A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

The military clerk failed in his attempt to seize power and left in disgrace.

Yang Hu initially thought that the other party would quiet down after encountering a setback. However, he ultimately underestimated the viciousness of that hand. A few days later, a major incident occurred in the West Camp.

One by one, the soldiers in the camp started getting stomach aches.

This wouldn't normally be unusual. In the army, with its simple meals, it's common for one or two people to get an upset stomach. But this time, something seemed off.

At first, it was only two or three soldiers suffering from vomiting and diarrhea, and feeling completely exhausted. But in just one or two days, the number of soldiers with diarrhea began to rise in droves, with some experiencing diarrhea more than ten times a day, leaving them emaciated and unable to get out of their tents.

In just two or three days, over a hundred soldiers collapsed.

The wounded soldiers' camp was suddenly overflowing with soldiers vomiting and suffering from diarrhea; filth was everywhere, and the stench was overwhelming. The camp, which was already lacking in medical supplies, was thrown into chaos, with everyone living in fear.

This time, it wasn't frostbite or arrow wounds that caused the fall, but rather an invisible and intangible plague, more terrifying than knives and arrows.

"It's an epidemic!" Panic gripped the troops. "An epidemic has broken out in the camp!"

The army doctor and physician Liu treated the patient as if it were a common gastrointestinal ailment, using both antidiarrheal and warming tonics, but to no avail; the diarrhea showed no signs of abating.

Upon hearing the news, Yang Hu rushed over, squatted down, and, ignoring the pungent stench, carefully examined the soldiers suffering from diarrhea.

After taking his pulse, examining his tongue, and checking his eyelids—a complete set of diagnostic methods—his brows gradually furrowed.

Their lips were cracked, their eyes sunken, and their skin so tight it wouldn't spring back up after being pinched. They had been purging so severely that they were almost completely dehydrated. If this continued, they would die of exhaustion within a few days.

He understood perfectly well.

This is not an ordinary gastrointestinal disease.

It's dysentery. It's caused by eating unclean food and drinking dirty water, which allows foul air to enter the intestines and stomach, resulting in widespread diarrhea. If one or two people get sick, but entire groups fall ill, that's an epidemic. Disease enters through the mouth, and the source is often the same water shared in the mouth.

"It's water." Yang Hu made a quick decision, his eyes darkening. "Illness enters through the mouth. This widespread diarrhea must be due to something wrong with the water the camp is drinking."

This was the root of the illness that he could see at a glance, thanks to his many years of medical practice and his knowledge of disease prevention. What seemed like a mysterious plague to others was nothing more than a mouthful of dirty water to him.

He immediately gave the order: seal off all water sources in the entire camp and conduct a thorough investigation.

The army relied entirely on the few wells in the camp for drinking water. If the water became dirty, it would be a disaster for the entire camp.

Sure enough, the well in the camp, which was used by the soldiers for drinking, had murky water, and the well was filthy, with some kind of rotten stuff soaking in it.

The root of the problem lies in this well.

The well water is so filthy, no wonder so many soldiers in the camp are suffering from diarrhea. It's clear that illness enters through the mouth.

"Seal the well," Yang Hu ordered. "No one is allowed to drink the water from this well anymore. All water must be boiled before drinking. Soldiers with diarrhea should be moved to a separate area, isolated from the others."

Sealing wells, isolating people, and boiling water – this set of epidemic prevention methods is unheard of.

"If the well is sealed, what will the brothers drink?" a soldier asked, puzzled.

"Boiling water is such a hassle to drink!"

Yang Hu ignored the doubts and simply carried out the arrangements one by one with great efficiency.

As for the soldiers who had already dehydrated and were on the verge of death, he used the same life-saving method: he added a little salt and maltose to the rice water and fed it to them slowly, spoonful by spoonful.

"He's already having diarrhea like this, and you're still giving him water? Isn't that just killing him?" Physician Liu exclaimed in surprise once again.

"If you lose all your water, you'll die." Yang Hu said without looking up. "This salt and sugar rice soup is to replenish the water that's been lost. Once it's replenished, the person will recover."

This method, incredibly simple, once again proved remarkably effective amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd.

Those soldiers who were originally on the verge of death from diarrhea were given salt, sugar, and rice soup, and their bodies were sealed off from the disease and isolated. In just two or three days, their diarrhea subsided, and their emaciated bodies gradually regained their strength.

The widespread dysentery outbreak was abruptly suppressed.

The isolated patients recovered one by one; the remaining soldiers, drinking boiled water, did not fall ill again. A major epidemic that was about to engulf half of the western camp was thus neutralized by a sealed well, a pot of boiling water, and a bowl of rice soup.

The entire camp was in uproar.

"Amazing! Sealing the well, boiling water, and giving everyone a bowl of rice porridge—that's how they contained this deadly epidemic!"

"Following Physician Yang, we're not even afraid of an epidemic!"

Having practiced medicine for forty years, Physician Liu was once again speechless with astonishment by the skills of this young Physician Assistant.

This incident further enhanced the young medical officer's skills and prestige within the Western Camp. Those soldiers who had previously held him in some contempt now spoke of "Medical Officer Yang" with complete respect.

When these words reached Yang Hu's ears, he pretended not to hear them.

Once the epidemic in the camp had completely subsided, Yang Hu squatted alone by the sealed well, carefully examining the rotten filth he had retrieved from it by the daylight.

The filth didn't look like ordinary dirty stuff that fell into a well; it seemed as if someone had deliberately thrown it into the life-saving water of this battalion of soldiers.

This well is usually guarded by a designated person, and the rules for drinking water are strict. How could it have become so dirty for no reason, and have been soaked with these rotten and foul-smelling things of unknown origin?

Each and every one of these things is strange.

This dysentery epidemic came too strangely, too coincidentally.

Just when he was most focused on checking the accounts and his hand was most restless, the camp's well became this dirty. What a coincidence!

He recalled the look on the face of the military clerk a few days ago when he failed to seize power and left dejectedly.

He sealed the well, isolated the affected areas, and rescued people. He successfully controlled the dysentery epidemic, but he knew in his heart that the contaminated well was probably not a natural disaster, but rather another underhanded trick handed over by that hand after failing to seize power.

They started by using the camp's well, then orchestrated a dysentery epidemic to kill people discreetly, and then blamed the deaths of all the soldiers on him, the newly appointed medical officer who was constantly checking the accounts. Who would believe the accounts of a quack doctor who caused deaths?

Using someone else to do the dirty work, and then splashing dirty water on them—killing two birds with one stone. This is the true, malicious scheme of that hand.

Yang Hu held the rotten remains he had pulled from the well, his eyes gradually turning cold.

In this round, the opponent is no longer trying to seize power or exert pressure, but rather trying to kill him outright.

Using an epidemic as a pretext, they killed an entire battalion of people and then framed him for it. What a ruthless and elaborate scheme!

On that snowy night, the hand hidden in the shadows struck again. Using the pretext of the plague to kill, they framed him. Since the other side dared to harm the soldiers' life-saving water, they would use any insidious method imaginable.

This time, Yang Hu knew that a confrontation more dangerous and shady than open warfare was just around the corner.

The clump of decaying matter pulled from the bottom of the well was still dripping water and emitted an indescribable fishy smell. The surrounding soldiers took a half step back, and not one of them spoke.

After that well was sealed off, the entire camp had to fetch water from a mountain spring three miles away. The line of people carrying water stretched all the way to the camp gate, and not a single person complained.

Someone in the water-carrying team asked in a low voice, "When will this well be opened?" No one could answer.

He gripped the piece of rotten matter he had fished out tightly, his eyes as cold as the winter night in this border region.