy death." Zhu Han's tone was calm, yet it revealed a serene determination.

He took out a scroll and handed it to Physician Li.

"This is an old book from the Northern Mountain Herb Garden, recording the properties and flavors of hundreds of herbs and folk remedies. When Xu Jin brought it back, half of the book was lost in a fire, leaving only fragments. Do you think it's usable?"

Doctor Li took it, unfolded it, and examined it closely, his expression gradually changing.

"This...this is a copy of the 'Compendium of Materia Medica' from the previous dynasty? And it's in the hands of the prince?"

Zhu Han's gaze was deep: "What our predecessors discarded in the soil, I picked up on the road. This thing may be able to save the sick all over the world."

Doctor Li prostrated himself on the ground, weeping as he said, "If we could obtain this record, the epidemic could be controlled."

Night fell again.

A temporary lecture hall was set up in the camp, where villagers, soldiers, doctors, and apprentices all gathered.

The fire cast flickering shadows.

Zhu Biao and Zhu Han sat side by side, listening to Doctor Li explain the principles of herbal medicine.

"The key to using medicine lies in diagnosis. This disease originates from damp heat, which becomes toxic when it enters the blood. Artemisia annua clears heat, Coptis chinensis drains fire, and earthworm unblocks the meridians. However, although the medicine is bitter, it will be ineffective if the person does not drink it."

He paused, looking over the crowd.

"Therefore, a doctor cannot only understand medicine, but also people. He must know how to gain people's trust."

Zhu Biao listened, seemingly lost in thought.

Zhu Han gazed at him quietly for a moment, then said softly, "Remember this sentence."

"Uncle, do you mean—you understand people?"

"Yes." Zhu Han nodded. "To govern the world, one must first govern the hearts of the people. Medicine heals the body, and politics heals the nation; the principles are the same, but the methods differ."

Zhu Biao lowered his head, his eyes seemingly burning with fire.

The next morning, a messenger arrived from the eastern ridge with news.

"Your Highness, patients have appeared in all three villages of Dongling, and their symptoms are similar to those here."

Zhu Biao's expression changed: "Could it be that the epidemic has broken out again?"

Zhu Han frowned slightly, but was not surprised: "I had expected it. Last night the wind was from the southeast, and the plague spread with the wind, which was inevitable."

"Uncle, should we set up another rescue operation?"

"Save them," Zhu Han said firmly, "but we must not act rashly."

He turned to Shen Lu and said, “Issue the order: split into three groups. One group will carry medicine, another will carry clean water, and the third will carry burial supplies. Before entering the village, everyone must first fumigate their clothes with fire and drink three mouthfuls of medicinal soup. The dead must not be within three zhang (approximately 10 meters) of the village. The sick should be housed in separate sheds. Women and children should be treated first, followed by able-bodied men.”

Shen Lu accepted the order and left.

Zhu Biao watched the procession recede into the distance and suddenly asked, "Uncle, if the plague spreads to the prefecture, will the court be alarmed?"

Zhu Han turned his head to look at him and said indifferently, "What's the use of shaking? If we only shake it a few times in the Golden Palace, the people will still die."

Zhu Biao remained silent.

A few days later, Dongling Village.

The air was thick with the smell of plague; the grass and trees withered and turned yellow; and the barking of dogs was mournful.

Zhu Han personally led his troops into the village, setting up incense ash lines along the way to mark the boundary.

A village ancestral hall was converted into a temporary clinic.

Li Langzhong directed everyone to distribute the medicine, while Shen Lu arranged for a fire to disinfect it.

Zhu Biao accompanied him and witnessed firsthand the villagers huddled in the corners of their houses, their faces ashen.

He approached a young man and reached out to lift the corner of the blanket for him, but the man weakly pushed him away.

"Don't...don't touch me...I'm sick..."

Zhu Biao was stunned, then pursed his lips: "I know you're sick, and I'm afraid you'll die."

He fetched a bowl of medicine, squatted down, and fed it to him personally.

The young man trembled all over, tears mixed with medicine flowing from the corner of his mouth.

Seeing this, some villagers outside finally knelt down and cried, "Your Highness doesn't mind that we are sickly, we will no longer hide!"

Zhu Han saw this from outside the door, and his expression changed slightly.

He turned to Shen Lu and said calmly, "If he can continue like this for three days, the plague in this place can be quelled."

Shen Lu sighed softly: "Your Highness is kind-hearted, but the Prince is heavy-hearted."

The next day at daybreak, Zhu Biao pushed open the door and entered.

"Uncle, the night wind has stopped, and more than half of the villagers have recovered from their fevers."

"Very good." Zhu Han put down his book. "Where is Physician Li?"

"He went to the west wing to prepare soup for several seriously ill patients."

Zhu Biao sat down, looked at the medicine cauldron on the table, and asked curiously, "Uncle, this cauldron is quite peculiar."

Zhu Han smiled faintly: "A gift from Beishan. This cauldron can keep the fire stable and prevent it from burning, and it can also prevent the fragrance of the medicine from dissipating."

"Can it be used to refine alchemy?"

"Not metal or stone. But a tool to refine the human heart."

Zhu Biao was puzzled, but Zhu Han remained silent, only looking out the window.

Three days later, the epidemic subsided.

Good news spread throughout the three villages of Dongling, with more and more people being born.

The villagers spontaneously erected a monument at the village entrance, inscribed with the four characters "Zhu Wang Saves the Village". Zhu Han, however, ordered one character to be chiseled off and changed it to "People Save the Village by Themselves".

"Why does Your Highness want to change this?" Zhu Biao asked.

Zhu Han said slowly, "If everyone in the world waits for someone to save them, when will the world ever be at peace?"

Zhu Biao remained silent for a long time before saying in a low voice, "Uncle, I've remembered it."

At night, Zhu Han climbed the hillside.

The wind rustled through the treetops, and moonlight spilled onto the damp ground.

Shen Lu, who was accompanying him, asked, "Your Highness, shall we return to the capital to report next?"

Zhu Han shook his head: "Although the epidemic has temporarily subsided, its root cause has not been eradicated. I will travel for another month to thoroughly investigate the source of the disease and then report back."

"But His Majesty has already issued three decrees urging us to return."

“My elder brother knows my nature, and he must know my intentions.”

Shen Lu dared not say more.

Zhu Han stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the lights at the foot of the mountain in the distance.

Seven days later, a military report suddenly arrived—a strange phenomenon had occurred in Xiling Village: the bones of the dead were not incorrupt and black blood was flowing on the ground.

After examining the patient, Physician Li's expression changed drastically: "Your Highness, this is not the old plague, but water poisoning!"

Zhu Han immediately ordered an investigation. Three days later, it was discovered that the water in Xiling Well was contaminated because a dead cow had fallen into the well, and its putrid blood had entered the water, which the villagers had all drunk.

“If we had delayed any longer, the whole village would have perished,” sighed Doctor Li.

Zhu Han said in a deep voice: "Seal the well immediately, dig a new source, and divert clear water from upstream into the village."

Shen Lu exclaimed in surprise, "That will take ten days!"

"I have a way."

He took out a celadon medicine cauldron, ordered it to be placed beside the well, burned some grass, and added medicine to boil the water. Smoke rose and the aroma of medicine filled the air.

"The medicinal vapor in the cauldron can purify the water poison. After seven days, you can drink it again."

Doctor Li's eyes widened in surprise: "This method...I've never heard of it before." (End of Chapter)