Chapter 2: The Unorthodox Path
The pale light of dawn filtered into the small, dusty clinic. Lin Wei awoke on his thin pallet, the system interface greeting him as his eyes opened:
"[Vital Signs Stable. Mild malnutrition detected. Protein intake recommended.]"
He sighed. Protein. A luxury in this era.
Old Gao, his servant, brought a simple breakfast of rice porridge and pickled vegetables. The old man's look of fear had been replaced by a mixture of reverence and concern. "Master Lin," he said cautiously, "since your fever broke... it's as if you've become a different person."
Lin Wei's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained calm. "A brush with death changes a man. It clarifies things," he replied, weaving a plausible explanation from the local beliefs. He needed to adapt, and fast.
He spent the morning with Old Gao exploring the small frontier town. The streets were muddy, lined with low, timber-and-earth houses. The air was thick with the smells of livestock, spices, and open sewage. The people looked weary and underfed, casting sideways glances at him, whispering about the "miracle" of his recovery. He noted the repaired sections of the town wall and the ragged but hardened soldiers patrolling it—this was a settlement living under the constant shadow of war with the Jin to the north.
The First Patient: The Carpenter's Abscess
Returning to the clinic, they found a carpenter supported by his apprentice. The man's forearm was swollen, red, and oozing pus. The stench was unmistakable. The system diagnosed:
"[Severe Staphylococcal abscess. Requires incision and drainage.]"
The traditional treatment was to apply poultices to "draw out the poison," with little success.
Lin Wei prepared his crude surgical kit: a thin blade boiled in water, clean cloth, and the strongest alcohol he could find—a harsh rice liquor.
"This will hurt," he warned, "but it will remove the root of the problem. I must cut out the rotten flesh and let the poison flow out."
The carpenter gritted his teeth and agreed. As Lin Wei worked, the system provided a subtle overlay, guiding his incision to the precise depth. He cleaned the wound thoroughly with the wine. The onlookers watched, horrified yet fascinated. He explained calmly as he worked, "The evil humors have gathered to form pus, like filth accumulating in a house. If you don't sweep it out, the sickness cannot leave." He finished by prescribing a local herb the system identified as having anti-inflammatory properties.
Days later, the carpenter's swelling had vanished. He was effusive in his thanks. Lin Wei's method of "cleansing and draining" began to spread.
The Second Patient: The Farmer's Wife's Pain
A farmer's wife came, suffering from abdominal pain and bloating, her face sallow. The system suggested:
"[Suspected intestinal parasitic infection.]"
The town's other physician had diagnosed "cold in the spleen and stomach" and prescribed warming tonics, to no effect.
Lin Wei asked detailed questions about her diet (she often drank unboiled water and ate unwashed vegetables). "This is not a cold imbalance," he stated. "This is caused by small worms in your gut." He had Old Gao find local herbs that the system said to have antiparasitic properties, like wormwood and quassia and gave a stern order: "From now on, you must boil all water and wash your hands before eating."
Skeptical but desperate, the woman took the medicine. Three days later, she passed a mass of parasites and her pain disappeared. She became another living testament to "Physician Lin's" strange but effective ways.
Through these cases, Lin Wei carefully introduced his new principles: Cleanliness, Accurate Diagnosis, and Observation. His reputation shifted from "eccentric" to "unorthodox, but it works." Yet, he was acutely aware of his limits. Without antibiotics or a sterile environment, a serious infection was a death sentence.