Chapter 49: Chapter 47: Doctor’s Visit

   The building was two floors, sticking out slightly from the other shops around it. The wood had been carefully treated and painted a dark color so that it would last longer. The scent of a hundred different herbs came from it, as well as the distinct scent of fresh water and vinegar.

 

  Technically, he was closed at the moment. He had shut the door and put up a sign saying not to knock except for emergencies. There were three other doctors, with assistants, in the town if they needed someone for something lesser.

 

  Even if it were for an emergency, the severity would also depend on how fast he would respond.

 

  The middle of the building had a small open courtyard that he laid in the middle in, submerged in the water as he looked up at the walls where shelves holding various potted medicinal plants sent trailing little streamers into the pool, tinting everything a silvery green.

 

  It was a peaceful place, in an already peaceful town.

 

  Or at least it would have been peaceful if a familiar shadow did not intrude upon the light in the pond.

 

  Two hands plunged into the water and he swam downwards, just out of the hands reach. He weighed whether he wanted to see what the intruder wanted or just remain in the water and pretend he was not there.

 

  The blurry shape above did not move so he felt his stomach drop a little. So much for relaxation. He twisted his shape, poking his head out of the water. His hair swirled around his neck. “Lang Lang.”

 

  “Doctor Lin!” Lang Lang smiled. “Why did you swim away from me?”

 

  “I’m trying to rest.”

 

  “But you’re a doctor!”

 

  Lin sucked in a deep breath, “what is it Lang Lang?”

 

  “Well, I need you to come look at someone.” He said. “She’s not doing very well.”

 

  Lin remembered hearing that Lang Lang had brought in a new foundling. Hua had come in to prattle on about it while giving him some new cuttings and seeds she had found. It had been a small thin thing, shivering and terrified as it clung to Lang Lang. But like most things in the town, it was not his business unless it was made his business.

 

  Unfortunately it seemed Lang Lang was going to make it his business.

 

  He heaved himself out of the water, his feet touching the soft earth. “By not ‘doing very well’, what do you mean?” He asked.

 

  “She’s very pale and thin, weak, and her skin feels kind of sweaty and cold,” Lang Lang described, listing it off his fingers before looking at Lin. “Also I think you should put some clothing on. You might get cold.”

 

  “I know, thank you.”

 

  Lin was dressed, his hair was still damp, and his back was weighed down by the medicine chest he carried on it. Lang Lang had offered to carry it but Lin did not trust it to make it back to his practice in one piece. Lang Lang had a habit of misplacing things.

 

  They went down the quiet street that lead to the shrine in the middle of the town. Even without immediately seeing it he could feel its presence. It was like a drying wind over his spirit which recoiled slightly in its shell.

 

  The shrine itself was well made, built with chalk colored stone and faintly creaking elm. As he got closer the faint breeze became a pressure, not like the familiar comforting pressure of water. But like a weight against his bones. As they stepped inside together the pressure abruptly vanished and was replaced with a dull deep thrumming in his chest. They went past the statue of a kindly faced maiden and a steadfast wolf-dog to go through a hall that smelled like must.

 

  The clinking of the objects in the medicine chest was the only sound outside of their soft footsteps as they reached a small room. Inside there were drawings, old drawings, on the wall of people, dogs, and other harder to recognize things, a single open window where a faint real breeze rolled in, and a small bed that an even smaller thin child laid on. Lin’s first impression was of a mass of dark red, like blood, which he quickly realized was in fact just hair. The child had a headful of deep red hair that was in a terrible knotted mess and it seemed to be the only thing with any vitality to her wan form. Near the bed was a small empty bowl and cup.

 

  He approached carefully, setting the chest down from his back on the ground. He could feel Lang Lang’s presence shadowing behind him, like a worried mother. The child did not stir as he leaned over her and gently picked up her tiny arm, holding her wrist and pressing his thumb lightly into her wrist.

 

  Immediately his brows furrowed in deep concern. The skin was tepid, neither hot nor cold. Her pulse was slow, sluggish even. He placed his other hand against her forehead and found it felt the same.

 

  “Lang Lang, where did you find her?” He asked.

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  “Hm. At an altar.”

 

  Lin turned his head to Lang Lang. “An altar? Explain.”

 

  “Oh yes, there were some unhappy people gathered in a dying forest who were going to sacrifice her to some demon that had been attacking their city,” Lang Lang spoke with a weird melancholic casualness. He scratched his chin and his gold eyes looked away for a moment as though he were thinking of something, “...they had hurt her badly. I thought I had managed to heal much of the worst part of her injuries. I’m not a doctor though.”

 

  “Where? Where were the injuries?” Lin pressed.

 

  “On her head, and she had bruises on her arms,” Lang Lang described, gesturing to spots on her head.

 

  Lin ran his fingers over her scalp, finding crusted blood and a few thick scabs that looked to be healing well. “That’s not it,” he muttered. He looked further down, pulling the blanket away. Her clothes obviously had not been changed since Lang Lang found her. They were dirty and stained with blood, with tattering where she had been dragged, he suspected. But none of this answered his concerns. If all the open wounds were healing fine, what else could be causing her state?

 

  Lin took both her hands and pulled so she was sitting up. Was it something internal then? Did he remember his acupuncture needles and potions? He was fairly sure he had stocked them all before leaving. He put his hands on her stomach, which rose and fell, faintly. But his fingers pushed against something wet on her side. A strange medicinal smell hit him and as he removed his fingers he found faint red stains on the fabric.

 

  He pulled away part of her tattered robe and despite his long lives of treating illnesses and wounds he still found himself recoiling slightly. There was a large chunk of flesh on her side that was the color of advanced rot, spreading dark veins over into yet-uncorrupted flesh. The place he had pressed too hard into was oozing a dark trickle of blood that had the consistency of syrup or sap he found as he touched it.

 

  “What’s wrong? Doctor Lin? You look upset!” Lang Lang asked worriedly, tugging at him.

 

  He was pouring through his own mental library. A child’s body, especially such an underfed sickly looking one should not be surviving its current state. The wound on her side was clearly rotting, the blood was unnatural but it smelled like medicine which was not the sign of a possessed corpse. She still had a pulse, was still breathing, and was ingesting food. “...This child should be dead,” he said. “No. She was dead. Something brought her back.”

 

  “...Can you help her, Doctor Lin?” Lang Lang tipped his head to the side, clearly not understanding Lin.

 

  “She’s… I don’t know. She’s not actually alive, but she’s not dead either. She was being sustained by something,” Lin tried to think what would be used. What sort of spell or enchantment. Besides the scarring, rot-plagued flesh, and bruises, she had no sigils or the like drawn on her. He moved her so she was laying back down on the bed.

 

  Suddenly her eyes opened, but they were unfocused. “Liu Xie??” She asked in a tiny scared voice. “...Liu Xie?? Liu Xie???” Then she closed her eyes.

 

  A bright spark went off in his mind, “oh! Willows! I have willow bark in my chest. Maybe that can help. Lang Lang, go boil some water.”

 

  “Ah, okay!” He got to his feet and quickly left the room.

 

  Lin crouched down beside his chest to pull out two slabs of willow bark from one of the chest’s small cubbyholes, as well as an old pestle and mortar. The willow bark was rather old, but it would have to do and he set about pulverizing it in the mortar. He was not even sure if his idea would work, but it was better than nothing. Willows had pain relieving as well as purification properties, perhaps that would help. He wondered how she was not already dead, part of him longed to cut into the decayed flesh and see what was going on beneath it that allowed her to endure it.

 

  “I’m back!” Lang Lang announced, nearly shoving the hot tea pot into Lin’s face.

 

  “Thank you, I can see that,” Lin said, his thoughts lingering on his patient. “Actually, Lang Lang. I may need to take her to my practice occasionally. I want to check on some things and I only have the equipment and supplies there.”

 

  Lang Lang nodded, “of course, I wouldn’t second guess the best doctor in town after all.”

 

  “What have you been feeding her?” Lin asked, already focused on his new research project.

 

  “Rice.”

 

  “...Just rice? Lang Lang that’s not enough!”

 

  "I... I don't know what else to do, that's what most others said to feed sick people," Lang Lang mumbled while looking down.

 

  Lin pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. Of course a dog would do as others suggest. He put the crushed willow bark into the hot kettle. "She needs more than just congee. Try putting something like chicken broth or eggs or-" he paused while looking at Lang Lang. Lang Lang, for all his kindness, was not particularly wise about some things. Lin was already imagining Lang Lang thinking he could squeeze broth out of a living chicken. "Never mind, I'll drop off some ingredients you can use until she's hopefully... in a better condition." He glanced back at her, wondering what the 'better condition' looked like for some one neither truly alive or dead.

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