Chapter 876 - Zhang Chunyang

Of all people, Zhang Yingchen was most invested in opening pharmacies, yet he couldn't make decisions on this matter. Even having Zhao Yingong wire for medicines from Lingao was like distant water that couldn't quench immediate thirst. Fortunately, during his time working at the traditional Chinese medicine hospital, he had frequently gone in and out of the preparation room. Typical Chinese medicine hospitals routinely prepared some commonly-used Chinese patent medicines. The ingredients were generally inexpensive but were proven formulas refined through years of application. Zhang Yingchen planned to establish a small handcraft medicine workshop in the temple to prepare his own medicines.

In the second courtyard, over a hundred people seeking treatment had already gathered. Seeing "Zhang Chunyang"—Zhang the Pure Yang—emerge, there was an immediate stir.

Zhang Yingchen glanced around. The crowd was substantial today. To prevent medical examinations from consuming too much of his time and leaving none for preaching and writing, he had stipulated that he would only see patients on even-numbered days of each month.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please don't crowd. Come one at a time." The young Daoist Mingren called out to maintain order. Zhang Yingchen cleared his throat lightly and strode with his "immortal bearing" to the long table beneath the trees. Mingqing arranged the medical kit and case records neatly on the table. This immediately drew murmurs of surprise from the nearby crowd: Zhang Yingchen was using a quill pen, an ink bottle, and thick paper.

Zhang Yingchen seated himself behind the table, calmly adjusted his sleeves, and Mingren promptly offered freshly brewed pre-rain tea. He took a sip before giving instructions to begin.

Zhang Yingchen's diagnostic methods remained the traditional "observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking," but with the addition of three tools common in modern medicine: stethoscope, thermometer, and blood pressure cuff. Though simple, these three devices greatly improved diagnostic accuracy. Therefore, many people who had been confused by conflicting opinions from physicians or so-called "Scholar-Physicians" received more accurate diagnoses here, and treatment proved especially effective.

He diagnosed while writing prescriptions. Unless circumstances absolutely required otherwise, he prescribed only medicines available locally and Chinese patent medicines. In the earlier period, Zhang Yingchen had sent the young Daoists to purchase samples of various patent medicines sold at city pharmacies, analyzing drug composition by looking, smelling, and tasting, so he could utilize locally-produced medicines. Ming Dynasty pharmacy "raw drugs" were mostly similar in types and names to the old timeline, but patent medicines differed considerably—many commonly-used patent medicines from the old timeline only appeared and were perfected during the Qing Dynasty.

To maintain his "mystical aura" and as a placebo, even when prescribing medicines that could be filled locally, he would add a packet of "pills"—actually just honey-rice flour pills that he made himself.

This charade of distributing placebos was something Zhang Yingchen had performed many times during his missionary work in Hainan—once in a Li village, he had "cured" quite a few people's illnesses this way. Practice proved that this method worked just as effectively in Hangzhou. Plenty of people got better after taking the placebos. Though these rice flour pills solved the immediate problem, a more troubling issue had emerged.

In the past, most who came to Qingyun Temple for medical consultation were poor people who couldn't afford doctors or medicine, arriving with a "trying everything" attitude. Since his reputation as a "divine healer" had spread, officials and wealthy families had started coming more frequently. Some came for treatment, but most came seeking "life cultivation" techniques. Certain idle minds had begun spreading rumors that Zhang Yingchen understood the art of external alchemy. Many scholars and wealthy men whose heads were filled with fantasies about transmuting metals and condensing tin into silver repeatedly visited to consult, wanting to "discuss the arts of longevity."

Zhang Yingchen now faced just such a person. This man was the "steward" of some local gentry—essentially the master's lackey. He had visited Qingyun Temple more than once, asking Zhang Yingchen to come "compound the great elixir" for his master.

The offered terms were extremely generous—since Zhang Yingchen had saved several patients that all the famous physicians in the city had given up on, word had spread of his ability to "raise the dead." This gentleman had naturally heard about it, and thus proposed that Zhang Yingchen move into his West Lake villa, receive a generous monthly stipend, and devote himself to tranquil cultivation and elixir refinement. Additionally, handsome boy servants and beautiful maidservants would attend him.

"Daoist Master, how much of a future is there in giving consultations here?" The steward, having come many times without closing the deal, was growing impatient. "If you compound the elixir well for my master, building an entire temple for you would be easy!"

Zhang Yingchen maintained an expression of inscrutable depth while inwardly quite impatient. He would rather provide basic health education for those poor souls who couldn't afford doctors or medicine than study how to "compound the great elixir" with some sixty-year-old debauched fellow still mired in pleasures.

If it concerned genuine pursuit of immortality, Zhang Yingchen wouldn't be so averse. Though he had always scorned alchemy, he did harbor some interest in actual elixir-making. But this old reprobate's approach to elixirs differed from the norm. He followed the theory of using women as the furnace, practicing the arts of "gathering and battle." To prolong his life through such techniques, he had already ruined a reinforced platoon's worth of girls. Zhang Yingchen had read many documents on this topic and knew that the girls this old lecher used were typically just past their first menstruation, only twelve or thirteen years old. If the lolicons back in Lingao knew about this, they would surely cry "divine punishment" and tear him to pieces.

Zhang Yingchen knew that Ming Dynasty gentry, especially in the "end times" of the late Ming, had a quality of "demons dancing wildly"—luxury and debauchery among gentry households had reached an extreme. The Great Ming, like the Great Qing, had no concept of human rights—no bottom lines whatsoever. Zhang Yingchen had seen plenty when studying Daoist history. So he really didn't want any involvement.

Originally he had made excuses, saying he only knew a little about medical techniques and wasn't versed in the great way of elixirs. But for some reason, the other party assumed he was a true master concealing his abilities. Not only were the steward's entreaties earnest, but gifts arrived continuously in large quantities. Zhang Yingchen had refused many times, yet the other party remained persistent, making the situation rather difficult to handle.

Moreover, this gentleman wielded considerable power. Zhang Yingchen was merely a wandering Daoist. If the old fellow grew angry, one card sent to the authorities could prosecute him for "deluding the masses with demonic words"—at minimum, he would be hauled into the yamen to taste "the Great Ming gentry's bamboo boards," then be "escorted back to his home district." Physical suffering aside, he wouldn't be able to play the "immortal" anymore.

Zhang Yingchen decided not to refuse again this time. After all, he had read quite a few classics on elixir-making and gathering techniques—he could manage to fool them. So he agreed to "go talk." They agreed that in three days, the household would send a sedan chair to fetch him.

Finally sending off this haughty servant, Zhang Yingchen concentrated on resuming consultations. He observed with his eyes, asked with his mouth, pressed on pulses, and occasionally needed to examine daily habits. His quill pen wrote rapidly. Mingren and Mingqing assisted on either side—one specifically grinding ink and spreading paper, the other distributing "elixir pills" to those who had received prescriptions.

Consultations ended at two in the afternoon. Afterward, Zhang Yingchen instructed the young Daoists to pack up, then returned to his quiet chamber first to organize case records and sort medicines.

"Sir, the Abbot asks whether we should leave the gate open for you tonight." When bringing tea, the young Daoist Mingren gazed at the tall wandering Daoist before him and asked respectfully.

Today he was going to Zhao Yingong's place. He had informed Abbot Ma early in the morning that dinner needn't be prepared for him.

"No need. A certain successful candidate is hosting a banquet to thank me. There's no need to leave the gate open—just close up the doors and windows properly and go to rest." Zhang Yingchen gently rubbed the youth's head and answered with a slight smile.

After giving the youth a few more instructions, he strolled out of Qingyun Temple. At the gate, Cai Shi, sent by Zhao Yingong, was already waiting with the sedan bearers. Though Cai Shi didn't know the background of this Daoist nicknamed "Rivaling Pure Yang," he was aware that Daoist Zhang possessed superior medical skills and was an old acquaintance of his young scholar master. He immediately stepped forward to pay respects, invited Zhang Yingchen into the sedan, and the party headed toward Phoenix Villa.

This banquet wasn't for "catching up." The first phase of Phoenix Villa's construction was complete, and Zhou Dongtian and Mei Lin had returned from Nanjing—bringing many books, over a dozen craftsmen, and servants. Zhao Yingong planned to use this opportunity for the inspection team members to gather and discuss the next phase of work. According to data from the Grand Library, disastrous weather in Zhejiang would begin breaking out gradually from summer onward. And the Dengzhou Rebellion was about to unfold.

Unlike the Guangzhou-Leizhou faction who founded enterprises through hard work and focused on industry, the elders posted to the Two Zhejiang had a mission centered on dealing with the coming refugee tide, absorbing more manpower for the transmigrator collective to meet Second Five-Year Plan requirements. The Two Zhejiang work priority wasn't in sericulture, printing, or other industries. In Zhang Yingchen's view, Zhao Yingong's various plans still aimed at providing revenue for the Hangzhou Station—the Two Zhejiang wasn't Guangdong. The Navy Department's force projection capability couldn't ensure the Hangzhou Station could operate as boldly as the Guangzhou and Leizhou stations.

Hangzhou's gentry, if divided by religious affiliation, could roughly be categorized as pro-Jesuit gentry, anti-Jesuit gentry, and neutrals. Due to the exemplary influence of Yang Tingyun and other so-called "Pillars of Hangzhou Christianity," the proportion of Christianity-friendly gentry in Hangzhou was quite high compared to other places. Combined with the open-minded atmosphere of the Two Zhejiang, there were also many enlightened scholar-bureaucrats like Huang Zongxi of Yuyao who were interested in "novel learning" and "Western learning." This gentry circle was one Zhao Yingong could enter with the Jesuits' assistance.

The only question was how well Old Zhao had crammed on contemporary essay writing and regulated verse. Whether reciting "those who would be truly great" at banquets or silently copying Nalan Xingde's poems while picking up fallen petals in courtyards—both were situations to be strenuously avoided. The tragedy of over a dozen elders using Nalan Xingde's poetry to woo local gentry daughters in Lingao, only to discover they had all been using the same poems, had become required negative case study material in the posted elder training course.

Setting aside Old Zhao—that fake successful candidate—Mei Lin, the fellow who kept staring at the Eight Beauties of Qinhuai, was also a focus of attention for the Grand Library's Time-Space Copyright Office Leadership Group. Who knew whether his Nanjing trip had fulfilled his wishes?