Chapter 33: You wouldn't happen to be from my hometown, would you?

"Young Master Wen, can that boiled silk really be used to save a life?"

Watching the servants set up a large pot outside, Duan Zhixuan looked at him in bewilderment.

"It is for sterilization. It's quite complicated; you wouldn't understand if I explained it." Wen He shook his head and waved to a servant standing not far away who appeared to be in charge.

The servant nodded, bowed, and hurried over to him. "This lowly one, A-Tu, greets the young master."

Excitement sparkled in his eyes, and he looked at Wen He with palpable enthusiasm. Seeing his reaction, Wen He realized he had chosen the wrong person; the man was well-dressed, but his status did not seem particularly high—otherwise, why would he be so thrilled just by being called over? However, he couldn't be bothered to dwell on that right now.

"Go tell them that all materials for bandaging wounds must be boiled for... er, half of half an hour."

"Er, wouldn't that just be two sticks of incense?" Duan Zhixuan asked, puzzled by the strange phrasing. Still, he quickly let it go. Young Master Wen didn't look very old; he surely didn't know the standard measurements yet.

Wen He, in truth, wasn't entirely sure either, but he knew one stick of incense was roughly fifteen minutes in his past life. A-Tu nodded earnestly and went off to relay the instructions, his back held remarkably straight.

"Sigh." Watching him walk away, Wen He sighed. Had he not revealed his identity to Li Shimin, his status would certainly be reversed if he encountered A-Tu on the street. A servant at a powerful minister’s residence was often treated with the respect due to a minor official, let alone a servant of the Prince of Qin’s mansion.

He turned back to find Duan Zhixuan staring at him expectantly.

"What is it?" Wen He asked.

"Is that all?" Duan Zhixuan was skeptical. Hadn't he mentioned something about stitches earlier?

"Sterilize the needles and thread first, then have someone sew the wounds shut. As for whether he can pull through, that rests with the will of Heaven. By the way, does the Prince of Qin’s mansion have liquor? Clear spirits would be best."

Wen He was thinking about producing alcohol; distillation wasn't difficult, just time-consuming. Jing Junhong certainly couldn't wait, but sterilization would be necessary in the future. Alcohol would be safer than high-temperature sterilization.

"Ah?" Duan Zhixuan was stunned. Does saving a life require drinking? "We should have clear spirits, but wouldn't yellow wine be better? His Highness even has wine from the Western Regions in his cellar—the taste is exquisite." He smacked his lips, salivating at the thought.

"I am saving a life, not drinking it. Yellow wine will do, or whatever you have—just bring it here."

The alcohol content of the wine in this era was not high. To extract a small bottle of alcohol, he would need a large quantity of it. Hearing this, Duan Zhixuan offered a sheepish smile, bowed to Wen He, and immediately went to find someone to bring the wine.

"Wait, there's no rush..." Wen He wanted to stop him, but the man had vanished in the blink of an eye. He chuckled helplessly. Even if they brought the wine now, he couldn't distill the alcohol in such a short time.

"Who is that fellow? He acts like a hothead."

Seeing him with Cheng Zhijie earlier, he assumed the man's status wasn't low, but he looked young, and he didn't know who he was.

"That is the Right Second Guard Commander of the Prince's Mansion, Duan Zhixuan," a Black Armor Guard nearby informed him.

Wen He froze. This was the man Li Shimin would later compare to Zhou Yafu—Duan Xiong, Duan Zhixuan? He had joined the army at fourteen, campaigned against Goguryeo with Emperor Yang of Sui, and later followed Li Yuan, capturing Qu Tutong at Tong Pass. No wonder he dared to block Cheng Zhijie earlier.

"Now that he's gone, who is in charge here?" Wen He looked at the group of Black Armor Guards. They stared back at him and shook their heads in unison.

"Someone go to the front courtyard and fetch a coroner."

"Ah? Why would you need a coroner, sir? They only examine corpses." The look the guards gave him changed. Did he think General Jing was beyond saving and that a coroner was needed to prepare the body?

"If I don't get a coroner, will you be the ones to sew the wounds?" Wen He raised an eyebrow at them. The guards quickly shook their heads and backed away. They weren't afraid of fighting on the battlefield—they wouldn't blink at lopping off an enemy's head—but the thought of stitching up a living person's flesh made their scalps tingle.

"Then what are you waiting for? Go!"

"Yes, yes! We are going!" One of them scurried off toward the front courtyard.

"Young master, may we have a word?" The two medical officials approached.

Wen He blinked, thinking to himself, "Is this the part where I get to slap them in the face?" He imagined the scene: these two old military doctors scolding him for risking a life and meddling in medicine, only for him to refute them, save Jing Junhong, and leave them weeping in shame. That was how most novels from his time went. He rubbed his hands together, preparing for battle.

"Such medical skill, young master—where did you learn it? We have heard of this 'stitching' method before. If this old man is not mistaken, your instruction to boil the materials is to guard against 'tiny insects,' correct?"

Seeing the man stroking his beard as he spoke, Wen He’s eyes widened. This old man was no ordinary person.

"Palace Jade Liquor?" Wen He blinked rapidly.

The two officials looked at each other, confused. "What liquor?"

"Fine, my mistake... Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron!"

"What?"

"Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon! You really don't know?"

The two officials looked at him with strange expressions, as if observing someone suffering from a fever dream. Wen He sighed; it seemed he had been overthinking. There were no other transmigrators here, and certainly none as miserable as he was.

He gave a sheepish smile and bowed to them. "May I ask how you know of the theory of bacteria... or 'tiny insects'?"

"It is mentioned in the *Treatise on the Causes and Symptoms of Diseases*, written by the former Sui Imperial Physicians, Master Chao and Master Wu. As for the method of stitching, it has been attempted by others before, but it was reviled by Tao Hongjing, making the world fear it. We dared not use it." The old man spoke with a sense of helplessness. They had considered this method earlier, but if word got out, they would be disgraced by their peers.

"Masters Chao and Wu—do you mean Chao Yuanfang and Wu Jingxian?"

"Exactly."

"So it was them." Wen He was no longer surprised. Both were extraordinary figures, and their *Treatise on the Causes and Symptoms of Diseases* was considered a legendary book in later history. It systematically categorized the causes and symptoms of internal, external, gynecological, pediatric, and other diseases, including diagnosis, prognosis, and prevention. It was the first systematic work on pathology in history.

Sadly, much of it had been destroyed later on. Specifically, the content written by Wu Jingxian was lost during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, and by the Song Dynasty, only Chao Yuanfang’s work remained. By the time of the Qing Dynasty, there were even rumors that the compilers of the *Siku Quanshu* had tampered with and deleted parts of it. It was said that only the complete Tang dynasty version existed in that island nation. Those envoys to the Tang had stolen quite a few treasures!

"May I ask where Masters Chao and Wu are now?" If possible, Wen He wanted to see the original version of the *Treatise* with his own eyes.

"Master Wu passed away years ago, and Master Chao has retired from the world. However, the Taichang Temple holds a primary copy of the *Treatise*, but our status is too low to ever see it." Both men smiled bitterly.

Wen He stroked his chin, lost in thought. It would be a tragedy if such a work were lost again. Books like these should be in the hands of every medical official. He remembered Zhangsun Wuji asking him about papermaking; Li Er would surely bring it up after he finished his current business. He would take that opportunity to suggest movable type printing as well.

Just as he was thinking this, a flurry of footsteps approached.

"The wine is here! Where is Young Master Wen? How much do you need? I have brought all the wine from the Prince of Qin’s mansion today! Just save General Jing!"

The roar was like a lion's, making Wen He’s eardrums tremble.