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

Suddenly a family member came to report—

"Your Highness, Liu Tingchen, a student of the Imperial Medical Academy, requests an audience."

Zhu Han looked up, his gaze shifting slightly: "What's he doing here?"

"They said they were ordered to inquire about medicine."

Zhu Han pondered for a moment, then ordered, "Please come in."

A moment later, a middle-aged man in blue robes strode into the hall, his face respectful. This man was Liu Tingchen, the deputy director of the Imperial Medical Academy, known as the "genius of prescriptions," cautious and shrewd by nature.

He bowed and said, "This humble official pays his respects to Your Highness."

"No need for formalities. Please sit down." Zhu Han spoke calmly, picking up his teacup. "How are the Imperial Medical Academy officers doing these days?"

Liu Tingchen lowered his eyes and said, "His Majesty ordered medical departments in various regions to submit prescriptions, selecting the best ones for inclusion in the annals. However, there is one prescription, which comes from the folk in Xiling, called 'Qinghui Powder,' which is said to be remarkably effective and is rumored to be an old formula used by the Prince. His Majesty heard of this and ordered an investigation into its origin, and I dare not neglect this task."

Zhu Han remained silent, the aroma of tea wafting through the air.

"If I may be so bold as to ask," Liu Tingchen said in a low voice, "is this prescription truly the one passed down by Your Highness?"

Zhu Han slowly put down his teacup: "If I said no, would you believe me?"

Liu Tingchen was taken aback and hesitated before saying, "The 'People's Medical Records' established by Your Highness, though now forbidden, still circulate in the countryside. The court says that this method, which allows the people to be self-reliant, may disturb the people's peace. Your Majesty intends to rectify its name."

Zhu Han's gaze was profound: "To rectify reputation, one must first rectify the heart. If a doctor acts out of a desire for merit, it will bring disaster; if he acts out of benevolence, how can there be chaos?"

Liu Tingchen was speechless for a moment, and after a long while he sighed in a low voice: "Your Highness's words are wise. However, I am only following orders and can only act in accordance with the rules."

Zhu Han smiled slightly: "Go ahead. I know that things will come to an end. Let's not let a single medicine mislead the people."

Liu Tingchen took his leave. As darkness fell, Zhu Han stood with his hands behind his back by the window. Snow was approaching, and the bamboo grove rustled softly.

Three days later, an imperial edict was issued: the Imperial Medical Academy's proposal to abolish the system of private seals and return medical authority to the government.

Those who spread folk remedies must report and archive them; they are not allowed to distribute them privately.

This decree shocked all physicians in the land.

Rumors circulated that the prince's old laws would be completely abolished, causing the people to sigh with regret.

Upon learning of this, Zhu Biao immediately went to the palace to remonstrate. However, Zhu Yuanzhang did not grant his request.

“Biao’er,” Zhu Yuanzhang said calmly but with a sharp edge, “do you know that if this ‘People’s Seal’ remains, the people’s hearts will not belong to the government? I have spent ten years pacifying the country; how can I allow rebellious people to seize power in the name of benevolence?”

Zhu Biao knelt and kowtowed: "Father, the seal of the people is not for power, but for trust. Only if the world can save itself can there be lasting peace!"

Zhu Yuanzhang's expression suddenly turned cold: "Is this another one of Zhu Han's words?!"

Zhu Biao lowered his head and remained silent.

Zhu Yuanzhang's sleeve trembled slightly, and a flash of fire illuminated the hidden anger in his eyes.

He could only sigh and wave his hand, saying, "Step back. My mind is made up."

Zhu Biao left the hall, his heart feeling as if it were weighed down by a stone.

As night deepened, Zhu Biao rode out of the palace and headed straight for Zhu Han's residence.

As he arrived at the door, the bamboo shadows swayed, and the firelight shone through the window. Zhu Han was already waiting at the door, as if he knew he would come.

"Your Highness, did you come last night regarding the matter of the people's seal?"

Zhu Biao nodded, his expression anxious: "Father is determined, fearing that all medical knowledge in the land will fall into the hands of the government. If that happens, all of Uncle's years of hard work..."

Zhu Han raised his hand to stop him: "There's no need to worry about this."

"How can Uncle not be worried?!" Zhu Biao exclaimed excitedly, "If the folk remedies for healing are taken away, the illness will not stop, and the resentment will not cease!"

Zhu Han gazed at him quietly, then suddenly smiled: "Your Highness, do you know that the transmission of medical knowledge is like water flowing into the earth? You can seal off a river, but you cannot stop a spring. If the court wishes to prohibit it, it can only do so for a time."

Zhu Biao was stunned. Zhu Han continued, "I set up this seal in Xiling not to leave my name, but simply to keep watch. The prescription is in the person, and the heart is in the people. If there are truly healers in the world, there is no need to seek a seal."

"But Father Emperor—"

Zhu Han interrupted him: "Father is not evil, but fearful."

"fear?"

“I fear the chaos of the world, and I fear the change of hearts. My elder brother established the country with power, not benevolence. If benevolence precedes power, the country will be difficult to secure; if power precedes benevolence, the people will be difficult to keep at peace. If Your Highness succeeds to the throne in the future, you should remember this: power can quell chaos, but only benevolence can endure.”

Zhu Biao said in a low voice, "I understand."

Zhu Han smiled, as if sighing in the wind: "No, you don't understand."

"What does Uncle mean?"

What you remember is the principle; what you need to understand is the heart.

The following day, a storm brewed in the imperial court. Minister of Revenue Li Shanyan submitted a memorial:

"The privately-run medicine seals are a nuisance to the government and should be completely banned."

The Ministry of Personnel seconded the motion, and the Ministry of Justice requested that both be carried out concurrently. Zhu Yuanzhang slammed his fist on the table in court: "Granted!"

The assembled officials shouted in unison. Only Zhu Biao remained silent in the hall.

After the court session ended, Zhu Yuanzhang summoned Zhu Han to the palace.

"Brother, I have stripped you of your title and banned you from the law. Do you have any complaints?"

Zhu Han bowed and calmly replied, "I have no complaints."

"Why?"

“Brother, how could I not know of your difficulties? A doctor can save a body, but an emperor must save the world. My way of doing things cannot be practiced in the court.”

Zhu Yuanzhang remained silent. After a long while, a trace of weariness appeared in his eyes: "If you are not in court, I have no worries."

Night fell, the wind swirled the remaining snow, and the bamboo forest rustled.

Zhu Han stood by the window, gazing at the distant palace lanterns, his expression calm and serene.

He has been stripped of his title and banned from the law for half a month. His name is not recorded in the imperial court, and people dare not circulate "The People's Medical Records" anymore.

That belief, once etched throughout the world, was crushed into dust by an imperial edict. Yet the fire in his heart burned ever brighter.

Tea boils on the stove, and wisps of steam rise.

Zhu Han reached out and picked up an old prescription scroll. The edges of the paper were slightly yellowed. It was a record he made when he practiced medicine in Xiling in the past.

As my fingertips traced the words "Blue Ash Powder," a deep, mechanical voice suddenly reached my ears—

[Ding—Congratulations, host, for triggering the "Sinking Doctor Mission: Continuing the Way of Medicine for the People During a Time of Legal Restriction."]

[Mission Objective: To preserve three volumes of authentic medical teachings amidst the chaos of war, to spread the spirit of healing among the people, and to save hundreds of nameless individuals.]

[Reward: +100 Spiritual Consciousness Sign-in Points, and the "Soul Cleansing Needle Technique" scroll.]

Zhu Han raised an eyebrow slightly.

“System…you’ve found out again,” he muttered to himself.

After returning from Xiling, the system remained dormant for three years, and is now restarting.

In that instant, a faint light seemed to emerge from his palm, transforming into a wisp of warm energy that merged into his meridians.

"The Soul-Clearing Needle Technique..." Zhu Han closed his eyes for a moment, only to feel a flash of light in his mind, and countless fine needlework and meridian diagrams unfolded in his mind.

This was an acupuncture technique he had never seen before—using the mind as a guide, the breath enters the meridians, regulating yin and yang to capture the soul. A physician must be calm, sincere, and benevolent; the slightest selfish thought will disrupt the flow of qi and break the needle.

The next morning, the snow cleared.

Zhu Han put on his robe and left the mansion, without any attendants, carrying only a blue robe and a medicine box.

Smoke curled from the villages along the way, and the people who saw him were all terrified and avoided him—the imperial court had decreed that people were not allowed to privately worship "the old doctor with the seal of the people."

However, an old woman still came out to greet them, leaning on her cane.

"Your Highness, please have pity on my grandson! He has been unconscious with a fever for three days..."

Zhu Han glanced at her, his brow twitching slightly.

Behind the old woman, a thin child lay on a straw mat, his lips pale and his face bluish, his breath coming in short gasps.

He crouched down and felt for her pulse with his fingertips.

Heat toxins have entered the heart, disrupting the body's Qi flow. If we follow the old prescriptions, the medicine will not be effective.

Zhu Han took out the silver needles, and a faint light flashed in his hand.

"Soul Cleansing Needle Technique - First Form - Soul Breaking".

The needle pierced silently, and the airflow intertwined with the needle and thread. In an instant, the child's face turned from blue to white, and his breathing gradually stabilized.

The old woman knelt down and kowtowed in gratitude. Zhu Han smiled and left only a few herbs.

"Remember, this method is called 'Harmony of Mind'. When a person's mind is calm, all illnesses will disappear. The prescription has no name; the mind itself forms the seal."

He turned and left, his footprints sinking deep into the snow.

That night, the story of the "unmarked doctor saving the child" spread throughout the village, and the next day, more than a dozen people came seeking his treatment. Zhu Han did not refuse any patients, only saying, "Each of you should copy down your notes, but do not sign your name." Thus, anonymous medical manuscripts quietly circulated.

Several months later, rumors spread in the capital: "After the ban on private seals, 'heart prescriptions' have become popular in the market."

These "prescriptions" have no author or seal; they only describe medical principles and insights into saving lives.

When someone in the court reported this, Zhu Yuanzhang was furious and ordered the Embroidered Uniform Guard to investigate thoroughly.

Upon receiving the news, Zhu Biao's heart tightened.

He knew that his uncle had not stopped.

That night, he secretly visited Zhu Han's residence.

The moonlight was bright and clear, and the bamboo shadows swayed gently. Zhu Han was grinding ink with medicinal juice, and more than ten manuscripts were scattered on the table.

"Uncle, are you writing a prescription again?"

Zhu Han did not answer, but handed him a piece of paper: "Does Your Highness recognize this sentence?"

The paper reads: "With no imprint on the heart, all people can be healed."

Zhu Biao read it aloud in a low voice, then suddenly felt a jolt in his chest: "Uncle, this sentence... is it the seal you just erected?"

Zhu Han smiled: "It is not the seal, but the heart. The seal resides in the heart; how can it be forbidden?"

"But what if Father Emperor knew—"

“He already knows,” Zhu Han said calmly. “The Embroidered Uniform Guard has come three times, but has not entered.”

Zhu Biao was astonished: "Why?"

"Because I invited them for tea."

Zhu Han gently stroked the teacup, and the surface of the tea reflected a faint ripple of light, like a mirror lake.

"Your Highness, medicine and politics are based on the same principle. To treat illness, one must distinguish between yin and yang, deficiency and excess; the same applies to governing a country. If one only knows how to suppress, prohibit, and eliminate, it is like a fire attacking the heart, which will eventually consume one's own body."

Zhu Biao remained silent for a long time before saying, "Uncle, if the path of medicine is rejected by the country, how can one's conscience be at peace?"

Zhu Han raised his eyes: "If your heart is uneasy, then practice medicine to calm it. Medicine is in your hands, not in the imperial edict."

In March, an epidemic broke out in the south. Patients died suddenly in Hubei, Hunan, Jiangxi, and Jiangning.

The Imperial Medical Academy was helpless, and the medical schools' prescriptions offered no solution.

Zhu Yuanzhang was furious and summoned his ministers to ask for their advice. All the ministers evaded the question and dared not speak.

Zhu Biao petitioned, "I have heard that my uncle is a highly skilled physician and may be able to cure this epidemic."

Zhu Yuanzhang pondered for a moment, then said coldly, "His laws are not canonical."

“However, the diseases in the world are not necessarily the real diseases,” Zhu Biao replied.

Silence fell over the hall. Zhu Yuanzhang's gaze was sharp as a knife, and he finally sighed, "Summon Zhu Han to the palace."

That afternoon, Zhu Han entered the palace. Below the imperial steps, the golden bricks were cool to the touch.

Zhu Yuanzhang stared at him: "Brother, do you know why I summoned you?"

Zhu Han bowed slightly: "The epidemic has broken out among the people, and Your Majesty is worried about the country. I should do my duty as a doctor."

"I have banned your medical practice."

"Forbidden measures can be imposed, but how can the mind be forbidden?"

Zhu Yuanzhang's expression darkened. After a moment, he coldly snorted, "If this epidemic is not eradicated, I will punish you for deceiving the emperor; if it is eradicated, the right to practice medicine will return to the government and you shall not arbitrarily spread it."

Zhu Han bowed and said, "Your subject obeys."

That night, he entered the Imperial Hospital. The physicians stood around, all looking at him with strange eyes.

Zhu Han remained silent, but instead summoned the patient. The patient had a high fever, was delirious, and had an irregular pulse, appearing as if possessed by a ghost.

The doctor from the Imperial Medical Academy shook his head: "This is an evil plague, and it is beyond cure."

Zhu Han stared for a moment, then suddenly took out sixteen silver needles and dropped them with lightning speed.

"Soul-Cleansing Needle Technique, Second Form - Soul-Seizing and Yang-Returning!"

The needles gleamed, and breath swirled. A moment later, the patient opened his eyes and vomited a mouthful of black blood. Gasps of alarm filled the hall.

Zhu Han lit incense, covered the needles with the medicinal liquid, and smiled: "Evil cannot prevail over good, and medicine lies in the human heart."

The following day, the epidemic subsided. Within three days, news spread from various places that "the epidemic can be contained."

The people were grateful, and they secretly copied Zhu Hanfang's version again, calling it the "Unprinted Scripture".

Upon hearing this, Zhu Yuanzhang remained silent for a long time.

In March, the snow in Jiangning begins to melt.

The sky and earth were a gray-white expanse, with unmelted ice and mud piled up on the riverbank, and the wind swirling the branches of old willows, causing them to tremble slightly in the air.

Zhu Han wore an old blue shirt, his shoulders were covered with fine snow, and mud splashed under his feet, but his steps were steady.

Behind him were only a boy and a donkey cart.

The cart contained a medicine box, a frying pan, and several rolls of old paper. These were medical records he had brought from the Imperial Hospital, but no one dared to recognize them.

The villages along the way were desolate, with doors tightly shut. At each place, one could see white banners hanging above the doors and hear weeping coming from inside.

Zhu Han simply lowered his eyes and remained silent.

Upon entering the territory of Huguang, the epidemic worsened. The river water already smelled fishy, ​​and piles of ashes and burned straw mats lay on the banks.

The people avoided the plague as if it were a ghost, and would stay far away from any strangers passing by.

The boy couldn't help but ask, "Your Highness, are we really going into the village? A dozen or so people died in this village just a few days ago."

Zhu Han stopped, turned around and smiled faintly: "If no one goes in, who will save them?"

The boy dared not speak further.

He pushed open the door and entered the village; the courtyard was extremely quiet.

A breeze stirred the curtains, and sounds of coughing, groaning, and weeping drifted from inside the room.

Zhu Han knocked gently on the door. When no one answered, he pushed it open and entered.

The room was dimly lit, and an old woman was covering her daughter-in-law's forehead with a damp cloth.

Upon seeing Zhu Han enter, she jumped up in alarm, waving her hands repeatedly, "Don't come in! He's a patient! Don't come near!"

Zhu Han took off his bamboo hat and bowed slightly: "Mother, do not be alarmed, I have come to treat your illness."

The old woman froze, then burst into tears: "Doctor... what doctor would dare to come these days? The government says that private doctors are breaking the law, and anyone who comes will be punished..."

"If you don't come, you will be punished with your life," Zhu Han said slowly.

He lifted the cloth and saw that the woman's face was pale, her lips were dry as paper, and her breathing was shallow and disordered.

The pulse is weak and superficial at both the cun and guan positions, indicating that pathogenic heat is attacking internally and the qi and blood are about to be exhausted. Zhu Han pondered for a moment and then took out his needle pouch.

"Boy, fetch water to boil."

The boy responded. The snow water on the stove was just beginning to boil, and the white steam rose up, making the room look like it was shrouded in mist.

Zhu Han's fingertips trembled slightly as the needle moved with the flow of qi.

"Break the soul, gather the spirit, guide the vital energy back to the heart—"

The silver needles were inserted with a technique as smooth as silk. The woman's breathing gradually stabilized, sweat beaded on her forehead, and her lips changed from bluish to pale red.

The old woman knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly.

Zhu Han remained silent, but took out paper and pen and wrote down a prescription: three parts indigo, five parts forsythia, half a peppermint and half an angelica, decocted in water and taken three times a day. He wrote the words "Heart Harmony" at the end.

The old woman took it with trembling hands, choking back tears, and said, "Doctor, I want to have your name engraved on a plaque so I can offer sacrifices in gratitude."

Zhu Han shook his head: "I have no name. Just remember the two words 'Xin He' (heart and harmony). A doctor has no seal; a benevolent heart is the prescription."

That night, the wind was as fierce as a knife. Zhu Han and the boy spent the night in the village.

The crying outside continued all night, the fire in the stove glowed dimly, and smoke swirled around.

He spread the prescription book on his lap and wrote down the symptoms, pulse, and pharmacology of each case, his handwriting as neat as a scripture.

The boy, drowsy and sleepy, murmured, "Your Highness, aren't you afraid the authorities will investigate you for writing all this?"

Zhu Han didn't look up: "I'm afraid. But if I don't write it down, future generations will have nothing to learn from. Is it better to fear the death of one person than to mistakenly kill a hundred others?"

The boy silently shrank into the quilt, the firelight reflecting Zhu Han's profile, his eyes holding the cold light of unmelted snow.

The next morning, Zhu Han set up a medicine stall along the river, which he named "Hexinzhai".

He did not sign his name, but hung a wooden sign in front of his door that read, "Illness can be cured, do not let your mind be disturbed." (End of Chapter)