Chapter 23: Administering Medicine
The night was deep and still.
A faint candlelight flickered tremulously.
Qin Luoxia brought a wooden basin of water and wiped her son’s body, arms, face, and hands over and over again.
Jiang Changtian untied the cloth on his son’s forehead and discovered that the wound seemed to be rotting, emitting a faint, foul odor.
A normal wound would not be like this.
Even if injured by a dirty, blunt object, it would not fester this quickly.
Seeing this wound, Jiang Changtian quickly scanned his mind for various medicinal herbs.
But at this moment, he couldn’t recall any herb that could treat it.
Qin Luoxia did not wail; instead, she continued to use a cloth to wipe her son’s head, neck, body, and wherever he felt hot.
“Luo Xia, I am going to find medicine. Do not panic; he will be fine,” Jiang Changtian urged.
Yet, he dared not let his gaze fall upon his son.
He worried that if he looked one second longer, he would break down.
He could only stare at the candlelight in the room, its light weak and swaying.
It made one’s eyes ache.
Jiang Yu already had her younger sister on her back. At this moment, she dared not make a sound, helping Mother wring out the cloth and change the water.
Her tears flowed continuously.
The older brother who was usually lively and jumping around now looked as if he were dead, and she was terrified.
Jiang Mianmian was also scared.
It would be alright; she had added spiritual spring water to the medicine, so it would surely be effective.
Jiang Mianmian tried to encourage herself, but she was uncertain; it all felt so unreal.
She only knew that in this place, a fever could kill people.
From the next room came a “bang,” as if something had fallen over.
Qin Luoxia was a bit worried, so she told Sister Yu to continue changing the water and wiping him, while she went to check.
When Qin Luoxia reached the next room, she saw that her husband had actually knocked over a cabinet and was crawling inside, looking quite disheveled.
She had been married to her husband for so long and had never seen him in such a disheveled state.
Jiang Changtian fumbled for a long time before finally pulling something out.
He crawled out of the cabinet and turned around to see his wife.
“He can be saved, he can be saved! Luo Xia, look, this is ginseng—this is life-saving ginseng. Once Fenger takes it, he will be fine.” Jiang Changtian held a piece of ginseng with a broken root. He did not mention that this was the very ginseng that had eventually led to Steward Wu’s execution.
When he had pilfered it, he hadn’t known what it was; he had simply taken a portion from the things Steward Wu and the others had stolen.
After finding out later, he dared not speak a word and hid it desperately.
He didn’t actually know if it would be useful for Fenger, but because people had died over it, it had to be useful.
“How should he take it?” Qin Luoxia asked, pulling on her swaying husband.
“Slice it. No, he can’t eat slices; grind it into powder, add water, and feed it to him,” Jiang Changtian said, steadying his wife.
Qin Luoxia did not delay; she took the medicine, sliced a piece for her husband, and then took the rest to grind.
Jiang Changtian held that slice of ginseng and tried to stuff it into Fenger’s mouth, but he was completely unconscious; it was useless. Even prying his mouth open didn’t work.
Jiang Changtian’s hands kept shaking.
Yet, he still said to his daughter: “Yu’er, come here. Hold this medicine and don’t let it spill.”
He went to change the water and wipe him down.
From the courtyard came the “thump, thump, thump” sound of medicine being ground, very quickly.
Jiang Mianmian listened anxiously, and then she couldn’t help but wet herself. She had no choice; after drinking milk, she would always wet herself.
Jiang Yu felt the damp warmth on her back, but she couldn’t be bothered with it. She continued carrying her, struggling to push the ginseng slice into her older brother’s mouth.
While gently swaying her back, she whispered: “It’s okay, Mianmian. When big brother wakes up, Sister will change your diaper. Be good.”
Qin Luoxia finished grinding the medicine, put it in a bowl, brought it in, and added a little water.
Seeing that her son still had no reaction, she opened her mouth wide, struggling to hold back several times.
People who are grieving to the extreme cannot make a sound; it is like acting in a silent play.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. The medicine is here. Husband, we have medicine; after he takes it, he will be fine.” Qin Luoxia patted her husband’s back with her palm.
“Yu’er, hold the medicine bowl steady. Husband, come here and give me a hand,” Qin Luoxia commanded calmly.
She sat at the head of the bed and, together with her husband, helped their son up, letting him lean against her chest.
Their son had grown into a half-grown boy and had long since ceased to be so intimate. She watched him running wild outside all day, doing outrageous things like an adult. She never expected that, at this moment, he would be like a small furnace leaning against her chest, his body covered in crisscrossing wounds that were bruised and black, his lips purple.
Qin Luoxia held her son, her throat bobbing with suppressed sobs several times, but she still said firmly:
“Husband, you feed him the medicine; I will hold Fenger.”
Looking at his son like this, Jiang Changtian’s hands shook so much that he couldn’t aim the spoon at his mouth.
This was his first child.
He himself had originally been just like a child.
It was only after having Fenger that he gradually became responsible and stopped acting recklessly.
In the past, he had been like a trapped beast, cynical and resentful of everything.
He watched as his wife firmly pried open their son’s jaw, forcing his mouth to open.
Jiang Changtian said with shaking hands: “This won’t work. If his throat isn’t open, it won’t go down. I will press the acupoint on his lower jaw; Yu’er, you feed him.”
Jiang Yu took the medicine bowl, nervously stirring the medicine repeatedly.
Jiang Mianmian was also very scared watching this scene. She hadn’t expected that her older brother, who usually laughed and joked so lightheartedly and held her, actually had so many large and small wounds on his body.
She could only wait until her older sister took the bowl and stirred it vigorously. While everyone was distracted, she leaned against the rim of the bowl and tried her best to drip the spiritual spring water into it until her supply of the spiritual spring water was bottomed out. In reality, it was just a thin layer at the bottom of the bowl, perhaps just a spoonful, all exhausted.
After she finished dripping it, she felt completely exhausted and collapsed, leaning limply against her older sister’s back.
She couldn’t even care that she was still soaking in urine; she felt that if she soaked any longer, the urine would evaporate.
Jiang Yu, as if feeding her younger sister fine grain powder, poured the medicine into her brother’s mouth one spoonful at a time. Whatever he spat out, she scooped up with the spoon and fed back in.
Jiang Changtian held his son with one hand and pressed down hard on the acupoint on the right side of his son’s neck with the other, ensuring the medicine could go down.
He didn’t know if it would be useful.
At least all the medicine had been administered.
Red marks also appeared on Jiang Feng’s chin and neck.
Jiang Changtian continued to help wipe his son’s arms and body.
The family took turns. The medicine had been administered, and all they could do was lower his temperature; the rest was left to fate.
Jiang Changtian’s eyes were red, his long hair falling over his shoulders. His shoulders looked so thin. For some reason, seeing Father like this, Jiang Mianmian felt he was so pitiful.
It seemed like everyone in her family had a relatively lively personality, except for Father.
Father walked softly, spoke softly, and even laughed softly. When Father held her, he was also gentle and careful.
He rarely showed his emotions, except for that night when he threw himself into Mother’s arms and cried.
Although he was Father, he didn’t seem very mature or brave.
Outside, the chirping of insects grew quieter and quieter.
Inside, the candlelight grew dimmer and dimmer.
It was almost burned out.
