LORD OF MEDICINE

DRAGON'S DlGEST

LORD OF MEDICINE

Astory of magic and ancient healing

时运流转，谁才是真的神医？

ln the early years of the Qing Dynasty (1616 – 1911), there was a genius doctor in Wuxian County of Jiangsu, named Ye Gui. He wore the courtesy name “Tianshi”, or “heaven man”, because every single patient he treated recovered promptly. People at the time lauded him as the incarnation of the “Holy Remedy Star”, the god in charge of healing. Ye came from a family of doctors who migrated from their hometown in Shexian County, Huizhou during the last years of the Ming Dynasty (1368 – 1644) to escape war and chaos. Ye Tianshi represented the third generation of the family. His grandfather, Ye Shi, and his father, Ye Zhaocai, were both well-known in the county but Ye Tianshi’s fame far exceeded theirs. It was said that Ye showed great aptitude early on and could memorize books after a single read—an avid student of medicine. From the age of 12 to 18, he learned from 17 renowned doctors; benefting from the rich teachings within the family, Ye became a doctor before he was 20 and began to practice, bringing glory to his family’s reputation. There wasn’t a single diffcult or complicated disease he couldn’t cure, and before long his name was known across the country.

Heaven does not favor a single man in granting such gifts. Great talent and genius, though rare, are never unique. Ye had a younger counterpart, Xue Xue, whose courtesy name was “Shengbai” or “born bright”, originally from Shanxi. It was perhaps also to avoid turmoil that Xue’s family moved to Suzhou. Xue Shengbai was some ten years younger than Ye and should have paid respect to the senior master by any account, but the younger Xue was also a genius at a young age. He studied Confucianism and was extremely well-read. A talented writer and calligrapher, he was also versed in Taoism and martial arts—a truly accomplished gentleman of the age. It was Xue’s frequently ill mother that led him to medical texts. A Confucian turned doctor, though unorthodox, was still able to achieve great fame, comparable to Ye’s stature despite his unconventional methods. A man with such talent couldn’t help developing certain a pride. With talents surpassing Ye in all other aspects and with medical skills no less impressive, Xue rarely put on a humble, polite appearance for Ye. On the contrary, he secretly developed a competitive streak. Unfortunately, rivals of that sort rarely become friends.

Ye had been practicing for many years when Xue began to establish a name for himself. The elder Ye’s rich knowledge of medicine and humanity were engraved in the hearts of the masses, but despite this, Xue wanted to compete with him in popularity. As fate would have it, both Ye and Xue lived at separate ends of the same street under the Jingqiao Bridge outside the western city gate. The horses of the patients would line up in front of Ye’s doorstep all the way to Xue’s place, while the latter was rarely visited. Such a scene embarrassed Xue, and people inevitably gave him advice: “It has nothing to do with your medical skills. Because you are close to Ye, patients do not want to offend Ye and his family by coming here. Even if Ye hasn’t suggested it himself, who wants to appear ungrateful? Move your practice to a new location and you are guaranteed to be swamped with business.” But how could the prideful Xue accept such an obtrusive suggestion and simply give in? He held his ground, refusing to relocate. However, the crowding by his rival’s patients on his own doorstep vexed him. There was nothing he could do but make sour comments about Ye, calling him a “doctor of fortune”, and calling himself a “Confucian doctor”.

On hearing his new nickname, Ye laughed: “It’s indeed fortune and fate. I’m no better than Xue except for my luck. Come and see me while I still have a decade of luck to come; after that, you will have to turn to Xue.”His response, playing up his rarity, attracted even more patients, afraid that Ye would become unavailable if they didn’t hurry. Xue was frustrated by all this talent. He collected all Ye’s records of diagnoses and prescriptions, criticizing each and every one of them. He even changed the name of his study into “Sao Ye Hamlet”1. Meaning “leaf sweeping” on appearance, intimating a feeling of enmity with the homophone ye.. He even self-published medical books and critiques under the pseudonym Sao Ye. Ye, annoyed by Xue’s belligerence, changed his study’s name to “Ta Xue Hall”2. Meaning “snow stepping”, with “snow”, or xue, referring to his opponent.in return.

ZENG JlANHUl

曾剑辉

Zeng Jianhui, pen name Zeng Yimo (曾乙末), is a 1980s generation writer who publishes his stories mostly on Douban, one of China’s most important online literature communities. His stories are characterized by a fairly typical approach to online writing: action-driven, swift narration, historic backgrounds often set in the Ming and Qing dynasties, and characters that are distinctly wuxia. Yet the young writer’s skillfulness, his experiments with narration and language, and the hidden social and philosophical gaze behind the seemingly entertaining stories set him apart from most writers of his kind; as he puts it himself: “I enjoy looking at the perplexing reality we live in via absurd stories.”The underground competition between “Sao Ye” and“Ta Xue” created plenty of after-dinner gossip for the neighborhood.

One year later, Suzhou was hit by a horrible plague. The infected swelled up and became feverish, experienced red welts, and showed abscesses on the neck. A few days later, they would die. The epidemic claimed many lives and spread terror among the living. The provincial government immediately opened clinics in all counties, offering the poor treatment for free. Well-known local doctors were invited to join, hoping that together they would survive this diffcult time. Among these doctors were Ye and Xue. Knowing their history, the county offcial was cautious, assigning them to two different clinics on the east and west ends of the area to prevent confict.

Ye resided in a clinic on the east while Xue was assigned to the west. They examined patients, prescribed, prepared, and distributed medicine independently. Without having to interact, the two worked in peace. A few days later, the epidemic seemed to spread faster and more patients poured into the swamped clinics—with limited beds, medicine, and manpower. Only Ye and Xue managed to keep their clinics afoat, largely because they were curing more patients. News of their skills spread, meaning the locals rushed to them for treatment when infected—putting even heavier pressure on their clinics.

Several respectable elderly members of local families and venerated country gentlemen decided to put together some money to support the two clinics and assist them in their plague relief. They passed their donations while solemnly pleading, “Tens of thousands of the locals all depend on you.” Indeed a heavy responsibility, both Ye and Xue took it on without a single complaint. They studied the disease vigorously, striving to indentify the source of the plague and put an end to it. While Ye and Xue arduously researched the matter, a rumor broke out from a tea stall in front of Xuanmiao Temple that a few country gentlemen had donated thousands of kilograms of gold to cast an honorary plaque, engraved with the words “Lord of Medicine” to be awarded to the doctor who put an end to the plague. Whoever solved the puzzle of the plague would win the title. Though the reward was denied by the gentry, the title “Lord of Medicine” was passed on. Gradually, the locals learned of this and were eager to fnd out who was the better of the two doctors.

Whether it was to end the suffering or competitiveness, the rumor of the title certainly triggered ambitions in Ye and Xue. They put even more effort into their research. At this point, the government medical examiner and offcers were gradually able to discover a few clues to the epidemic. They found rat bodies in gullies and ditches on the city sidewalk. The entire county started to purify itself, burning mugwort to scatter the rodents and adding lime to the well water. As a result, the plague slowed down. The next morning, Ye and Xue sent their individual prescriptions to the pharmacies. The pharmacist on the west was stunned by Xue’s prescription because of one ingredient—petals of plum blossom. This came at a time when spring was transitioning to summer, and where in the world would anyone be able to fnd plum blossoms, which appear in the winter? The pharmacist grabbed the prescription and rushed to Xue’s residence for help. When he learned of the pharmacist’s arrival, Xue knew something was wrong, and when he heard the problem, he realized his mistake. He snatched the prescription from the pharmacist and set it on fre with a candle, sighing: “It’s fortune and fate.”

The pharmacist tried to persuade him: “Doctor Xue, we still have time if you simply make a change to the prescription.”

Xue shook his head and said: “It is too late; the clinic on the east must have prepared the medicine by now.”

Indeed, as soon as Ye came up with a prescription, all the ingredients were gathered and thrown into a pot to cook. A few hours later, the medicine was given to a patient in critical condition. Ye emerged victorious, deserving of the title genius. After the arduous diagnosis, he had identifed the heart of the problem. As soon as the patient took the dose, he swiftly improved, a full recovery expected. The entire county broke into thunderous cheers, the news passing like wildfre. The county offcial invited all the respectable local fgures to pay their respects and express their gratitude to Ye, heralded by drums and gongs. In this match, Ye was the clear winner. As it turned out, there never actually was a golden plaque, but the locals nonetheless heralded Ye as the “Lord of Medicine”.

Xue burned his prescription, but the content still circulated. It was said that, on reading Xue’s prescription, Ye couldn’t help but marvel. He told his disciples, “He took a different approach but the result is equally satisfactory, like a different route but to the same destination. The timing of the last ingredient was regrettable, but Xue is indeed a brilliant doctor.”

Xue was brilliant but proud. He lost the competition and conceded that he couldn’t remain so close to Ye. So, Xue shut his door to shun visitors and stopped practicing alltogether. He turned to studying the I Ching and the method and laws for divination and sorcery it contains.

A decade later, Ye became even more prominent. From illustrious royalty to the indigent, everyone knew the name“Ye, Lord of Medicine”. Under the Jingqiao Bridge, abundant boats forever crowed the canal, bringing patients from across the nation to see Ye or ask him to make housecalls. Unless the invitation was from a high level offcial or the aristocracy, Ye rarely obliged—but only because he was too busy. As for Xue, there were insightful people wanting his medical advice, but Xue turned them all down, saying hadn’t touched medical texts for a decade and didn’t want to faunt his poor skills.

The decade was a prosperous era for the Qing Dynasty, including a growing population, particularly in the boom region of Jiangsu. Many northerners left their poor hometowns and migrated south for a better life, adding to the dense population of the area. On appearance, the city was fourishing. But danger lurked, chiefy in the pollution of the rivers. Locals found a stench gradually rising from the inner and outer canals of the city. They petitioned the government to treat it for the public good, but before the local offcial could come up with a plan, another plague hit. It began with a few load-shouldering porters drinking from the river to save money on tea; later in the evening, they experienced abdominal pain. Shortly after they were sent to the doctor, they died. There were several similar cases that followed, and the county government was informed. Because of the successful fght against the previous plague, the new offcial and local people were not overly worried. All the offcial did was to issue notices to dispel public alarm and opened a few workhouses to provide cold tea.

The plague began to spread and the local people were once again flled with panic. A few smart pharmacists dug out the old prescription from Ye for the last plague, gathered ingredients, and cooked the medicine for sale. Though people rushed to buy it, the medicine seemed futile in stopping this new plague. The county was on the verge of another disaster when Ye volunteered to contact the proper local authorities to start free clinics and give out medicine. He also sent people to investigate water sources within the county and gathered all the bodies of the diseased for burning in a chosen location. Ye knew that, though the laws of nature seemed to be constant and repetitive, no two illnesses are identical, making the old prescription ineffective. Plague relief was in full swing, but the infected still died. The condition was, however, less chaotic than the previous plague. Fortunately, the investigators of the water sources brought back news. The information was from a feng shui master out inspecting in the suburbs in early spring. Word had it that the feng shui master hiked the nearby mountain to look for caves, discovering several snake pits where hundreds or even thousands of snakes gathered—strange as these creatures were never seen living in groups before. Also, it was not yet Jingzhe3. “Awakening of Insects”, the third of the 24 solar terms, referring to March 5 to March 20 when, in Chinese folklore, dormant insects are awakened by thunderstorms., so why did the snakes wake up so early from their hibernation? After a stroll in the mountains, the feng shui master found that people were reclaiming mountain land, thus disturbing the snakes.

Ye pondered the news for a long time before saying,“Everything in the world reinforces and restrains another; the main reason is the alternation of yin and yang in the changing of the four seasons, which is marked by the 24 solar terms. The undulation of yin and yang keeps every creature in their place without over proliferation. Poisonous snakes lie in hibernation and wake up because of thunder during Jingzhe. The frst venom they spit is the deadliest thing in the world. Based on the information at hand, the overpopulation of Suzhou has caused human expansion into the wild, and these dormant creatures were disturbed. They spit venom into the earth, which then infects the groundwater. In addition, the rivers around Suzhou grew heavily polluted and full of flth, all contributing to the impending plague. In my opinion, the crux of the problem is the snakes, and the solution lies in the law of reinforcement and restraint of all things.” Ye intentionally paused and looked around at his disciples.

One of Ye’s well-learned disciples, named Gu Jingwen, raised a question: “Snakes and scorpions alike hibernate and when awake spit venom into the earth every year. Why haven’t any plagues developed before? It proves that the antidote must exist in the course of nature; it’s just that it has not shown up yet.”

Ye nodded with approval and said, “An excellent point.”He refused to give more clues, and instead picked up the tea cup to take a sip, leaving his disciples in contemplation. They thought deeply but still couldn’t provide any answers. Gu stepped up again: “Please forgive our obtuseness, but could you give us a hint?”

Ye said, “Jingzhe starts with thunder, but what comes after the thunder?”

“Thunderstorms!” several disciples responded.

“Yes, thunderstorms. The frst rain follows the frst thunder in spring. It brings down countless amounts of qi from the sky, which is most effective in purifying the foul earth. Take the rain drops after the frst thunder in spring as a conducting ingredient, and the plague will be dissolved in no time.”

Gu frowned and said: “But there’s still more than half a month till Jingzhe. We can’t wait that long for the rain. I fear that…”

Ye sighed, sank into the chair, and replied: “The motion of clouds and rainfall is under the heaven’s will, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

At the time, there was a gifted scholar named Shen Deqian, who had befriended Ye. He was also classmates with Xue while learning to write poetry from the great poet Ye Xie in Jiaxing. Having learned of Ye’s dilemma, Shen rushed to give his advice, “Right now, there’s only one person who can save the people from doom, and this person is Xue Shengbai.” It turned out that, according to Shen, Xue was well-known for his scholarly wisdom, profciency in the I Ching, and divination abilities. However, few knew that he was also a sorcerer, able to conjure wind and rain—similar to the legendary strategist Zhuge Liang in the Three Kingdoms period.

Ye clapped his hands at this idea and sent Shen to Xue’s home to ask him to help. Shortly after, Shen returned with the news that Xue would set up an altar and perform the deed in three days.

That day happened to be Yushui4. “Rain Water”, the second of the 24 solar terms, starting from around February 18.. The altar stood on Jingqiao Bridge, in which three joss sticks as thick as baby arms were lit. Bystanders crowded the river banks, incense tables were everywhere with swirls of smoke slowly rising. Xue appeared on one end of the bridge, dressed in all white with his hand lifting a peach wood sword. He proceeded to the altar. It was the frst time in ten years Xue had made a public appearance. He was lean with threads of white hair over his head—a divine demeanor. Xue made his stance in front of the altar, picking up the evocation bell on the table. Ding-ding! The airy tinkles struck awe into the hearts of the onlookers.

Xue began to shake the bell in one hand and fourish the sword in the other. His bearing was vigorous and brisk; his motion was ferce and spastic. He murmured: “Great disaster falls from heaven, and we should bear it if it is the gods’ will; but calamity should have passed. Heaven cares for every living thing, give mercy to the innocent people and save us from the bitter sea, an infnitely kind and commendable act.” Gradually the murmuring became a low chanting. Suddenly, Xue lifted his sword. The paper talismans on the table soared into the sky like a loose kite. In midair, they burst into fames one by one, just as a bleak wind came from nowhere, blowing the ashes everywhere. The sky darkened and the black clouds swirled over the crowd’s heads. The wind grew stronger and stronger. One person sensed a drop of rain hitting their face, and shouted, “It’s raining!” A second person felt it and shouted too. Soon, everyone felt it. A tsunami of cries exploded.

But Ye was still anxious. “Thunder, there should be thunder to make it Jingzhe,” he murmured.

With that, Xue’s sword routine came to a close. He stuck his left index fnger and middle fnger behind his back—a sword gesture—and pointed his right hand to the sky. Thunder boomed over their heads like a warning to the Suzhou people, and a sky-ripping, earth-splitting crack rolled over them. Before the crowd could recover from the shock, torrential rain drops began to pour. Thunder rumbled and rain fell. Young and old, the people were overjoyed.

Ye quickly ordered his disciples to save the rainwater and start cooking the medicine. When he turned around, he found Xue standing on the bridge alone. Right at that moment, it dawned upon Ye that doctors are not the only ones who treat people; those who reconcile the sky and earth—harmonize yin and yang—were also doctors. Ye said to himself, “as the doctor of fortune, my luck is fnally at an end.”

Ye passed away the following year. When he was on his death bed, he instructed his disciples and children, “You can either be a doctor or not be one. Only with a natural talent and the diligence to read tens of thousands of books can you develop the skills to practice medicine; otherwise, you are destined to harm people with your blade-like drugs, be sure to remember this. After I die, none of you are allowed to pick fghts with Xue. You should concentrate on learning the knowledge of medicine and studying various medical records. When your skills reach a certain competency, things will happen naturally.” When Xue heard Ye’s last words, he sighed: “It’s fortune and fate.” Ye then opened a clinic to start practicing again.

The people of Suzhou picked a spot outside the western city gate to build the Temple of the Lord of Medicine and a statue to commemorate him. Some said the statue resembled Ye Tianshi, others believed it to be Xue Shengbai. Though there was never a defnitive conclusion, the temple was prosperous. The competition between the two heroes ended in a draw—a rare Chinese result. Perhaps it’s because it’s even rarer for people to take fortune and fate seriously.- TRANSLATED BY LlU JUE (刘珏), AUTHORlZED BY DOUBAN

Author’s Note:My inspiration for this story came from randomly flipping through history and ancient romances. Ye Tianshi and Xue Shengbai were both actual historical figures. The two men were kind of in a competitive relationship, but not nearly as bizarre and eccentric as the way my story tells it. On a whim, I made it that way so the story is interesting.