PCJ – Chapter 120 Ordinary Medicine

Liu Zongtai put down the things and was about to leave.

“Stay and have a meal before you go. The food is already cooked,” Zhang Youping hurriedly urged.

“No need, no need. After what happened yesterday, my house is a mess. I might have to buy another cow in the coming days,” Liu Zongtai shook his head, his face showing a bitter expression as he left.

“Liu Zongtai’s family probably has the best conditions in Meizi’ao. Even without farming, their situation wouldn’t be worse than others. Risking his life for a cow, and almost dragging our son into it, what was the point?” Liu Qiaoye still harbored resentment towards Liu Zongtai.

“No one expected such a thing to happen. Since our son is fine, let’s just let it go,” Zhang Youping, appearing magnanimous, spoke. But in reality, if something had happened to Zhang Jiaohua, he would have been much more enraged than Liu Qiaoye, likely storming over to Liu’s house.

Liu Qiaoye smiled, knowing her husband well enough to say no more.

“Jiaohua, didn’t you want to make some kind of soup?” Zhang Youping was still skeptical that his son really understood medicinal herbs. Despite his confident explanations while gathering herbs, it was hard for Zhang Youping to believe that he could learn so much from a dream.

“Qi-restoring soup. I’ve told you so many times, but you never remember,” Zhang Jiaohua expressed his dissatisfaction with his father’s memory.

“Your dad often ranked last in his school exams,” Liu Qiaoye joked.

“Don’t make things up. I was pretty much average,” Zhang Youping awkwardly laughed, feeling embarrassed by his wife’s revelation in front of their son.

“Dad, if you did poorly in school, how can you expect me to come first? I’m not talking to you anymore,” Zhang Jiaohua felt he had been wronged.

“Dad just wants the best for you. I’ve suffered from my lack of education, unable to read many words, and couldn’t even find my way around when I left our town. Many from our village, who are about my age, have gone to Guangdong to make a living. If I were educated, I would have done the same,” Zhang Youping said regretfully.

Zhang Jiaohua squatted down, selecting herbs and placing them all into a pot. The alchemy cauldron his old Taoist master used in his dream was very advanced, but Zhang Jiaohua couldn’t replicate it. At home, the only thing they could heat was the pot. So he took the large pot used for boiling water, filled it to the brim with herbs, and, unable to lift it, called his father for help. He then scooped water from the cistern, pouring it into the pot until the herbs were submerged.

Neither Zhang Youping nor Liu Qiaoye interfered with Zhang Jiaohua’s actions, merely offering assistance when needed. 

However, making medicine was different from regular brewing; it required precise control of heat based on the medicinal process. Zhang Jiaohua meticulously followed his old Taoist master’s steps from memory, though controlling the heat was particularly challenging. Despite this, the fact that this was a simple Qi-restoring soup and not a complex elixir meant minor imperfections wouldn’t be too detrimental.

At first, the medicinal scent wasn’t different from regular Chinese medicine, leading Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye to believe Zhang Jiaohua had merely learned ordinary medical skills.

“Are we really going to let Jiaohua drink this herbal concoction later?” Liu Qiaoye whispered anxiously to Zhang Youping.

“It should be fine. I’ll taste it first. If nothing happens to me, Jiaohua can drink it,” Zhang Youping reassured her after some thought.

“But what if something does happen?” Liu Qiaoye was still worried, as both her husband and son were indispensable to her.

“Don’t worry. I’ll drink a little bit first; it won’t cause any harm,” Zhang Youping forced a smile.

Zhang Jiaohua didn’t notice his parents’ murmuring, his entire focus on the herbs in the pot.

Before they knew it, most of the water had evaporated, and the medicinal fragrance began to change.

“Hey, this scent!” Zhang Youping sniffed sharply, staring in astonishment at the pot.

The fire under the pot had been reduced to a weak flame, yet the broth inside continued to simmer with minimal steam escaping.

It was the first time Liu Qiaoye had smelled such a fragrant medicine, leaving her equally wide-eyed in disbelief.

Zhang Jiaohua recited incantations while adding water to replenish the evaporated liquid in the pot.

“Just as the sun rises, with the magic of the path in hand, look up to the sky, with the master by my side. Call upon the left spirit, call upon the right spirit, without calling they come, call upon the ancestor to refine medicine, call upon Hua Tuo to refine medicine, call upon the Medicine King to refine medicine, four kinds of celestial medicines at hand, refining essence into elixir.”

With each added bowl of water, the aroma of the medicinal broth intensified. After nine invocations and water additions, taking several hours, the herbs in the pot transformed into a liquid amber-like substance, exuding a fragrance that could intoxicate.

“Do I still need to taste this medicine first?” Zhang Youping asked.

Liu Qiaoye, unsure, thought for a moment and replied, “Never mind. It seems the old Taoist master in Jiaohua’s dream must be a very powerful deity.”

“Yes, only a deity could produce such divine medicine,” Zhang Youping nodded.

In fact, this was the simplest of ordinary medicines. Otherwise, with Zhang Jiaohua’s current skills and lack of proper rituals, he couldn’t have summoned any significant deity. The bell in his hand, however, was closely related. The previous owner’s residual spirit within it had, by some chance, merged with Zhang Jiaohua, enabling him to manifest the bell’s mystical properties.

After the ninth refinement, only a small bowl of the golden liquid remained in the pot, which, when poured out, stretched into golden threads like syrup. The fragrance was so alluring that both Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye wanted to taste it. Knowing this broth could restore their son, they scraped the pot clean, fearing even the slightest waste.

“Jiaohua, let it cool before drinking. Don’t burn your mouth,” Zhang Youping advised as his son eagerly prepared to drink the medicine.

“The old Taoist master said it should be drunk hot. Though it looks hot, it won’t burn,” Zhang Jiaohua explained before taking a large gulp. To his delight, the medicine tasted just like the one his master had made in his dream, warm and pleasant, without any heat.