Wei Chang, gripped by emotion, clutched his elder aunt, who was in a cold sweat from the pain. "A few days ago, I pulled many strings but could only get a little alcohol. Applying it was useless; the wound still festered and was getting worse. It was only then that I called, thinking it might be our last meeting... Jing Shu, I can't thank your family enough! Your uncle will remember this favor."
Without medicine, with such a large, infected wound festering and the flesh rotting away, what else could be done but wait for death?
The elder aunt, embarrassed, lowered her head. "Quick, get some apples for everyone to eat."
Wei Chang then went to the cellar and brought back some shriveled apples. "They've been stored a bit too long, but we'll make do."
