By the morning of the first day of the new year, the streets were bustling. The long-unseen sun peeked through the misty clouds, and droplets of water clung to trees and walls. Even the faint sunlight felt warm, promising the thawing of snow and ice.
The alcohol and cold air made his cough worse. Taking a detour, he stopped at the city’s largest traditional Chinese medicine pharmacy to get some herbs.
Inside, only three female pharmacists were on duty. A middle-aged man was angrily berating them. “How could you lose the prescription? This is for treatment! Do you know what kind of trouble this will cause? Where’s your manager? I’m going to file a complaint!”
A young pharmacist stammered nervously, “I’m sorry! I’ll look for it again!”
Walking up to another pharmacist, He Su Ye calmly said, “Please prepare for me 10 grams each of ephedra, apricot kernel, purple aster, cynanchum root, and stemona root; 20 grams of tangerine peel and licorice root; and 10 grams of balloon flower. Three doses, for personal use.”
The middle-aged man stared at him curiously. He Su Ye simply smiled and said nothing. Finally, the man asked, “Young man, my father’s stomach problems have flared up. They sent me out on the first day of the new year to get medicine, but these people lost the prescription. Could you help me put together the right herbs?”
* * *
Coughing the entire way home, he bitterly reflected on the irony: Doctors get sick too. There’s no point pretending to be invincible in front of patients anymore. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been ill, but now he had been thoroughly defeated by a case of wind-cold attacking the lungs.
Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Shen Xi Fan.
“He Su Ye, did I drink myself to death last night? Did I ramble on about a bunch of nonsense? Please don’t take it to heart.”
He replied, “Not at all. When you’re drunk, you barely talk—you just hum.”
“Impossible! My mom said I held the phone and chattered endlessly last night. Where are you now?”
“On the bus. I’ve got a cough, so I’m heading home to take some medicine.”
* * *
As he reached the entrance to his neighborhood, he saw Shen Xi Fan shivering in the cold. Quickening his pace, he suppressed his cough. “What are you doing here, little girl?”
She looked up, her face red from the cold. “You said you were sick, so I came to check on you.”
For some reason, her gesture annoyed him. “Are you an idiot? It’s freezing out here, and with your weak constitution, standing outside like this will definitely make you sick. Don’t you know that hospitals are only running emergency services during the holidays? If you catch a cold and a fever during the New Year, you’ll regret it!”
Startled by his scolding, Shen Xi Fan felt deeply wronged. Weakly, she defended herself. “If I get sick, you can prescribe me some Chinese medicine. I’m not afraid of the bitterness—I’ll drink it in one gulp, like alcohol!”
Realizing he’d been too harsh, He Su Ye felt his heart skip a beat. Embarrassed, he looked away. “I’m sorry, little girl. I spoke too harshly. Come inside—it’s too cold out here.”
Once inside, he brewed a small amount of ephedra and licorice root in boiling water, poured it into a cup, and handed it to her. “Drink this quickly to ward off a cold.”
Taking the cup, Shen Xi Fan peeked into the plastic bag of herbs, curious. She fished out a bitter almond and asked, “Is this an almond, He Su Ye? Can I try it?” Before he could stop her, she popped it into her mouth.
Immediately, her face twisted in disgust. “Ugh! It’s so bitter! What is this horrible taste? You tricked me—this isn’t an almond!”
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