Dad, don't be greedy! My brother climbed into the emperor's bed, and I became famous overn

The atmosphere in Kyoto changed early the next morning.

On the main street of the four cities, a group of soldiers rode in on horseback.

The sound of horses' hooves pounding on the bluestone slabs was rapid.

The lead cavalryman had a bamboo sprayer strapped to his back.

With the nozzle facing downwards, white mist billowed out from the nozzle in rhythm with the horses' running, spreading along the street.

The fog rolled low along the ground, like a thin layer of cloud, and in an instant it enveloped the entire long street.

The cavalrymen following behind sprayed in turn, one team after another, and the smell of disinfectant quickly filled the morning breeze.

The smell was somewhat pungent and had a bitter taste.

The people stood at the door, looking around.

At first, I was a little scared, thinking that the soldiers were spraying some kind of poison.

After all, during major epidemics in the capital of previous dynasties, the government took measures to prevent the disease from spreading.

All the patients will be taken away and their bodies burned.

The people living along the street nervously retreated into their houses and closed their courtyard gates.

A nimble young man ran out into the street to gather information.

My eyes lit up immediately when I saw the words "Pujitang Disinfectant" on the disinfectant jar.

"It's from that charitable hall! It can kill the plague! Don't be afraid, everyone!"

That shout was more effective than any notice.

Word spread, and the panic subsided like the receding tide.

"Have you heard? Imperial Physician Xue is personally overseeing the southern part of the city and has even requisitioned the epidemic prevention team from Puji Hall!"

"They also have masks to protect against the disease! They cost only one penny each! Wearing one can save your life!"

"It can save your life?! For a single penny? Really?"

"I'd be a dog if I lied! The people from the Imperial Medical Academy said it themselves!"

The Imperial Medical Academy set up temporary sales points at the four city gates of Kyoto, and long queues formed before dawn.

The queue at the sales point in the east of the city was the most exaggerated; it stretched from the city gate all the way to the tofu shop, turning two corners in total.

A mask costs one coin, which is no more than the price of two sesame cakes for ordinary people.

But if something can save your life, then its value is on a completely different level.

The Imperial Hospital staff and all patrolling soldiers each had a mask.

The staff of Pujitang all wore them.

They didn't get infected with the disease. With such a living example in front of us, who would still doubt the protective ability of masks?

As a result, face masks suddenly became a hot commodity.

Someone bought ten at once, giving one to each member of the whole family, and keeping the rest as treasures.

Once you put it on, you don't want to take it off.

When eating, you have to take it off carefully, fold it neatly, and put it aside, for fear of getting it dirty.

One vegetable vendor went even further, tying her mask around her neck with a red string and wearing it wherever she went, even after taking it off.

By noon, the first batch of 50,000 masks had sold out.

The four sales points sold out almost simultaneously, leaving later customers disappointed and anxiously pacing around in circles.

"Is there any left? When will there be more?"

The constable shouted at the top of his lungs, "There's another batch coming tomorrow morning at Chenshi (7-9 AM)!"

The crowd reluctantly dispersed, glancing back several times as they left.

Su Wan's textile workshop worked day and night to keep up with demand.

The female workers, earning triple pay for working overtime, were more motivated than ever. Su Wan herself rolled up her sleeves and personally joined in cutting fabric.

One of the female workers muttered to herself as she sewed, "Can this really keep out the air?"

The coworker next to him didn't even look up: "Who cares? It's only one penny apiece; we're doing good deeds."

Gu Mingyue stood at the window on the second floor of Yitang, looking at the busy scene below.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a long shadow of her.

On the windowsill sat a bowl of herbal tea that had gone cold; it had been brought up by Shi Buji that morning.

It was said that Dr. Fang instructed the landlord to drink it as a preventative measure.

Gu Mingyue disliked the bitterness and didn't drink it.

But Yi Wu was very stubborn and followed her.

They forced her to drink the bowl of bitter medicine.

It turned out that a carrier pigeon had flown over and landed on the eaves.

Yi Wu went out to collect carrier pigeons.

Gu Mingyue opened the system panel and glanced at the accounts.

[Revenue from mask sales: 53 taels of silver. Automatically recorded in the "Operating Revenue" section.]

Gu Mingyue glanced at the sales revenue figure.

More than 50,000 masks were sold for a total of only 53 taels of silver.

It didn't even cover the costs.

But she didn't care about that income at all.

What she cares about is that these 50,000 masks are being worn on 50,000 faces.

Every mask is a thin barrier between the living and the dead.

A commotion suddenly broke out outside the door.

Gu Mingyue stood up and walked out the door.

"What happened?"

Gong Huo ran into the yard and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Oh, Miss. Some commoners have brought a wooden sign from somewhere and put it outside our ancestral hall."

Gu Mingyue asked curiously, "What did you write?"

"The Bodhisattva saves the world, and all calamities disappear."

Gu Mingyue: "..."

She strode up to the second floor of the front yard.

Opening the window, one can see long queues of people waiting for medical treatment in the streets and alleys below.

A wooden sign, taller than a person, was indeed erected in front of the ancestral hall.

The handwriting on the sign was poor, with strokes of varying thickness, as if it had been written with a stick dipped in ink.

It reads: "Bodhisattva saves the world, all calamities disappear."

Every stroke was executed with great effort.

People passing by stopped to watch; some bowed with their hands clasped, while others knelt down and kowtowed.

An old man with gray hair, who had just received his medicine from the backyard, knelt in front of the wooden sign and kowtowed three times.

When she stood up, her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was muttering to herself:

"Thank you, Bodhisattva, for saving the world! Otherwise, how could my family afford that expensive tangerine peel cough medicine that costs ten taels of gold per pound!"

An old woman behind him also bowed.

"My husband's life was saved by someone else!"

Gu Mingyue watched this scene from the second floor, feeling somewhat gratified.

Shi Buji stood in the lobby on the first floor, directing the staff to brew and distribute the medicine.

Looking at the wooden sign at the entrance and at the people kneeling and kowtowing, my eyes welled up with tears.

The guys were even more motivated.

The imperial physicians in the back courtyard were addressed as "Bodhisattvas" by the common people.

They work in three shifts.

After my shift ended, I went to sleep in the next room, fully clothed.

Sometimes I don't even have time to eat.

But the feedback and gratitude from the people were exhilarating.

At this moment, the imperial physicians were like soldiers guarding the battlefield.

Everyone had bloodshot eyes, and their wrists were sore and numb from taking pulses.

My fingertips trembled slightly as I rested them on the patient's wrist, not from nervousness, but from exhaustion.

But no one asked to switch shifts and take a break.

The youngest apprentice in the Imperial Medical Academy, a boy of only seventeen or eighteen, was so sleepy that he leaned against a pillar and dozed off.

The first thing I said when I woke up was, "Next."

The old doctor next to him patted him on the shoulder without saying anything.

At that moment, they felt their own value in the world.

It wasn't about mechanically copying prescriptions and preparing pills in the Imperial Medical Academy, nor was it about nervously taking someone's pulse in front of a noble person.

Instead, it is what the people truly need.

They experienced the weight of life.

Every life is precious.

It's worth trying to save it.