My brothers are all warriors capable of taking on ten thousand men; I'll roam freely in the Thr

Zhang Zhongjing arrived in Zhuojun in a dusty state and, without having a chance to rest, was immediately led to the inner chamber of the prefect's residence.

When he first saw Ji Xuanyuan leaning against the couch, this renowned doctor, who was used to seeing patients and was usually calm, instantly frowned, his brows almost forming a deep frown.

The young man before me was as pale as paper, with a hint of bluish-gray. His cheeks were sunken due to emaciation. Only his eyes still held a clear and wise light, but they had also been worn down by illness.

His lips were pale, and his breathing was sluggish and slightly wheezy.

Just sitting there gives one a sense of fragility, like a lamp running out of oil or a candle flickering in the wind.

"Mr. Zhang, thank you for coming from afar." Ji Xuanyuan was about to get up to greet him, but this triggered a violent cough. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief and it took him a while to calm down.

"Prefect, please don't stand on ceremony. Please sit down," Zhang Zhongjing quickly stepped forward to stop him, his voice gentle and dignified.

He put down his medicine pouch, sat down by the couch, and carefully examined Ji Xuanyuan's complexion, eyelids, and tongue coating, then asked many questions.

He patiently inquired about every detail, including when the illness started, how the symptoms changed, when he coughed up blood, the color of his sputum, the location of his chest pain, his sleep quality at night, his diet and bowel movements.

Then, he extended three fingers and gently placed them on Ji Xuanyuan's wrist, concentrating his mind and carefully examining the pulse.

After a long while, he switched to his other hand.

During the pulse diagnosis, his expression grew increasingly solemn; he would sometimes close his eyes in deep thought, and sometimes shake his head slightly.

After examining the patient, Zhang Zhongjing withdrew his hand, pondered for a moment, and then slowly spoke, his voice carrying the calmness unique to a physician and a hint of pessimism: "Prefect Ji, please forgive my frankness, but your illness stems from a congenital deficiency of endowment and a depletion of primordial yang. This is compounded by overwork, which has depleted your qi and blood, leading to phlegm and blood stasis that have deeply penetrated the lung meridians. Now, the pathogenic factors have spread from the qi level to the blood level, damaging the five internal organs. Both yin and yang are impaired, and both qi and blood are deficient. Your pulse is deep, thready, wiry, and hesitant, sometimes intermittent. This is a critical condition indicating severe deficiency of vital energy, lingering pathogenic factors that are difficult to expel, and even the heart meridian is affected."

He paused, then looked at Ji Xuanyuan with a frank gaze: "If we follow the usual method, we would need to use a strong medicine right now to first remove the phlegm, blood stasis, heat, and toxins that are the root cause of the illness, forcefully stabilize the condition, and prevent it from suddenly worsening. Once the symptoms have eased somewhat, we could then switch to a gentle and nourishing remedy, supplemented with acupuncture to unblock the meridians, and gradually work to strengthen the body's foundation and harmonize yin and yang. With such careful treatment, we might be able to stabilize the condition and extend life by four or five years, but..."

Zhang Zhongjing emphasized, his gaze sharp: "This theory of 'prolonging life' is based on the prefect's current lifespan. From today onwards, he must never again exhaust himself with worry and mental strain as before. He must also avoid wind and cold, moderate his diet, and maintain a cheerful mood, just like... a person who takes quiet rest. This is the safest, and perhaps the only, method that I can think of at present."

The room was completely silent.

Guo Jia, Lu Zhi, and the others stood by, and upon hearing this, their hearts sank.

Extend lifespan by four or five years?

Will he need lifelong rest and become practically a cripple?

For the ambitious Ji Xuanyuan, this was probably even harder to accept than dying immediately.

Ji Xuanyuan remained silent, his pale face revealing little emotion, though his fingers unconsciously twirled the corner of his sleeve.

Four or five years?

He could wait; the chaos had only just begun.

But will he be a "useless person" lying on his bed for the rest of his life?

This was by no means what he wanted.

After a moment, he raised his head, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Mr. Zhang's medical skills are profound, and his words must be invaluable. However, I have another suggestion, which may offer a glimmer of hope. I would like to invite you to come and take a look before making a decision."

Zhang Zhongjing was slightly surprised: "Oh? Prefect, please speak."

"Please come with me, sir." Ji Xuanyuan struggled to his feet with Dian Wei's help.

"I'm taking you to a place where there might be some... unconventional approaches and attempts in medicine. I'd like to ask you to take a look."

Although Zhang Zhongjing had doubts, he still nodded in agreement.

The group arrived at the West City Museum of Natural History.

As soon as he stepped into the courtyard, Zhang Zhongjing was stunned by the scene before him.

The courtyard was not the quiet study he had imagined; instead, it resembled a huge combination of workshop and school.

The sounds of hammering, sawing, planing, and debate could be heard from different areas.

Some craftsmen were studying the strangely shaped wooden and iron structures, while some students were arguing heatedly around a blueprint covered with odd symbols, their faces flushed.

"The proportions are wrong!"

"Nonsense! I've checked it three times!"

"Stop! Test it with real objects! In the study of things, empirical evidence comes first!"

The arguing students stopped when they saw Ji Xuanyuan arrive, bowed respectfully, and their eyes were filled with admiration for their lord who had provided them with countless "ingenious ideas".

Ji Xuanyuan smiled and nodded, offering a few words of encouragement: "Make bold assumptions, verify carefully," and "Failure is nothing to fear, the value lies in exploration." He then led the astonished Zhang Zhongjing to the relatively quiet but uniquely scented Department of Medicine.

Upon entering, a strong smell of alcohol assaulted his nostrils. Zhang Zhongjing's nostrils twitched slightly, and he looked puzzled.

"This is alcohol, which is obtained by repeatedly distilling and purifying wine. It is extremely strong and not suitable for drinking. However, I have discovered that it has a disinfecting effect, that is, it can kill certain microorganisms that may cause disease."

As Ji Xuanyuan walked, he explained, "I call them germs. They are tiny creatures that are difficult to see with the naked eye. They can enter the human body through wounds, breathing, and other means, causing carbuncles, fever, and even typhoid fever. Alcohol can be used to wipe instruments and clean wounds, reducing the growth of these 'germs' and lowering the risk of infection."

Zhang Zhongjing listened with a sense of understanding but not quite. However, the concepts of disease caused by minute substances and disinfection had a vague connection with the theory of disease caused by pathogenic factors in the "Huangdi Neijing" he had read, but it was more specific, which greatly intrigued him.

Inside the medical department, everyone was dressed in uniform, starched white clothes, and their faces were covered with masks made of fine cotton.

The room was bright and displayed many crystal-clear glasswares, such as beakers, funnels, flasks, and petri dishes. Although the craftsmanship was not as good as that of later generations, they were excellent for observing and storing medicines.

There are also magnifying glasses with inlaid glass lenses, which can magnify and observe tiny objects.

"These utensils and masks are all for the purpose of keeping them as clean as possible and reducing external evils or germs," ​​Ji Xuanyuan said.

Zhang Zhongjing observed that some students were using these vessels to cultivate and observe certain things, or to conduct experiments with wild rabbits.

Ji Xuanyuan emphasized that unauthorized human trials are strictly prohibited. Any new drug must undergo repeated animal testing and be tried by volunteers who have signed contracts (mostly death row inmates or terminally ill patients recruited at high prices, with comprehensive compensation) before it can be considered for application.

"May I ask, Prefect, what is the main focus of our attack here?" Zhang Zhongjing couldn't help but ask.

What he saw completely overturned his understanding of "medicine," making it seem more like a unique discipline that integrates craftsmanship, observation, and empirical evidence.

Ji Xuanyuan stopped and pointed to an area that was being carefully isolated. There, several students were wearing thick masks and leather gloves, carefully working on some petri dishes, in which faint green mold spots could be seen.

"They are trying to cultivate a substance that may have a powerful antibacterial effect... that is, to inhibit the growth of 'bacteria,' which I call penicillin."

Ji Xuanyuan's voice carried a hint of uncertainty and anticipation: "This is a substance produced by a specific type of mold. I have heard of records of using moldy food to treat sores in some ancient medical prescriptions or folk remedies. Perhaps the principle is the same."

He looked at Zhang Zhongjing with earnest eyes: "Sir, I know that this method is fanciful and extremely risky. Even if we succeed in cultivating it, purification will be a difficult hurdle. The resulting substance will inevitably be impure. Whether it will bring good or bad fortune when used on a human body is hard to predict. It may save lives, or it may... lead to a quick death."

"Moreover, the core of my illness lies in the deficiency of the root and the excess of the branch. Even if penicillin is effective, it can only deal with the infection part of the branch. I still need your skillful hands to nourish the root and strengthen the body."

He paused, then shared some of the vague understandings that later generations had about his type of chronic lung disease: "In my humble opinion, the root cause of my illness, apart from congenital deficiency, may be due to repeated infections, that is, repeated invasion of pathogenic factors, which damage the lung collaterals and form stubborn phlegm and blood stasis. Treatment may require a two-pronged approach."

"Firstly, as you said, we should strengthen the body's resistance, harmonize Yin and Yang, and enhance the body's ability to fight disease. Secondly, if there is a miraculous medicine that can powerfully eliminate deeply lurking and stubborn bacteria or neutralize their toxicity, it may break the deadlock and clear the way for the medicine that strengthens the body's resistance. If we supplement this with methods that promote the expulsion of phlegm and local conditioning, there may be a chance for a complete cure."

After Ji Xuanyuan finished speaking, the room fell into a long silence.

He knew, of course, that penicillin, developed in the late Eastern Han Dynasty, was practically tantamount to suicide when used on humans, but he was gambling, gambling on a last glimmer of hope.

Zhang Zhongjing stared blankly at the penicillin in the petri dishes, then looked at the young prefect before him, who was terminally ill but had a clear mind and whose words, though strange, were logically sound. A storm raged in his heart.

Can mold cure diseases?

Can microorganisms cause disease?

Disinfection and isolation?

Cultivation and purification?

These concepts were completely beyond his experience, yet they subtly coincided with certain ancient medical observations and intuitions.

In particular, Ji Xuanyuan attributed his illness to a complex situation involving deficiency, infection, and phlegm and blood stasis, and proposed a step-by-step treatment plan. Although the terminology was novel, there were some aspects of the medical theory that were worth considering.

After a long while, Zhang Zhongjing let out a long breath, his eyes becoming incredibly focused and bright, the kind of excitement a scholar feels when faced with an unprecedented challenge.

"What the governor said... was unheard of and inconceivable, but upon closer examination, it seems to align with the general principles of medicine: supporting the body's resistance and eliminating pathogens, treating both the symptoms and the root cause. However, his understanding of the pathogens and the methods of eliminating them are quite different from the norm."

He walked over to the petri dishes, observed them carefully, and then picked up a magnifying glass to examine the bluish-green colonies closely.

"This mold does indeed resemble some of the moldy substances I've seen applied to sores before. If we can truly find something in it that can ward off evil..."

He turned around and solemnly said to Ji Xuanyuan, "Prefect, I need time. I need to carefully study your notes on germs, disinfection, and culture, observe the penicillin cultivation process, and use my medical knowledge to re-examine your condition and treatment plan. Your ideas are extremely bold, but sometimes medicine requires unconventional thinking to find alternative paths."

He walked to the desk, picked up his pen, and wrote down two prescriptions: "Before that, please have the governor take this decoction to resolve phlegm, stop coughing, relieve asthma, and calm the mind, so as to alleviate the current pain and preserve his last bit of vitality."

"The other prescription is for dietary therapy and conditioning, to nourish the body gradually. Do not trouble yourself with paperwork any further. As for the method you mentioned..." He looked at the petri dishes, his eyes gleaming with a spirit of inquiry.

"Allow me to delve into this medical field with you all, and then discuss it in detail with the Prefect!"

Looking into Zhang Zhongjing's eyes, where the enthusiasm for research was genuine and not merely perfunctory, Ji Xuanyuan felt as if a wisp of hope had been injected into his heart, quietly brightening a little.

"Thank you for your trouble, sir." He bowed deeply.