Don't Put Dirt on Wounds
The next morning was pretty quiet.
Cho Hyang hadn't come in because she was out gathering herbs, and follow-up visits for yesterday's patients? Those wouldn't be for at least a week or a month, so plenty of time to relax.
I'd arrived at the clinic early, brewed some tea leaves, boiled water in the kettle, and leisurely sipped away for an hour or two.
And during that time, not a single soul came to Namgye Clinic!
If I were running a normal practice, I'd seriously consider closing up shop. Not that I care.
To be blunt, yesterday was the anomaly. The daily average for Namgye Clinic is under five patients.
And thanks to Cho Hyang's salesmanship? Pretty much everyone who needed seeing got taken care of yesterday. Unless some lost martial artist crash-lands in Namgye Village, no one's showing up for morning clinic!
So, I focused on tending to my left arm that morning. What, out of the blue? Well, my left arm was full of holes.
Call it the aftereffect of practicing the Life-Pursuing Needle yesterday.
"Focus your intent on the needle tip and strike the acupoint. When true qi reaches the meridians, the qi channels will resonate, and the qi within the pulse will infuse the blood."
What does that even mean? In plain terms, when you pierce an acupoint with the Life-Pursuing Needle technique from the Yanluo Life-Seizing Art, the patient's inner power gets richly reflected in their blood.
Then you extract the blood, place it on a porcelain dish, and analyze it. Based on the sample's color, you can gauge the inner power's yin-yang balance, turbidity, depth, and so on.
Just as I'd suspected—a kind of blood test!
Normally, you'd get this info through pulse diagnosis, extending thin qi channels into the patient's body to probe the inner power's yin-yang balance, turbidity, and depth.
But that's invasive, so it's not preferred. That's why we use the Pulse-Probing Hand.
The Pulse-Probing Hand just feels the qi channels without penetrating, so it couldn't reveal detailed inner power info.
But now? Things are different! With the Life-Pursuing Needle, I can get those details through blood analysis.
Feels like I can finally breathe a little easier.
'The problem is...'
Just one thing. No reference ranges.
Did the author of the Yanluo Life-Seizing Art have zero drawing skills?
It just goes on and on verbally: if the sample's this color, it's this; that color, it's that.
Couldn't they have left even a simple sketch? How am I supposed to tell in real life just from words?
So I pored over the manual all night, checking for anything I'd missed. And to memorize normal findings, I practiced the Life-Pursuing Needle on my left arm nonstop.
No wonder my arm's a total mess. Anyone seeing it would think I'm a junkie.
"Let's see, Golden Injury Ointment here, wound salve..."
I applied meds to help my left arm heal. Truth be told, jabbing soft tissue—especially around blood vessels—with needles is seriously risky.
Could lead to cellulitis, or if you're unlucky, endocarditis. That's when heart valves get infected and melt away.
Luckily, a body trained in martial arts resists infection. Probably thanks to inner power? Hong Yak's body, trained in Yakwang Valley arts, won't go down from a mangled arm.
Oh yeah, the needles were an issue too. The ones at the clinic aren't for blood draws. That's why blood didn't come out easily even when I poked.
If I had proper blood draw needles, it'd be easier. But I'd need to sterilize them well.
After patching up my arm, I stepped outside and sat down.
This is Namgye Village, a remote backwater in Yunnan. So close to nature. Makes birdwatching a real treat.
Take that bird on the riverside hackberry tree. A red-billed blue magpie.
Honest name, honest looks. Not found back home, but common enough around here.
Over there in the bushes, a flock perched together—waxbills, sparrow-sized. Red bills, yellow collars. Tiny but colorful and cute.
And that one in the distance... ah, just a regular sparrow.
Anyway, Namgye Village is a paradise for wild migratory birds!
Close to the tropics? That's why we get flashy ones, plus mountain-dwellers from colder spots. Super diverse.
I think I read on a blog once: over 80% of China's birds live in Yunnan.
Brushed it off back then. Eighty percent? Sounds like BS. But seeing it now, it might be true.
Funny coincidence, too. I got into birdwatching during my public service duty as a doctor. Posting was so rural, nothing else to do.
And somehow, here I am now. In an even remoter spot than back then... but with way more birds to watch! Good or bad?
Anyway, I lounged around all day, sipping tea, watching birds. As dusk approached, I was thinking maybe I should've gone herb-picking with Cho Hyang.
"Doctor! Doctor!"
Suddenly, someone came running from afar, clutching their thigh.
Finally, some action?
I went out to help the patient in. They looked unsteady on their feet.
"Uncle Yang Su? What happened?"
Up close, it was Yang Su, the local woodcutter.
"Chopping wood in the mountains, ran into a wild boar...! Ugh!"
His pants were torn near the thigh, blood soaking through. Looked like a big wound.
Simple sutures I can handle. But if it's major... should I call orthopedics?
...Hi, this is orthopedics. Forgot I have to handle everything here.
"Come inside first, Uncle. Need to see the wound."
I helped him in and sat him on the bench.
"Can you pull up your pants? Nah, won't see it like that. Let's drop 'em on this side."
Checked the injury. Laceration on the upper right thigh, about a handspan long—roughly 12 cm.
Shallow depth. Good, didn't hit the fascia. Bleeding, but no arterial damage.
Okay. Manageable. But one thing bugged me.
"Wild boar, huh? Tusks did this?"
"Yeah. Burst from the brush, no time to dodge..."
"Wound's full of dirt. Did you roll on the way?"
"No. Met old man Ma on the way; he smeared it on. Said mud stops bleeding. Grateful..."
Uncle Yang Su's got a grudge coming from old man Ma. Tsk, prime tetanus setup.
Even in modern times, tetanus is no joke. Progresses to lockjaw and full-body rigidity. Don't see it often, though.
Vaccines are everywhere, and for dirty wounds, we give antitoxin and vaccine.
But if symptoms hit anyway? Congrats, you're the ICU idol! Med students, residents, even profs will know your name—"The one with tetanus!"
Anyway, in this beautiful medieval murim world?
Tetanus exists conceptually—usually described as "wind entering a wound.
The problem is, there's no real treatment. No vaccines, no antitoxin, and no ventilators. If you catch it, you're dead.
So immediate care's limited. Best you can do is wash the wound clean.
"Uncle Yang Su, no more dirt on wounds from now on."
"Huh? But it stops the bleeding?"
"Bleeding stops, but it festers. Gets worse, you're in real trouble. Better to press with clean cloth."
"My dad always did that..."
"Gonna drag your dad into this? His wounds never festered even once?"
"Hm... come to think, they did, and he died from it."
"..."
Anyway, I washed the thigh wound with boiled, cooled water.
All sorts in there: dirt, grass bits, clots... Tusks make ragged edges, huh?
Then wiped it again with baijiu.
"Ugh..."
Hurts like hell, but Uncle Yang Su bore it well. Are all woodcutters from this era just built different? Wait, he escaped a wild boar. How?
Disinfection's the best I can do. Time for sutures.
Modern sterile kits make it easy. Here...
Rummaged the cabinet for supplies. Needle, got it. No thread, though. Where's the sewing basket...
Boiled the needle and thread for sterilization. Embarrassing compared to sterile, but better than nothing.
Acupointed around the wound for local anesthesia, threaded the needle, first stitch in.
"Ugh...!"
"Anesthetized and still whining. Hang in there."
Suturing's not hard. Tools are the issue.
Suture needles are curved for wrist snaps.
This one? Straight as an arrow. Awkward angle.
And not suture thread, so it snags tissue every time.
"Eek...!"
Uncle grunting softly each time. Sorry. Maybe dodge the boar next time?
Still, finished somehow. Over ten stitches?
A bit bumpy, but blame the needle design. Completed in rough conditions—maybe I've got suturing talent.
Wiped the site with baijiu again, applied Golden Injury Ointment and salve, dressed with clean cloth.
First case of the day done.
"All set. No heavy lifting for a while."
"Thanks, Doctor! Won't fester, right?"
Good question. No guarantees.
Filthy wound, non-sterile thread. Infection risk? Real.
Salve's antibacterial effect is minimal. Cellulitis hits? No antibiotics—headache city.
Grow my own? Penicillin mold? Grind it up for antibacterial?
Nah.
Need to extract properly. Organic chem's beyond me; periodic table's fuzzy. No pharma talent here.
"Might fester. So daily checkups. I'll look when you change dressings."
"Every day?"
"Till stitches out, yes. And no dirt. Keep it clean."
Sent him off with nagging.
Still, a weight lingered. What if tetanus or cellulitis?
Thinking back, martial artists rarely get sick symptoms. Full inner power in meridians?
Reverse: infuse inner power into infected commoner's meridians. Ease symptoms?
'No right answer? Time to experiment.'
Everyone has meridians. Worth a shot.
Filed it away. Hope I never need it.
After that, Jeon Sam came for bandage change on his cirrhosis-ish liver. Dusk by then. Clinic closed!
Cleaning up, that needle caught my eye. So blunt-ended. No wonder it hurt despite anesthesia.
Need proper suture needles. Suture thread too, if possible.
And that's not all.
Thoracentesis tubes for draining pleural effusions without spilling everywhere like yesterday.
Blood draw needles for easier Life-Pursuing Needle.
Jotting my wishlist...
"I'm back!"
Cho Hyang returned, loaded up behind her. Back mountain herbs must be wiped out.
"No betel nuts, but got some brain pills!"
"Good work. Use as dewormer."
"How was today? Felt my absence, huh?"
Hm, flies buzzing, honestly? Not really.
But Cho Hyang's Namgye Clinic's star employee. Worked hard all day, so a little lip service.
"Died without you. Clinic ground to a halt."
"Right? Time to raise my pay!"
Straight to wage talks. Nice try. Change subject.
"Anyway, Cho Hyang, how long can you be away from clinic?"
"Huh? Barely any patients... Old doc took weeks off sometimes. Why?"
Showed her the paper. Namgye Clinic shortage list. Got long.
"Thin long tubes, thick short needles, curved-end needles, forceps... What's all this?"
"Supply list. What clinic needs."
"Blacksmiths won't touch this stuff..."
Figured. Not dissing smiths, but these are delicate.
Material matters. Iron rusts, hard to sterilize. No stainless steel here.
Silver'd be ideal. Natural antibacterial.
One place comes to mind.
"Silver Peak Manor lady said drop by Hakgyeong."
Silver Peak Manor. Hakgyeong's top silver workshop.
"Let's commission these from Silver Peak Manor."