Chapter 14: A Muddled Past
Hu Feng finished eating, put down his bowl, and left without another word.
Bai Zhi gave his departing figure a strange look and asked in a low voice, "Uncle Hu, why doesn’t Hu Feng like to talk?"
Uncle Hu sighed. "It’s a sad story. Hu Feng is a pitiful soul. Three years ago, I went up the mountain to cut firewood. On my way back, I found him in a hidden ditch at the foot of the mountain. He was severely injured—especially his head—and had lost a lot of blood. Seeing he was still alive, I carried him back home and even hired a doctor to treat him. But who would have thought? When he woke up, he couldn’t remember a thing, not even his own name. He’s been living with me in a daze like that for three years."
"I mean, just look at him. Does he really seem like someone from a poor mountain gully like us? He likes to keep clean, he’s literate, and he even knows martial arts. He’s definitely no ordinary person. He’s just forgotten who he is for now. I just don’t know when he’ll remember."
Bai Zhi was a doctor—a top physician from the 23rd century’s Mingxing Hospital. She had studied traditional Chinese medicine until the age of eighteen before moving on to Western medicine. She could do everything from administering acupuncture and performing alchemy to carrying out craniotomies and reattaching limbs.
Hearing Uncle Hu’s words, her medical instincts kicked in. ’After such a severe head injury, he must have a large hematoma inside his skull. The clot is likely pressing on his cranial nerves. It can cause blindness in some, cognitive impairment in others, or, in his case, amnesia.’
’Such a condition wasn’t rare in the 23rd century, and the treatment was simple. You just had to open the skull and clear out the clotted blood. It wasn’t considered a major operation, and statistically, it had a ninety percent success rate.’
Bai Zhi had performed such surgeries over a hundred times herself, with a one hundred percent success rate.
But unfortunately, she was in another world now. She had nothing here; an operation was out of the question.
By then, the rain outside had stopped, and the sky was still bright. Summer days were long; she reckoned it was about six o’clock, with at least another hour of daylight left.
Zhao Lan had Bai Zhi carry their quilt as they left Uncle Hu’s house and went to the small wooden hut behind the courtyard. Though small, the hut was large enough for the two of them. There was no bed inside, only piles of clutter. Bai Zhi decided to be resourceful, piecing together some wooden planks and spreading dry grass over them to create a makeshift bed.
She glanced at the blood and mud staining Zhao Lan’s clothes, then quickly stood and shut the hut’s door. "Mom, you should change into something clean. While there’s still daylight, I’ll go wash these for you."
Zhao Lan hesitated. "With my hand like this, I don’t think I can move. How will I change?"
This was hardly a challenge for Bai Zhi. "I’ll help you," she offered. "I promise I won’t aggravate the wound."
As a doctor, she knew exactly what to do. With a few deft movements, she helped Zhao Lan out of her soiled clothes. The bloodstains needed to be washed out as soon as possible; the longer they sat, the harder they would be to clean, especially in an era without powerful detergents.
She changed into clean clothes herself, stuffed their dirty garments into a wooden basin, and, guided by the memories of her body’s previous owner, headed to the river to do the laundry.
When she reached the river at the village entrance, a crowd had gathered on the bank. Everyone was chattering excitedly, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Suddenly, a voice sharp enough to pierce the sky rang out, "They found her! They found her! They’re pulling her out! They’ve pulled Yingzi out!"
She pushed her way through the crowd and saw Hu Feng carrying a girl about her own age onto the bank. Both of them were soaked to the bone. The girl’s arm hung limply, her face was deathly pale, and she appeared to be unconscious.