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墨書 Inktalez
Next to the medicine furnace, an old man is using iron tongs to pick up medicinal herbs. His movements are skilled and precise, and every action appears very natural.
Yan Qing approached, and the old man looked up, revealing a gentle smile.
"Little sister, do you want to help?" The old man's voice was deep and powerful.
Yan Qing nodded, her gaze determined. "Yes, I don't want to just stand by."
The old man nodded and gestured for her to come over. "Alright, pay attention. The dosage of these medicinal herbs must be precise, and the timing must be just right. If you can learn this, you will be able to save lives."
Yan Qing concentrated on observing intently, her hands skillfully handling the medicinal herbs under Old Lin's guidance.
In a corner of the wooden house, Yan Qing sat shoulder to shoulder with the old man, the former's gaze closely following every subtle movement of the old forest.
Lao Lin's fingers shuttle among the medicinal herbs, moving skillfully like an experienced physician. He picks up a piece of astragalus and gently places it in the mortar.
"Astragalus, tonifying qi and securing the exterior. For those with deficient constitution, it can boost vitality," Lao Lin's voice is calm and wise, his gaze through the reading glasses, fixed on the young apprentice.
Yan Qing listened with fascination, her heart filled with a thirst for knowledge. "So, what about people with a cold constitution?"
Lao Lin smiled slightly, lightly flicking a small red flower with his fingertips. "Those with a cold constitution should avoid things like ephedra that are too pungent. On the contrary, safflower can promote blood circulation, dispel stasis, and warm the body, but it should also be used in moderation to avoid excessive heat."
Yan Qing nodded, her eyes shining with the light of learning. Lao Lin continued to explain, covering everything from the nature and flavor of each medicinal herb, to their mutual enhancement or inhibition, and then to how to combine them, leaving no detail untouched.
"And these," Lao Lin took out a few pale green leaves, "are Artemisia annua, which has remarkable efficacy for malaria. However, if used together with Coptis chinensis, it may weaken its effectiveness."
Yan Qing Listening to this, I can't help but think of those soldiers who were injured in the war. If she could master this knowledge, perhaps she could save more lives.
Lao Lin took out what seemed to be an ordinary herb again. "This is the primer, we call it the guiding medicine. Its medicinal effect is not strong, but it can guide other medicinal materials to penetrate the meridians and exert the greatest therapeutic effect."
Yan Qing flashed a hint of surprise in his eyes, "This is truly amazing!"
The old man smiled, "The mysteries of the natural world are endless, and there is much to learn. You will find that every plant, every leaf, has its own purpose."
Night falls, and the lights in the wooden house flicker. Yan Qing and the old man are still discussing pharmacology. The old lady listens quietly, a hint of contentment flashing in her eyes.
Yan Qing has finally found a new life goal, no longer immersed in emotional pain, and has begun to perk up.
Yan Qing's learning is not just theoretical; she has started to put it into practice by making medicine for the injured and preparing prescriptions. Whenever she sees the injured recover because of her prescriptions, an unprecedented sense of satisfaction wells up in her heart.
One day, a patient with a hot constitution was brought in, suffering from inflamed wounds and unbearable pain.
" Bei Lin'er, do you remember what kind of herbs should be avoided by those with a fever?" Lao Lin asked.
Yan Qing pondered for a moment and replied, "They should avoid warm and hot herbs like cassia twig and fresh ginger."
"Exactly," Lao Lin nodded. "Let's prepare a prescription for clearing heat and detoxifying."
Under Lao Lin's guidance, Yan Qing carefully selected the medicinal herbs, and her movements became more and more confident. When the prescription was finished and the patient took it, the painful expression gradually eased, and the redness and swelling of the wound began to subside.
At this moment, Yan Qing felt an unprecedented sense of achievement. She understood that she was not just learning how to make medicine, but also learning how to use her own hands to bring more hope and warmth to the world.
As time passed, Yan Qing's injuries gradually improved, and she began to help take care of other patients. She learned how to use medicine and how to bandage wounds.
As night fell, the lights inside the wooden house were bright. Yan Qing sat to the side, the needle and thread in her hand passing through the bandage, carefully bandaging a wounded person. Her movements became more and more skilled, and the hesitation and fear in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by a kind of determination and calmness.
" Bei Lin'er." A voice interrupted her actions, and she looked up to see Old Lin standing in front of her, his eyes deep.
Yan Qing stood up and respectfully bowed, saying, "Grandfather Lin."
Lao Lin's gaze swept over the wooden house, finally resting on her face. "During these days, what have you learned?"
Yan Qing fell silent for a moment, then said, "I have learned that no matter how cruel the world may be, there are always people who choose to persist in kindness. And I want to be that kind of person too."
The old man nodded, seeming satisfied with her answer. "I understand your intentions. If you are willing to learn, I can teach you more."
A determined look flashed in Yan Qing's eyes. "Grandpa Lin, I'm willing."
The first light of dawn breaks, and mist swirls around the temporary rescue cabin set up at the foot of the mountain, creating a scene reminiscent of a hidden paradise.
However, beneath this tranquil exterior, there is a hidden atmosphere of tension and heaviness.
Inside the rescue cabin, rows of bamboo beds are filled with war casualties. Their moans and cries are the most jarring dissonance in this paradise.
Yan Qing, or now Bei Lin'er, stood at the door of the wooden house, her gaze passing through the busy figures inside, and settling on the injured struggling patients. In her eyes, there was no longer the little girl who had come out at first, with only astonishment and panic in her eyes. Now, they were filled with bravery and compassion, sincerely concerned about the injuries of the patients.
A young man dressed in simple coarse cloth was slowly carried into the wooden house, his right leg wrapped in thick bandages, bloodstained, obviously a recent wound.
Yan Qing's heart suddenly tightened, she quickly stepped forward and asked softly, "What happened to this young man?"
A middle-aged doctor glanced at her, a hint of appreciation in his eyes. The young girl was now a member of Benevolent Pavilion, and her questions were no longer filled with doubt or panic, but rather genuine concern.
"Sister Ling'er, he was injured in last night's battle. An arrow pierced his leg, and we have treated the wound, but he has lost a lot of blood and his condition is not very stable."
Yan Qing nodded and walked to the bedside of the young man, gently holding his hand, trying to give him some comfort. The young man's eyes slowly opened, revealing a confused and pained look with a hint of a desire to survive.
"Don't be afraid, you will be okay," Yan Qing's voice was gentle and firm, her fingers lightly brushing the young man's forehead, dispelling the cold sweat.
The boy's lips moved slightly, emitting an almost inaudible sound: "Water..."
Yan Qing quickly picked up the nearby water bowl and carefully brought it to the boy's lips. The boy struggled to swallow a few mouthfuls of water, and a glimmer of clarity gradually appeared in his eyes.
"Thank... thank you..." The boy's voice was weak, but filled with gratitude.
Yan Qing shook her head gently. "You don't need to thank me, I'm just glad I could save you." There was no hint of pride in her voice, only equality and empathy.
The next day was still busy with medical treatment. Although the war had stopped for a while, it would take some time for the wounds on the people to heal.
" Sister Fei, this old man's wound needs to be cleaned," a young white-clad disciple carefully supported an old man and said to Sister Fei who was busy.
Sister Fei looked up, her eyes revealing fatigue, but her movements were gentle and delicate. "Be careful, his leg bone is cracked, so be gentle," she said as she walked over, the cloth in her hand soaked with cool medicinal water.
Yan Qing quietly observed the skilled and methodical movements of these White-clothed people, their eyes showing no hint of disgust or impatience, even when faced with bloody wounds. This was a scene she had never witnessed in the palace, and these people, their temperament was completely different from her original world.
" Bei Lin'er, how are your injuries?" Sister Fei asked with concern, after finishing her work and walking to Yan Qing's bedside.
Yan Qing smiled faintly, with a hint of bitterness in her smile. "Thanks to Sister Fei, I have recovered well these days."
Sister Fei gently patted her hand. "You, child, have suffered such serious injuries, yet you worry about others." There was a maternal tenderness in her eyes. "The people here are all innocent victims. We, Benevolent Pavilion, must do our best to treat them."
Yan Qing nodded, her gaze sweeping over the simple wooden house. There were no extravagant decorations or suffocating power struggles here, only the purest form of saving lives. "Sister Fei, the longer I stay, the more I feel that Benevolent Pavilion is truly an extraordinary place."
Sister Fei smiled slightly, a hint of pride in her smile. "This is our mission, and also our faith. Although Benevolent Pavilion does not concern itself with the disputes of the martial arts world, our medical skills and swordsmanship are all for the protection of these innocent people."
An elderly farmer, his legs tragically pinned under the collapsed roof stones in the war, can only emit painful groans at this moment.
The arm of a vendor was pierced by an arrow, and the blood on the arrow has dried up, showing the passage of time. A child under the age of ten, his eyes full of fear, with a wound on his forehead still oozing blood.
Yan Qing's heart contracted tightly, her hand gently touching her chest, as if this could calm the turmoil in her heart. She took a deep breath and forced her gaze away from these wounded, but the painful images had already been deeply imprinted in her mind.
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