Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 1 Getting the Medicine

In Qingyang County, on the ninth day of the fourth month of the third year of Chunhe.

As noon approached, the Ji'an Hall on the east street of the county town was packed with people.

There were women carrying children to see a doctor, porters clutching their stomachs and sweating profusely, and two well-dressed elderly men sitting on a bench at the back, waiting for their turn while talking about how the price of rice had recently increased by two coins.

The smells of medicine, sweat, and voices were all mixed together.

Behind the counter, the shop assistant was looking down at the abacus, the beads clicking and rattling, while he recited the names of the medicines.

"Astragalus membranaceus 2 qian, Atractylodes macrocephala 1.5 qian, roasted licorice root 1 qian..."

"Next."

A tall, thin boy carrying an old bamboo basket stood outside the door for a while. Upon hearing this sound, he quickly walked over and placed the neatly folded prescription on the counter.

"Please get the medicine."

Without looking up, the shop assistant picked up the prescription, glanced at it, and casually said, "Three doses, eighty-seven coins."

The boy's Adam's apple bobbed when he heard the amount. He didn't immediately take the money, but instead asked in a low voice, "What if I take two sets first?"

The waiter then looked up at him.

The boy was only eight or nine years old. He wasn't short, but he was thin, and his clothes were old. His cloth shoes were worn down, with mud clinging to the edges, clearly indicating that he had come from the countryside.

The guy couldn't stand these peasants, and his smile faded.

"The prescription says three doses. If you take one less, the medicine will be less effective." He put the prescription on the counter. "If you ask me if it will work, I will naturally say no. But if you really can't afford it, taking one dose or two doses will be the same. Whether the patient gets better or not is up to fate."

These words weren't harsh, but in a place like a pharmacy, with people coming and going, everyone could understand the meaning behind them.

The woman holding the child glanced in their direction, and the man in line behind her also turned around to look.

The boy's expression didn't change much, but he tightened his grip on the bamboo basket.

His name is Lu Chuan.

People from Liuhe Village, ten miles outside Qingyang County.

Early this morning, he drove Lu Laoqi's oxcart from the village into the city. Before dawn, he was already sitting on the cart, enjoying the cool breeze all the way. When he arrived in the county, he didn't even have time to drink some hot water before heading straight to Ji'an Hall.

It's not for any other reason than my father is sick.

I've been coughing since last month, and these past few days I haven't been sleeping well at night. A few days ago I could still stand in the yard, but these past two days I haven't even been able to get out of bed. The village's barefoot doctor came to see me and said that the spring chill has damaged my lungs, and if I don't take medicine soon, it will probably get worse.

The prescription is fine, but his family simply can't afford it right now.

Lu Chuan touched his pocket, where there was an old cloth bag containing a handful of copper coins. Before he left, his mother counted them three times, totaling sixty-one coins, and carefully wrapped them tightly in layers of cloth before stuffing them into his pocket.

Twenty-six coins were missing.

Seeing that he hadn't said anything for a while, the waiter became impatient and tapped the table.

"Should we arrest them or not?"

Lu Chuan raised his head and said, "Grab two first."

"Alright." The shopkeeper picked up the prescription again, grunting, "Two doses, fifty-eight coins."

Lu Chuan took out a cloth bag from his pocket, unwrapped it layer by layer, took out three copper coins, and placed the rest on the counter.

The waiter had already turned around and gone to get the medicine.

He looked at the clerk dispensing the medicine and asked, "If I can raise some more money this afternoon, could I get the third dose?"

The shop assistant was weighing astragalus with a small scale when he heard this and said, "If you have the money, you can naturally take the medicine. But once the medicine is distributed, it can only be weighed according to what's left. There's no reason to save some for you first."

"Understood," Lu Chuan nodded.

The pharmacy clerk may be sarcastic, but he's quite efficient with his hands.

Before long, the two doses of medicine were wrapped up, tied into two bundles with rope, and placed on the counter.

"Hold on tight, don't drop it."

Lu Chuan took the medicine and carefully placed it in the bamboo basket.

Just as he reached the door, the waiter behind him seemed to remember something and called out to him, "Kid."

Lu Chuan turned around.

The shop assistant pointed to the counter and said, "If someone in your family is really too sick to get out of bed, I advise you to find a way to get the remaining dose. Astragalus and Atractylodes won't kill you if you're missing a dose, but if you're always so stingy, it will wear you down."

Lu Chuan hummed in agreement, picked up the bamboo basket, and went out the door.

The county town was already hot in April, and the sun was so bright that it was hard to open your eyes. Shops lined both sides of East Street, selling cloth, rice, and needles and thread, one after another. The streets were bustling with people carrying loads, driving carts, telling stories, and selling wontons.

Lu Chuan had no interest in these things. He carried the bamboo basket and walked quickly toward the city gate.

Before they had walked even half a street, they ran into Lu Ershuan, a fellow villager.

Lu Ershuan was a few years older than him and worked as a day laborer at a grain store in the county. He was carrying half a sack of coarse rice on his shoulder. When he saw him from afar, he called out, "Chuanzi."

Lu Chuan stopped: "Brother Ershuan."

Lu Ershuan unloaded the coarse rice from his shoulder, wiped his sweat, and looked at the medicine basket in his hand, then at his face. He lowered his voice and asked, "What are you still doing here? Hurry up and go home, something happened at your house."

Lu Chuan's heart sank: "What happened at home?"

"Your eldest uncle went to your house." Lu Ershuan looked around and, seeing that no one was paying attention, moved closer. "Not only your eldest uncle, but also two clan elders were there. Just before I entered the city, I saw them all heading into your alley. Your mother looked very unwell."

Lu Chuan frowned: "For what?"

"What else could it be for?" Lu Ershuan clicked his tongue. "Your father is sick, the family has little land, and the medicine costs are piling up. Didn't your family just borrow half a bushel of grain from the clan last month? I reckon it's mostly for this reason."

As he spoke, he lowered his voice even further.

"I also overheard your uncle saying something like, 'We can't keep worshipping it like this.' Chuanzi, you should go back and check on it. I think this time, it might be a big deal."

Lu Chuan listened and understood what was going on.

Their branch of the family was never considered a respectable family within the clan.

His ancestors had once been wealthy, but unfortunately, by his grandfather's generation, the family had fallen on hard times. By the time it was passed down to his father, all that was left was three acres of meager land and a mud house. If they weren't still registered under the surname Lu and were a branch of the clan officially recorded in the family genealogy, they wouldn't even be able to borrow grain from others.

Seeing that he didn't speak, Lu Ershuan advised, "Don't be stubborn. If it's really about borrowing grain and money for medicine, you should humble yourself first. Your father's body can't take any more trouble."

Lu Chuan nodded: "I know."

After saying that, he picked up the bamboo basket, turned around and walked towards the city gate, his steps even faster than before.

After passing through the city gate and walking for about half an hour, Lujia Village was just ahead.

The village wasn't big, with about a hundred households, all surnamed Lu. At the village entrance stood an old, crooked locust tree, where several idle men usually squatted and basked in the sun. But today, strangely, only an old man with no teeth was there, holding a rough porcelain bowl, squinting as he peered into the village.

Lu Chuan felt increasingly uneasy and quickly entered the village.

As soon as I turned into my own alley, I heard arguing coming from inside the courtyard.