xymnovel Chapter 21 Experiment Successful
Chapter 21 Experiment Successful
Yin De acted quickly.
Less than half an hour later, a jumble of footsteps, mixed with meows and barking, filled the study with chaos.
"Tenth Master, this servant has brought the things." Yin De's voice came from outside the door. "Three cats and four dogs, all half-grown and sturdy. As you instructed, they are kept in cages."
"You've worked hard." Yin'e patted Yin De on the shoulder. "Take them all to the woodshed in the backyard, and have someone bring a table, an oil lamp, a basin of water, and a few clean white cloths to the woodshed."
Yin De responded and beckoned several servants to carry the cage to the backyard.
He stayed behind, moved closer, and lowered his voice, saying, "Tenth Master, I've found out about what happened with Ninth Master."
Yin'e's eyes narrowed: "Speak."
"Ninth Master is quite ill. This servant found an acquaintance of Ninth Master's, who is in charge of purchasing in the kitchen, and we have some connections."
He said that Ninth Master had been unable to get out of bed since yesterday morning. His left big toe was swollen like a radish, and was so red that it was almost purple. He couldn't even touch it.
The imperial physician came to see me and prescribed some medicine, saying it was to dispel wind and cold, and promote blood circulation and remove blood stasis, but it didn't work after I drank it.
Ninth Master was in so much pain that he couldn't sleep all night. He was in a terrible temper, had already broken half the porcelain in the room, and had even fired two of the maids who served him.
Yin'e nodded.
"Okay, you can go ahead and get busy. Make sure everything is ready in the woodshed. I'll be there in a bit."
Yin De responded and turned to leave.
Yin'e returned to his study and placed the small porcelain bottle on his person.
"We need to test the dosage first."
The woodshed is located in the most secluded corner of the backyard. It is usually used to store odds and ends and firewood, and few people come here.
A space has been cleared out, with a wooden table, an oil lamp, a basin of water, and several neatly folded white cloths on it.
Seven bamboo cages were lined up against the wall. The cats and dogs inside had quieted down considerably; some were lying down sleeping, while others were curiously looking around.
Yin'e sat down at the table, took out the small porcelain bottle from his sleeve, and then took out a small silver spoon from his bosom.
"Try the smallest dose first." He unscrewed the stopper of the porcelain bottle and used the tip of a silver spoon to dab out a little of the paste.
These portions were pitifully small, about the size of half a grain of rice.
He walked up to the cage where the tabby cat was kept and held the tip of the spoon under the male cat's nose.
Cats are sensitive animals. Upon smelling an unfamiliar scent, they immediately become alert, prick up their ears, take two steps back, and stare at him warily with their amber eyes.
"Good boy, have a little." Yin'e moved the tip of the spoon closer, almost touching the cat's lips.
The tabby cat hesitated for a moment, then stuck out its pink tongue and tentatively licked the tip of the spoon.
It suddenly pulled its head back, shook its head, then meowed and shrank into the corner of the cage, frantically wiping its mouth with its paws.
Yin'e stared at it intently.
One minute, two minutes, three minutes.
The tabby cat showed no abnormalities.
"fine."
Yin'e breathed a sigh of relief and wrote on the paper: Cat, half a grain of rice dose, no adverse reactions.
Then, he picked out a paste-like substance about the size of a grain of rice from the porcelain bottle and walked to the cage where the yellow dog was kept.
That yellow dog was much bigger than the cat, so it should be able to tolerate a larger dose.
He smeared the paste on a white cloth, stuffed it into the dog's mouth, pinched its upper and lower jaws, and forced it to swallow it.
The yellow dog struggled a couple of times, making gurgling sounds in its throat, but eventually swallowed it.
Then came the waiting.
The dog reacted much faster than the cat. After about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, the yellow dog began to pant heavily, its tongue lolling out, and saliva dripping from the corners of its mouth, falling drop by drop to the bottom of the cage.
Its eyes turned red and its body trembled slightly, as if it had a fever.
Yin'e's heart was in his throat.
He quickly stepped forward and reached out to touch the dog's forehead, which was burning hot.
I touched the dog's belly again, and it was burning hot.
"Poisoned?" His mind went blank.
But the yellow dog did not vomit or have any convulsions.
It was just breathing heavily, but seemed to be in good spirits.
"Is...it alright?" Yin'e muttered to himself uncertainly.
He waited for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
The yellow dog's symptoms did not worsen; instead, they gradually lessened.
Most importantly, it didn't die.
Yin'e let out a long breath and wrote on the paper: Dog, one grain of rice dose, developed fever, drooling, and panting, which subsided after about 15 minutes, with no death.
He glanced at the remaining paste in the porcelain bottle, then at the cats and dogs in the cage still waiting to be tested with the drug, and gritted his teeth.
"Try again, this time with a larger dose."
He then picked out a paste-like substance about the size of two grains of rice from the porcelain bottle and fed it to another dog.
This dog reacted much more violently than the first one, and began vomiting violently in less than half a cup of tea's time.
He vomited everything in his stomach, and after vomiting, he collapsed to the ground, groaning weakly, unable to even stand up.
Yin'e's heart leaped into his throat again.
But the dog didn't die either.
After it vomited, although it was weak, its breathing was steady, its heartbeat was normal, and its eyes were bright.
Half an hour later, it actually stood up shakily, walked to the water basin, drank a few mouthfuls of water, then lay back down and fell into a deep sleep.
Yin'e wrote on the paper: "Dog, two grains of rice dosage, vomited and weak, but did not die, recovered after about an hour."
"Two grains of rice is the limit," he thought to himself. "Any more and it might kill the dog."
He tried it again on a cat, feeding another cat a dose equivalent to one grain of rice.
The cat reacted more violently than the dog, but did not die. It took more than half an hour to recover.
Based on these experimental results, Yin'e roughly concluded that the effective dose and the toxic dose of colchicine were very close.
The safe dose for dogs is about one to two grains of rice; more than two grains of rice can be dangerous.
Cats are more sensitive; the safe dose should not exceed half a grain of rice.
Humans are much larger than dogs, weighing several times or even ten times more, and theoretically can withstand much larger doses.
But to be on the safe side, he decided to limit the dosage to about two grains of rice for Lao Jiu, which would ensure the effect without poisoning him.
Two grains of rice.
He silently repeated the number three times in his mind, then picked out two grains of rice-sized paste from the porcelain bottle and wrapped them in a small piece of white cloth.
It was carefully placed into a clean little porcelain bottle.
He sealed the remaining paste and hid it in the deepest part of his desk drawer.
The cats and dogs in the woodshed gradually quieted down; some fell asleep, while others lay there lost in thought.
The dog that had vomited had even started wagging its tail, and when it saw Yin'e walking over, it stuck out its tongue and licked his hand.
"I'm sorry." Yin'e patted its head, feeling a little guilty. "I'll have someone give you extra food later to help you recover."