"Hey, do you think we can really pull through this?"
Song Qingchao grunted, her nose emitting a muffled sound.
Bai Youan's gaze softened as it fell upon her face. "We can, trust me."
Song Qingchao let out a dismissive "Tch," then turned her body. "You always tell me to trust you..."
Her voice trailed off, and her breathing gradually became steady.
Bai Youan watched her, a gentle expression blooming on his face.
He lightly traced the scabbed wound on Song Qingchao's left cheek with the back of his finger.
This young girl still refused to use his medicine.
Such a beautiful face, ruined like this, and she wasn't even worried.
It was the first time he'd seen someone like that.
Bai Youan lowered his head slightly, seeing that Song Qingchao had truly fallen asleep. He didn't mind her.
He propped himself up, gently supporting Song Qingchao's head and moving her onto the bed. He then carefully tucked the blanket around her.
Before leaving, he lit a calming incense in the nearby censer.
He had been busy in the pharmacy all day, yet he knew this young girl had certainly not been idle.
Bai Youan stepped outside and gently closed the door.
He walked towards the window and gazed from afar at the sleeping woman on the bed, who was rolling over and had pushed the blanket away, her small feet dangling off the edge of the bed.
The smile on his lips couldn't be contained.
This young girl, so exhausted, still couldn't sleep peacefully.
He shook his stiff neck, his bones making a "kaka" sound.
He too had not slept all night.
He walked back into the pharmacy, where the lights were still on.
Xiang Duoruo was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his head resting against the medicine cabinet, drowsy.
Xiang Yunling, however, was diligently writing on top of the medicine cabinet, occasionally picking up herbs to smell them.
Bai Youan didn't enter. He leaned against the doorframe, sliding down like Song Qingchao.
Xiang Yunling looked up when he heard the sound, then spoke unhurriedly, "If you're tired, go back and rest. You don't need to worry about me here."
Bai Youan closed his eyes and smiled. "I'm certainly not worried, but if your frail body continues like this, you'll collapse sooner or later. Then I'll have a whole group of you to take care of, and I won't be able to manage."
After speaking, he gripped the doorframe and swayed as he stood up. He walked in with short, unsteady steps, grabbed the sleeping Xiang Duoruo from the floor, and said, "Go back to your room and sleep."
Xiang Duoruo rubbed his eyes, still a bit groggy, and looked hazily at Xiang Yunling. "Master?"
He yawned more than anyone else, his mind no longer clear.
Xiang Yunling didn't look up. "You should go to sleep quickly. Come back tomorrow. You absolutely cannot exhaust yourself first."
"Then you should rest early too, Master." Xiang Duoruo nodded and walked out with a wavering gait.
Bai Youan ignored him, moving around to the back of the medicine cabinet. He placed his hands on Xiang Yunling's wheelchair and said, "And you talk about Duoruo?"
With a slight push, he pulled Xiang Yunling out from behind the cabinet.
Xiang Yunling still held his brush. His movement caused a large ink blot to drip onto his clothes.
He helplessly put down his brush and sighed, "I'm not tired."
Bai Youan paid him no mind. "I know, but you'd better conserve your energy now. We're in a war of attrition; just pushing ourselves like this isn't a solution."
He didn't push Xiang Yunling back to his room. Instead, he took him to a small bed behind the pharmacy that had been prepared for patients.
"Sleep here for a while. Neither of us can leave this place, and you don't need to worry about anything outside. I've made all the arrangements."
After tidying the bed, Bai Youan intended to help Xiang Yunling onto it, but Xiang Yunling refused. "I can do it myself."
Bai Youan nodded.
He had no reason to interfere with others.
"Including Chaoxian, there are eight people. Four are staying at the outpost. I plan to have one person in charge of two rooms starting tomorrow, and the rest will go to sleep. If we continue like this, we'll be the ones to collapse."
Xiang Yunling also agreed. "I can ask a few of the young temple acolytes to help. That will lighten the load."
Bai Youan disagreed and shook his head. "There are thousands of people in the temple; they can't spare anyone. It's better not to involve them. We can manage ourselves."
He handed Xiang Yunling a small bag of Suanzaoren and then pulled the curtain closed. "Sleep. You can take over for me during the day."
The night was very quiet,
so quiet that Bai Youan could only hear his own footsteps.
He walked to the spot where Xiang Yunling had been sitting, picked up the unfinished paper, and then returned to his own seat.
He stretched his back and then began to diligently study Xiang Yunling's prescriptions and the medical texts Song Qingchao had given him.
Time passed quickly, and soon the sky turned a fish-belly white.
Sunlight began to stream in through the gaps in the door.
The night had passed relatively peacefully. The critically ill patients in his pharmacy slept soundly, with only one or two experiencing spasms that he managed to revive.
During that time, he had visited the ward for Class A twice, and Class B and Class C once each.
As the sky gradually brightened, he didn't feel the slightest bit of fatigue.
He was accustomed to nights like these.
He was always a light sleeper, needing calming incense and Suanzaoren to fall asleep.
He would wake after only two hours of sleep.
He was a doctor, yet he couldn't cure his own heart's ailment.
Bai Youan lowered his head and rubbed his sore eyes, pressing his thumbs against his temples.
What troubled him wasn't the lack of sleep, but rather that he had no inspiration for the prescriptions.
Although Artemisia annua had an effect, they hadn't been able to maximize its efficacy. How to combine it for the best results had completely stumped both him and Xiang Yunling.
With thousands of herbs, they couldn't experiment with each one individually.
They could only rely on past prescriptions and experience to concoct them.
However, the supply of Artemisia annua was limited, and they didn't have enough herbs for continuous trials.
The sun gradually rose.
The patients in the ward began to cry out in pain with groans and moans.
Bai Youan put down the prescription and then placed the results of his night's work on Xiang Yunling's desk.
His division of labor with Xiang Yunling was simple:
He himself was responsible for stabilizing the current situation, doing his utmost to keep the patients alive, alive to see the day the antidote was found.
And Xiang Yunling, due to his leg impairment, was primarily responsible for researching the antidote, cooperating with Bai Youan's diagnoses and dispensing of medicine.
The young acolyte, Xiang Duoruo, was responsible for decocting and administering the medicine, taking pulses every two hours, and notifying Bai Youan of any unexpected situations.
After comforting a few patients, Xiang Duoruo entered, rubbing his eyes and yawning, "Good morning, Mr. Bai."
Upon seeing the situation, he immediately pinched his thigh, wincing in pain and sucking in a sharp breath. Then he, too, got busy.
He hoped, after all, that this accursed illness would pass.
Only then could he return to his days of dozing in the pharmacy.
Not long after, Xiang Yunling also emerged from the back.
He lifted the curtain, glanced at Bai Youan, and asked, "Do you want to go rest as well?"