In this era, talent was a rare resource. The messenger sent to deliver the news had once attended school, but when reporting before the throne, he could only provide a rough account of the local situation. Wen Yanran was unable to obtain more effective information from him.
Fortunately, before Wen Xun dispatched someone, she had instructed a physician from the southern region to document the condition of the soldiers in the camp. Wen Yanran directly handed the medical records to the Chief Imperial Physician and asked him to interpret them carefully.
The Chief Imperial Physician bowed as he received the documents and said, “With the blessing of Your Majesty’s divine spirit, General Wen will surely overcome this crisis and recover.”
Wen Yanran rested her chin on her hand, watching the Chief Imperial Physician, and gave a faint smile.
Judging from his court presentation, the other party’s experience in court affairs was evidently still insufficient. If Wen Xun were to meet with misfortune in the end, then according to his logic, would it imply that her divine protection had been inadequate?
However, this matter could also be interpreted in another way – that the fates of Wen Xun and the others were simply predetermined.
This was a backward era without antibiotics, where even a common cold could prove fatal. Such circumstances had fostered a bold and unyielding temperament among the people, who held life and death lightly and were always ready to fight rather than submit.
Wen Yanran asked, “Inquire with the messenger – apart from General Wen, how are the others in the rear camp faring?”
The eunuch received the order and left, soon returning with an answer. According to the messenger, although the illness had not spread further, those already afflicted had shown no signs of improvement.
The eunuch then heard the Sovereign murmuring to herself within the hall.
“General Xiao has long since returned to Chongchang Border Camp, while General Wen remains in the front camp.”
Though both were said to be commanding troops in the southern region, they were in fact stationed in different provinces altogether. Yet they had fallen ill at the same time. Moreover, both were military officers, their physical constitution far superior to that of civil officials like herself.
Wen Yanran didn’t have much faith in this era’s disease prevention measures. As this thought crossed her mind, she suddenly felt a stir – if the illness hadn’t spread in either location, then perhaps it wasn’t a seasonal epidemic?
Recently, many in the capital had taken to their beds due to wind-heat or wind-cold ailments. Influenced by this, Wen Yanran had initially attributed the symptoms of Wen Xun and Xiao Xichi to the common cold.
No wonder the system, when dropping hints, had insisted on sending notifications in two separate lines. Guide to Becoming a Tyrant was trying to hint her that the two were not in the same area – the player needed to broaden their perspective to encompass the entire southern region.
Moreover, considering that both were in military camps, and that it was now early spring…
The eunuch, seeing the Sovereign rise and drape a robe over his shoulders, advised, “Your Majesty, please ease your mind. The two generals are blessed by heaven and will surely emerge unscathed.”
Wen Yanran summoned the Chief Imperial Physician and inquired, “In your expert opinion, is it possible that the two generals were not afflicted by some pathogenic influence? Could the illness they suffer from not be transmitted through respiration?”
The Chief Imperial Physician, having no understanding of microorganisms, pondered deeply but ultimately could not reach a conclusion. “I have not witnessed their condition personally; it is truly difficult to make a definitive judgment.”
Wen Yanran was silent for a moment, then said, “Then, first provide me with a detailed explanation of the medical records.”
In the early days of traditional medicine, physicians and shamans often overlapped; in many cases, they were even one and the same. When Xuanyangzi was swindling his way around, he had practiced as a shaman-physician, and advising patients or their families to perform rituals and prayers was a common treatment method. Although some aristocratic families possessed medical knowledge, the low social status of physicians meant that even if members of these families mastered the art, they would not actually practice as doctors.
It was said that in Jianzhou, there was the He clan, renowned for their skill in pulse-taking. However, this family were local magnates who made their living from their estates; learning to read pulses was merely a personal hobby.
The Chief Imperial Physician reported, “Based on the descriptions in the medical records, both generals are certainly suffering from heat syndrome.”
Wen Yanran nodded, mentally translating the term as “inflammation within the body.”
“Moreover, with high fever unrelieved, chills, and profuse sweating, it could be typhoid fever. If accompanied by abdominal pain and diarrhea, it might also be dysentery,” the Chief Imperial Physician mused. “General Wen’s pulse has a taut quality, suggesting the affliction may lie in the liver.”
Wen Yanran remained silent, deep in thought.
Her medical knowledge was rather limited; she roughly understood that both typhoid and dysentery were diseases transmitted through the digestive tract. As for treatment methods, she had some recollection – cephalosporins could be administered to the patient.
…Which raised the question: where in the Great Zhou dynasty could one find cephalosporins? Weren’t they a type of compound medication?
Wen Yanran pondered carefully. Both Xiao Xichi and Wen Xun were high-ranking generals; she believed they shared hardships with their subordinates, but as the commanding officers of their respective regions, their personal living quarters should surely have been more hygienic.
If typhoid or dysentery had afflicted even them, then these illnesses should have already begun spreading widely throughout the surrounding counties and commanderies. Yet the central government had received no such reports.
At this thought, Wen Yanran breathed a slight sigh of relief, mentally downgrading the likelihood of typhoid and dysentery.
The eunuchs in the hall, observing the Sovereign with eyes closed in deep contemplation, remained silently attentive, none daring to make a sound and disturb her.
After a moment, Chi Yi noticed the Sovereign open her eyes and speak deliberately, word by word. “The southern region has many paddy fields.”
To ensure the supply of provisions, all military camps in the Great Zhou had farmland attached to them. In peacetime, the troops engaged in farming; in wartime, they took up their blades to fight. Now, it was the season for spring plowing, so the soldiers would naturally be working the land. Given the characters of Xiao Xichi and Wen Xun, they would most likely lead by example.
Furthermore, the two shared another common trait: both had resided in Jianping for an extended period and were no longer fully acclimated to the climate and environment of the south.
Moreover, after Wen Xun discovered that someone in the camp had fallen ill, she halted all activities. With others unable to come into contact with the source of infection, they naturally did not contract the illness!
Wen Yanran looked at the Chief Imperial Physician and said, “I have heard that there are many small worms in the waters of the south that can cause illness in people, with symptoms similar to those described in the medical records.”
The Chief Imperial Physician suddenly understood. “Is Your Majesty referring to the affliction of Gu?”
“Gu” was an ancient term for schistosomiasis.
The Chief Imperial Physician’s expression grew worried. Even if it wasn’t typhoid or dysentery but rather the affliction of Gu, it was still not good news for Xiao and Wen. In this era, schistosomiasis, like the former two, was an incurable disease beyond the reach of medical treatment.
Wen Yanran’s gaze turned solemn. As someone from the south, she had a fair understanding of schistosomiasis. She knew it was transmitted through Oncomelania snails and could be treated with antimony preparations.
…Now the second question arose: where in the world was she supposed to find antimony at this moment?
“Summon the Director of the Imperial Household.”
Hou Suo, having sensed that something was afoot, had long been waiting outside. The moment he heard the Emperor’s summons, he hurried over, prepared to ease the sovereign’s worries.
…However, all his confidence crumbled in the face of the Emperor’s detailed description of antimony ore.
Antimony ore had a metallic luster on its surface, was mostly tin-white in color, and formed hexagonal prismatic crystals. In the Great Zhou, where precious metals like gold, silver, and copper dominated, it had no presence whatsoever.
Wen Yanran nodded, not overly disappointed, and proceeded to sketch a rough picture of a pumpkin on the paper.
She vaguely recalled that pumpkin seeds also had the ability to treat schistosomiasis.
Her painting skills were, in truth, below those of ordinary scholars. Fortunately, pumpkins had a distinctive shape, and outlining their form didn’t require much technical proficiency.
After clearly seeing what the fruit on the paper looked like, Hou Suo once again lowered his head and prostrated himself, begging the Sovereign’s forgiveness.
Wen Yanran folded the drawing and fell silent.
Hou Suo ventured cautiously, “Since it concerns flora, would Your Majesty consider summoning the horticulturists from the Gui Palace to make inquiries?”
The late emperor had also delighted in collecting exotic flowers and plants, as well as various gold, silver, and precious jades. The flowers and plants were mostly kept in the Gui Palace, while stones and metals were housed in the Yao Palace.
Wen Yanran gave a slight shake of her head. “Not necessary for now.” Before Hou Suo could continue his persuasion, she instructed the attendants nearby, “Help me change my robes. I will now personally go to the Gui Palace.”
Summoning the craftsmen from the Gui Palace might not guarantee a clear explanation; it would be better for her to go and see for herself.
Hou Suo was greatly alarmed and hastily attempted to dissuade her. “Your Majesty, please reconsider. The Gui Palace has been left unused for a long time, and now it is already getting dark…”
Wen Yanran paused, looked down at him, and cast a stern glance. “What of it being left unused for a long time? Just because I have not been there for a while, does that mean it has become unfit for use?”
The Emperor’s gaze immediately made Hou Suo realize one thing: the person before him was the sovereign of the Great Zhou, around whom the entire central government must revolve. No rules or rites in this world could become obstacles to her actions.
“…This humble official obeys.”
Since Zhong Zhiwei had not yet returned, the imperial guard was temporarily under the command of Chi Yi and Zhang Luo. Both were highly decisive individuals. Understanding that the Emperor’s will was irrevocable, they swiftly deployed personnel to escort the Emperor to the Gui Palace.
Both the Northern Park and the Gui Palace were located outside the city. As they were within the capital’s immediate vicinity, the roads were smooth and flat, allowing carriages to travel at night. The imperial guards on either side held torches aloft, illuminating the entire official road as brightly as if it were daytime.
The carriage rumbled along outside, while Wen Yanran sat inside with his eyes closed, resting his mind.
She had never truly focused on solving the medical problem, concerned that he might inadvertently cause unpredictable changes in the Great Zhou’s technological advancement. But now that the system had specifically triggered the side quest ” [The Never-Ending Years of the Protagonist],” it was clearly hoping the player would press forward in one go and completely resolve the issue of miasmatic afflictions in the region.
Although he didn’t always follow the strategy guide strictly, this time Wen Yanran could understand the system’s logic.
The southern region was currently in a semi-developed state. If Xiao Xichi intended to hold and defend it, he would inevitably face a shortage of manpower during its management. To increase the population, the risks of residing in the south would need to be reduced.
Thus, despite her lingering hesitation, Wen Yanran had no choice but to push the boundaries of the Great Zhou’s medical progress.
The next morning at dawn, the imperial carriage finally arrived at the Gui Palace – before departing, Wen Yanran had not forgotten to leave a message at the Northern Park, informing the other ministers there that they could hunt at their leisure and need not feel constrained by her absence.
Objectively speaking, the emperor’s sudden departure did not significantly affect the subsequent arrangements for the spring hunt. After all, the current Sovereign, unlike several of his predecessors, did not typically hunt alongside the ministers. Her main role was concentrated in delivering an encouraging opening address and a summarizing conclusion.
Gentle morning sunlight draped over the palace buildings. The long-quiet palace finally welcomed its current master. The central gate swung open with a rumble, and agile imperial guardsmen charged in on horseback, followed by the ceremonial procession belonging to the Sovereign of the Great Zhou.
After alighting from the carriage, the Emperor did not enter the main hall but instead led her entourage directly into the gardens. It was now springtime; brightly colored birds chirped excitedly, and a hundred flowers vied for beauty. The Gui Palace was particularly lush with foliage, its wooded groves casting dappled shadows. Rare and famous flowers, valued at a fortune and seldom seen elsewhere, carpeted the ground everywhere, greatly increasing the difficulty for the Great Zhou’s emperor to locate her target medicinal herb.
Wen Yanran fully mobilized her memories and searched diligently, also summoning the palace gardeners for assistance. In the end, she managed to find two plants that might be useful.
One was called betel nut, and the other was known as astragalus.
In the Great Zhou, astragalus was more commonly referred to as “membranous milk vetch.” The appearance of this herb brought Wen Yanran some pleasant surprise. Astragalus originally grew on the northern grasslands. Because of its function in replenishing qi and strengthening the body, it was initially presented as tribute to the capital by borderland tribes. Gradually, it also came to be cultivated in the Central Plains. Now, besides the batch used for ornamentation in the Gui Palace, the Imperial Household Department also stored a large quantity of dried membranous milk vetch roots. Among them, the finest batch came from a tribute previously offered by Wen Hong, the Governor of Wuzheng.
Even though the comment section had repeatedly mentioned that Wen Hong would later choose to secede and establish his own rule, Wen Yanran couldn’t help but begin to suspect that this person might, in fact, be a greatly loyal minister…
As for betel nut, its appearance surprised Wen Yanran even more than that of astragalus. She had never been to the Gui Palace before, so it was only today that she first learned this southern crop had long been discovered – it was simply still uncommon in the Central Plains region.
Hou Suo and the other attendants, though equally deprived of sleep all night, observed the Emperor’s diligent efforts and felt it inappropriate to retire for rest themselves. They continued to wait upon the Sovereign, and now, emboldened, one of them proposed: “The Gui Palace has attendant responsible for tending the southern flora. Would Your Majesty consider summoning them?”
Wen Yanran gave a slight nod.
Hou Suo bowed and withdrew, personally going to fetch them. During the reign of Emperor Li, the court had specially selected many native southerners to come to the Gui Palace to tend the plants. Most of them were no longer there now; the only one remaining was an elderly woman over sixty years of age, surnamed Shuo. She did not speak the Central Plains official language and, being advanced in years, understood nothing beyond her daily task of caring for the plants.
The eunuchs at the Gui Palace dared not present the aged Shuo woman before the Sovereign, for fear her speech and manners might offend Her Majesty. It was only after Chi Yi made the decision that they cautiously led her there.
The Great Zhou governed through loyalty and filial piety, naturally holding the elderly in high esteem. The Sovereign excused the elderly woman from performing the ceremonial bow, granted her a seat, and then gently began to question her about matters concerning the southern region.
Wen Yanran smiled and said, “Take your time. There is no need to rush.”
Elder Shuo sat timidly, her speech mumbled and indistinct. Her accent was utterly different from that of the Central Plains. Hou Suo, though knowledgeable in various regional dialects, could not understand a single word she said. At this moment, he couldn’t help but gaze with awe at the composed Sovereign.
Even Hou Suo did not know, and as a transmigrator, Wen Yanran understood even less of what the woman was saying. However, this did not prevent him from occasionally nodding slightly, pretending to have gleaned something. When the woman finished speaking, she rose, bowed courteously to the elderly woman before her, and then addressed her attendants:
“The elder just informed me that the reason Central Plains people fall ill after going south is because the southern region is abundant in water, and in this water there are snails, shaped like needles, containing many worms within them. If inhabitants inadvertently come into contact with water containing these snails, they will consequently become sick.”
Upon hearing this, Hou Suo forced himself to remain composed, barely managing to conceal his astonishment in the Emperor’s presence.
No one had anticipated that Her Majesty actually understood the language of the southern natives!
Even Chi Yi and Zhang Luo couldn’t help but exchange glances. Both were astute and quick-witted individuals, and at this moment, the same thought occurred to them – before ascending the throne, the current Sovereign had long resided in the Tongtai. In her childhood, she had been utterly inconspicuous among the imperial princes and princesses. Those who attended him were also elderly palace servants, over forty years old and not particularly nimble. Given that the average life expectancy in this era was just over thirty, by the time Wen Yanran ascended the throne at thirteen, most of the palace servants who had once attended her had already passed away, and those still living had returned home to convalesce. Exactly who had been by the Emperor’s side in those early years was now impossible to verify. But recalling that during the late Emperor’s reign, the court had selected and brought southerners to the capital, it was not impossible that someone versed in the local language had once served the Sovereign, leading to the Emperor’s understanding of the southern customs and conditions.
Their speculation was well-founded and widely accepted by their contemporaries, to the extent that it eventually found its way into Wen Yanran’s imperial biography with the line. “The Emperor, in her youth residing at the Tongtai, was attended mostly by southerners as servants, and thus understood their language.”
Considering that no one could expose her, and that even if they did, there would be no consequences, Wen Yanran continued to fabricate with a straight face, “I was somewhat hesitant, but fortunately, the elderly also confirmed that these two medicinal herbs can cure the affliction of Gu.” Casually tossing the betel nut in her hand to Hou Suo, she ordered, “Dispatch medical officers to take these south. Publicly recruit local talents and capable individuals, regardless of whether they are from the Central Plains or the southern tribes – only look for those who understand how to use these remedies. Also, send a letter to Commandery Administrator Wen, requesting him to continue sending more membranous milk vetch roots.”
The eunuchs diligently recorded the Sovereign’s words. Among those also summoned to the Gui Palace at this time were court officials like Wang Youyin. She promptly fulfilled her duties as a secretary, drafting the imperial edict on the spot, then sending it by swift horse to the Central Secretariat for the application of the seal. As for the constant attendants like Chi Yi, they too, following the Emperor’s instructions, urgently dispatched personnel to the southern region.
Wen Yanran’s tone softened. “You have all traveled through the night. Go and rest for a while; do not overexert yourselves.”
Hou Suo replied respectfully, “I am not tired.”
Wen Yanran glanced at him and smiled, “I am tired.”
Hou Suo’s pupils contracted sharply as he understood the sovereign’s meaning: “…” As an attendant, he had failed to seize the opportunity to urge the Emperor to rest, only realizing it after the Sovereign herself spoke – it was simply unbelievable.
Wen Yanran had never been to the Gui Palace before, but in order to maintain a channel for expenditure, she had never ceased funding its upkeep. This palace, truly a residence meticulously crafted by the late emperor, could be considered luxurious by the standards of the current era, and in terms of comfort, it was actually on par with the Taiqi Palace.
The entourage had arrived in haste, leaving no time to prepare the main hall of the Gui Palace. Wen Yanran temporarily rested on a hastily arranged bed in a side hall. Having missed her usual time for sleep and feeling mentally agitated, she found it somewhat difficult to fall asleep.
This side quest had served as a wake-up call for her.
Although the illnesses afflicting Xiao and Wen were critical, fortunately, they were not immediately fatal. Had it been some other ailment, the patients might have succumbed within three to five days.
To reduce the attrition rate among the talents suited for turbulent times that she had her eye on, Wen Yanran felt she must begin preparing some effective preventive measures.
