Chapter 52: A New Prescription. Song Qingshu

woke up in He Feng's arms this morning. He hadn't slept well the previous night, his brow furrowed.

Fearing he might have a fever, He Feng would kiss his forehead from time to time, holding hands with Song Qingshu, never letting go all night.

"Does it hurt?" He Feng kissed his forehead. Song Qingshu's hair was soft, not prickly, just a little itchy.

Feeling a little better than yesterday, Song Qingshu shook his head and softly said, "No."

Reassured, He Feng got up and dressed him, buttoning his clothes one by one.

There was a knock at the door. It was Sun Jing'an, bringing breakfast. He hadn't seen He Feng the night before; he'd only heard him say to leave it at the door.

Sun Jing'an was forced to get up early to buy food. The downsides of having a foodie in the house were now fully apparent.

Because he'd been woken by pinching his nose, the moment he opened his eyes, he saw Sun Jinglin sprawled beside his pillow, his bright eyes twinkling. "Brother, the soup dumplings in the provincial capital are delicious. Let's go get some!"

Sun Jing'an nodded in agreement. Just as he was about to snooze for another five minutes, a hand pinched his ear again, and someone whispered in his ear, "I want some soup dumplings!"

Now all sleepiness was gone.

"He Feng, are you guys up? I bought breakfast. Let's go to the hospital afterward."

He Feng opened the door and saw Sun Jing'an pressed against it. "If you want to take him to a doctor, don't eat anything this morning. I bought you some."

"Okay." He Feng stood outside, eating his soup dumplings. They were a little hot, but he devoured them quickly.

Sun Jingan bumped into He Feng's shoulder, "I didn't expect you to be like this."

He Feng's lips curled up a little, and he asked curiously: "What's it like?"

"When I was in the army, I always felt that you were not afraid of anything, and didn't care about anything. You saved your money and didn't spend it. You were completely different from us."

He Feng swallowed the buns, "That's because you didn't see it. I was afraid of death and wanted to go home to honor my parents, but when I went home, my parents were gone."

He leaned against the wall, "Later, I really wasn't afraid of anything."

"Since I met him, I know what fear is. Such a thin person, when he bumped into my arms, I didn't feel any strength."

Sun Jingan ate slowly, without interrupting, ready to listen quietly. He Feng would not reveal his thoughts to others before, but now he is really different.

A voice like a clear spring came from the room, calling brother.

He Feng pulled fifty yuan from his pocket and thrust it at Sun Jing'an. Sun Jing'an refused, frowning and saying, "I'm not talking about money. I just see how heavy your heart is, and I want to lighten the mood."

"This is a thank you gift, a thank you for coming with us," He Feng insisted.

"Why are we talking about this? Just treat me to a meal when you get back. You still need to take him to a Western doctor. Surgery is going to cost a fortune, so save some money for now."

This indeed wavered He Feng's resolve. His hand faltered in mid-air, and Sun Jing'an pushed it back. "Keep it. I'll go get our young master."

He Feng stuffed the money into his pocket and went back inside. "What's wrong, son?"

Actually, it was nothing, but Song Qingshu had grown accustomed to He Feng's presence, and when he wasn't around, he felt uneasy.

"I'm a little hungry." He had only eaten a little last night, coaxed by He Feng, but he only drank half a bowl of porridge and refused to eat anymore.

He Feng hadn't known he couldn't eat that morning, so he didn't feed him much. Now he regretted it.

He poured him a glass of warm water. "Son, you have to go to the hospital for a checkup today. Don't eat yet. I'll buy you whatever you want afterward, okay?"

"Yes." Song Qingshu still had some common sense. He took He Feng's hand and drank a few sips of water, his lips soft and radiant.

He Feng leaned down and kissed him. "Good boy."

He Feng took the glass and drank the rest of the warm water. He wrapped a scarf around Song Qingshu and led him out, wrapped like a little penguin.

It had snowed last night, and He Feng, fearing he'd be cold, took Song Qingshu's slightly cool hand in his own, his rough hand pressed against his smooth, soft palm.

The four of them had no luggage except for Sun Jinglin's army-green canvas bag. After asking for directions, they headed straight for the nearest major hospital.

There wasn't much snow on the main roads of the provincial capital, but there was a little ice. They had to be careful walking; if they broke a bone, it could be serious.

After walking for about twenty minutes, the people around him were already tired. He Feng squatted down and asked Song Qingshu to get on, so he could carry him on his back.

Song Qingshu's breathing quickened. He hadn't exercised much at home, so he was feeling a bit uncomfortable. He threw himself on He Feng's back and obediently let him carry him.

Sun Jinglin, carrying a bulging canvas bag, was also a bit tired. He immediately went on strike, pointing at the squatting He Feng and saying that he was tired too and his knees were hurting.

Sun Jing'an knew how to see through his tricks. At the Sun family, if he felt even the slightest discomfort, he would be immediately fed a bowl of medicine. Even the weakest part of his body could be mended over the years.

He squatted down and said, "Young Master, come on up."

After walking for another twenty minutes, they saw the Provincial People's Hospital. Song Qingshu fell asleep on his broad back again.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were not familiar with the procedures, so they had to be accompanied by someone to help them check in. Finally, they went through various examinations under the guidance of the doctor.

Song Qingshu was gently awakened by He Feng's gentle call. He stood before him, dazed, and was led by him to have his blood drawn.

After going through the various procedures, it was almost noon. Some test forms would not be available until the afternoon, so they all ate together in the hospital.

As soon as the blood was drawn and it was confirmed that he could eat something, He Feng stuffed a candy into Song Qingshu's mouth and gave one to Sun Jinglin.

Sun Jinglin opened the canvas bag and found not only candy but also chocolate, fruit leather, and some other shredded food. He ran to ask Song Qingshu if he wanted anything to eat.

Song Qingshu held the candy in his mouth and shook his head. The candy in Sun Jinglin's bag was different from the one He Feng had brought. Sun Jinglin reached out and grabbed the one in He Feng's hand, twisted it open, and popped it into his mouth.

The dining area in the hospital was crowded. Some people still had needles in their hands, some were still bandaged, and some looked hurried, buying their meals and leaving with their lunch boxes.

Song Qingshu had hated the smell of hospitals since he was a child. The strong smell of disinfectant and his parents' disappointed faces were his entire memory of hospitals.

He Feng and his friends didn't have lunch boxes, so they just sat here to eat. The noisy voices became the background, and they sat here to talk.

"Are you going back after seeing the doctor?" Sun Jinglin asked while gnawing on a chicken wing.

He Feng didn't answer, but turned to look at Song Qingshu. Their eyes met, and Song Qingshu smiled, "Well, I miss Xiaohua and Xiaohei, and the students in the village."

"Oh yes, you are Teacher Xiao Song! Who are Xiaohua and Xiaohei?"

Song Qingshu also became more energetic when he mentioned this, "It's a calico kitten and a big black dog."

"The calico has grown a lot since I picked it up. It's chubby and its fur is soft to the touch."

"I want to raise one too, but the old man doesn't like animals and won't let me." He poked the rice, and Sun Jingan beside him smiled, "That's because he's afraid that you'll poison the kittens and puppies to death."

Sun Jinglin widened his eyes, obviously not believing it.

"When you were little, I don't know where you caught a little bird. Not only didn't you feed it insects, you fed it medicinal herbs. It was practically overnourished."

Sun Jing'an sorted through his lean meat and placed it on his plate, taking the fat he had picked out and eating it himself.

Seeing the vacant expression on Sun Jinglin's face, Song Qingshu couldn't help but laugh. It felt a bit like the look

on Xiaohua's face when he suddenly rubbed her and then left. His eyes were filled with disbelief.

The two of them chatted and joked while He Feng deboned the chicken wings and placed the meat on Song Qingshu's plate. "Eat more, little one. You must be hungry."

Not long after finishing their meal, they ran to various departments to get prescriptions and then returned to the doctor.

The doctor stared at the lines and another dark film, then took another piece of paper and frowned.

"It's not good. A heart condition like this shouldn't grow this big."

Even though he was prepared, the moment he said that, Song Qingshu looked at He Feng anxiously, afraid he would show the same disappointed expression he remembered his parents.

But He Feng was simply anxious. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Surgery has risks. It depends on whether you can accept them." The doctor paused. "The success rate is only 30%."

Song Qingshu lowered his eyes and bit his lip, his gaze fixed on his and He Feng's clasped hands. He Feng's warmth radiated steadily, and a light sweat formed on their palms. The

two men behind him didn't find it surprising. The doctor's words were already very cautious. At a smaller hospital, there might not even be a 10% chance of success.

Song Qingshu squeezed He Feng's hand and took the initiative to tell the doctor, "Then we can't treat it. Thank you, doctor."

He stood up and took He Feng's hand as they walked out. They both knew that neither of them could bear the consequences of a failed operation.

It would be better to continue seeing the Chinese doctor. At least, he wouldn't leave completely without a word.

Outside the doctor's office, Song Qingshu raised his eyes to look at He Feng. Their pupils trembled for a moment as their eyes met. He Feng leaned down and kissed the corner of his eye. "Let's try the Chinese doctor again."

"Yes." Song Qingshu blinked, his eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly about to take flight.

Sun Jinglin gathered the pile of reports and stuffed them into a canvas bag. He and Sun Jing'an then inquired about Song Qingshu's condition before heading out.

It was still cold outside the hospital, a white mist billowing from their conversation. They hurried back to the clinic Sun Jing'an and Sun Jinglin had been visiting.

Sun Jing'an explained that he hadn't been there in ages, and that Sun Jinglin had been a child the last time, so he couldn't remember the way.

They asked around as they walked, finally finding the clinic just before closing time. Song Qingshu lay huddled on He Feng's back, unmoving. The three of them assumed he was asleep.

Upon arrival, Song Qingshu asked He Feng to put him down.

Sun Jing'an, holding Sun Jinglin in his arms, walked inside and called out, "Grandpa." The pale-haired, goateed old man inside turned to look.

"Jing'an?" he asked, a little unsure. Someone beside him urged him to stand up. He leaned over, and Sun Jing'an smiled and nodded. "It's me, this is Jinglin."

The old man beamed, inviting the two to sit down and sending someone beside him to pour tea.

Sun Jinglin obediently called out "Grandpa," "Take his pulse first."

"This is my friend. He has a congenital heart disease. He went to a Western doctor today, and they said it's incurable and requires surgery."

The old man wouldn't refuse. He asked Song Qingshu to sit in front of him, his wrinkled hand resting on Song Qingshu's fair wrist. Because his pulse was weak, he pressed down a little.

Sun Jinglin rummaged through his small bag again, pulling out two prewritten prescriptions. He held them in his hand, waiting for the old man to open his eyes before handing them over.

"This one's from you, and the other one's from me. I'm missing some herbs, so I looked them up in medical books. I wanted to ask if you could help me,"

Sun Jinglin said sheepishly, scratching his head.

Afraid the old man might misunderstand, he added, "If you can come up with a better prescription, that'd be great. As long as it can save a life, that's all that matters."

The old man's silver hair looked soft and shiny, and his goatee was completely white. He had to squint to read the words.

After a long while, he snorted, "He's still so bold. Is this prescription for saving lives or harming people?"

"What about mine?" Sun Jinglin came over and asked.

He stroked his beard, "I do have these herbs." Turning around, he called to the person standing in front of the medicine cabinet, "Bring me a penny of dendrobium."

"Your prescription is good, but it's still missing a few herbs. I'll add them for you."

The apprentice beside him brought tea and a piece of paper, asking the old man to write down the prescription.

Holding the brush in his hand, he picked up the pen and wrote: Placenta, Corydalis, Chicken's Gizzard Stone, Panax Notoginseng, Schisandra Chinensis, Codonopsis pilosula, Santalum album, Fritillaria cirrhosa, Ophiopogon japonicus, Carrot, Polygonatum sibiricum... (1)

Only a few people present could understand it. Song Qingshu just felt that he had written a lot of things. The characters were connected, probably in cursive, and it looked messy.

After he finished writing, Sun Jinglin came over to read it all over. "We don't have this medicine."

He was pointing at Ziheche (2). He knew the efficacy of this thing, but he had never seen it. In fact, if patients knew the specific ingredients of many Chinese medicinal materials,

they might not be able to swallow them. But this medicine, he had always rejected since he was a child.

"It's impossible that it doesn't exist. You can't just take it casually. You can take it when you go back."

The old man stroked his beard and handed over the prescription.

"This prescription can't guarantee that it will completely cure the disease, but it will make you feel much better and your body will slowly recover. It's difficult to cure the problem of the heart. Don't be anxious when you encounter things in the future. Don't be too happy or too sad."

Song Qingshu nodded after being reminded by him. He Feng agreed. "How often should I take this medicine?" "

How long has it been since you took that medicine last time?"

"Three days." He Feng replied immediately. "I fainted yesterday because I felt uncomfortable."

"Then take it in two days." He picked up the cup and took a sip of tea, looking at Sun Jinglin and Sun Jingan beside him.

"You guys wait a little longer. Someone will come to deliver a batch of dendrobium on the 12th day of the first lunar month. You can get the full amount then leave."

Sun Jinglin was at the age of playing, so he agreed and asked what to do if Song Qingshu needed to drink the medicine.

"It's just right to boil it here. Let Acheng teach him how to boil it." He said this to He Feng.

He Feng agreed and excitedly shook Song Qingshu's hand tightly with a smile on his face.

If he had known it would be so easy, he would have brought Song Qingshu to the provincial capital to see a doctor from the beginning.

The old man saw what He Feng was thinking, "This prescription is not something that can be thought of in a short time. I heard him say that you are sick before. He has been thinking about it for more than ten years. If it weren't for Jinglin's prescription, he might not be able to make up for it."

His eyes fell on Song Qingshu's face. With his chin covered by the scarf, Song Qingshu looked more obedient. A pair of black and shiny eyes blinked on his fair face.

"It's God's will, this child looks blessed."

"Thank you." Song Qingshu bowed earnestly, and He Feng also bowed with him.