Chapter Fifty-Five: Bridging the Distance

Long before dawn, while her younger brother Zhou Shaocheng was still deep in sleep, Tan Yunxian had already administered “Sleeping Sage Powder” to him, fully anesthetizing his body. According to Tan Yunxian, the anesthetic she’d prepared would keep Zhou Shaocheng unconscious for three full hours—ample time for the surgery to be completed and his pain to subside.

Since the Han dynasty, when Hua Tuo invented “Ma Fei San,” anesthetic medicines had seen great improvements by the Ming dynasty, their effects now significantly stronger and more reliable.

Once all preparations were complete, Tan Yunxian arranged for only Zhou Zhi to remain in the inner room. The others, like Madam Zhou and Zhou Luyun, were sent to wait in the kitchen or the courtyard. After all, as womenfolk, they were thought unsuited to witness the blood and incisions of surgery.

Madam Zhou’s eyes were already brimming with tears, her heart lodged in her throat. As she left the room, she turned to Zhou Zhi and said, “Zhi, you must take good care of Shaocheng. Oh, my poor child, how has he come to suffer such torment?”

Though her words were directed at Zhou Zhi, much of it was meant for Tan Yunxian’s ears. Tan Yunxian’s expression remained tranquil as ever. She glanced at Madam Zhou and replied, “Auntie, please rest assured. I shall do all I can.”

No doctor ever makes absolute promises, but Tan Yunxian’s words alone showed her deep confidence.

The room fell silent. Tan Yunxian smiled gently and said to Zhou Zhi, “Zhou family brother, in truth, when I operate, it’s rare for anyone to stand by and watch. Most cannot bear the sight of blood, and I am quite used to performing such surgeries alone. If you would rather not witness this, you need not stay.”

“It’s nothing. Should you need any help, I can lend a hand,” Zhou Zhi replied.

Tan Yunxian neither agreed nor refused. She took a paper packet from her small medicine chest and unfolded it. A pungent, almost acrid scent instantly filled the air.

“Achoo!” The smell made Zhou Zhi sneeze, though he stood at some distance. Tan Yunxian, apparently expecting this, turned to him and said, “This medicine is unique to my Tan family. Although the smell is strong and unpleasant, its effects are excellent. It is also an anesthetic, mainly composed of Sichuan aconite, wild aconite, southern star, pinellia, and Sichuan pepper. Your brother has already taken ‘Sleeping Sage Powder.’ With this as well, his pain after surgery will be greatly lessened.”

Tan Yunxian was not one for idle chatter, but today, for reasons she herself could not explain, she found herself speaking at length to Zhou Zhi—even sharing details of her family’s unique formula. Zhou Zhi found this rather curious.

While Zhou Zhi was thus distracted, Tan Yunxian deftly retrieved a half-foot-long razor-sharp knife from boiling wine, wiped it clean, and in one swift motion, drew it across Zhou Shaocheng’s lower abdomen.

The incision was a slender cut, about half a foot long. Bright blood welled up at once.

Though the wound was on his younger brother, Zhou Zhi felt as though it was his own heart bleeding, the pain twisting cruelly inside him. That night, when he’d smashed Ni Desheng’s ribs with an axe and chopped off four of Liu Wa’s fingers, Zhou Zhi had not so much as flinched, as if he were slicing melons or chopping vegetables.

But this beloved younger brother was his Achilles’ heel, the very core of his heart. Zhou Zhi’s face grew taut and stern, his gaze fixed intently on Tan Yunxian’s every move.

Now, at last, Zhou Zhi understood why Tan Yunxian had spoken at length about her medicines earlier—she’d been trying to distract him from the ordeal. This Tan physician was not without her own subtle cunning.

Tan Yunxian’s skill was as impressive as expected. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, she had completed the appendectomy and gently stitched the wound with silk thread soaked in medicine.

Through it all, Zhou Shaocheng lay quietly on his back, unmoving, his breathing steady and soft.

Once the wound was sewn, Tan Yunxian’s expression remained serene as she said, “He’ll wake in two more hours. Don’t let him eat for several days—only give him water. The surgery went well; in a few days your brother should be walking again, and he’ll never suffer from twisting colic again in his life.”

Zhou Zhi had been watching in silence from the side, his heart in his throat. Only now, hearing Tan Yunxian’s words, did he finally allow himself to relax.

Tan Yunxian stepped slowly outside. The courtyard was crowded with people.

Madam Zhou and Zhou Luyun hurried over, their voices anxious. “Physician Tan, was the surgery on Shaocheng successful?”

Tan Yunxian nodded calmly, her face composed.

The two women barely remembered to thank her before rushing inside to see Shaocheng. Seeing his cheeks tinged with a healthy blush as he slept peacefully, mother and daughter finally felt reassured.

Some of the villagers, their curiosity irrepressible, tried to push into the house, but Tan Yunxian stood at the door and stopped them.

Her voice remained gentle and soft. “No one may enter. The patient needs rest now—he must not be disturbed.”

With his mother and sister inside, Zhou Zhi stepped out to stand behind Tan Yunxian, nodding quietly in admiration. This was a true physician—she understood the importance of preventing infection, something few in the Ming era even comprehended.

The term “infection” might not have existed yet, but Tan Yunxian clearly recognized the danger.

Zhou Zhi could not help but thank her repeatedly, but Tan Yunxian’s face grew stern. “Brother Zhou Zhi, I’ve told you before—no need for thanks. To heal the sick and save lives is a doctor’s duty. I am a physician. It is my purpose to treat the people.”

Since meeting Tan Yunxian yesterday, not even a day had passed, yet she had always been calm and unhurried, a quiet, composed woman. She rarely showed much expression, but this was the first time she had spoken to Zhou Zhi so firmly.

Yet Zhou Zhi rather liked being addressed this way—it meant she considered him a true confidant.

He pulled a funny face and grinned at her. “Sister Tan is right. I’ll remember that!”

Though Tan Yunxian was about the same age as Zhou Zhi’s mother, she always addressed him as “brother,” so he simply called her “sister” in turn—it made things feel much closer between them.

At this, Tan Yunxian couldn’t help but let out a gentle laugh.

“Zhou Zhi, is your younger brother really cured?” the villagers called, unable to enter the house.

“Physician Tan is a great doctor of our time! How could she not cure my brother?” Zhou Zhi replied loudly, his chest puffed with pride.

The villagers murmured in amazement, and soon someone called out, “Physician Tan, my child hasn’t been eating for days. Could you come take a look?”

Tan Yunxian agreed without hesitation, glancing back at Zhou Zhi with a faint smile. “Brother Zhou, as I’ve said, I should be the one thanking you. Were it not for you, how would the people of Baiyue Village ever have trusted me?”