Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Hua Tuo quickly picked up a pen, wrote down the prescription, handed it to Zhen Mi, and instructed solemnly: "Miss, this medicine must be decocted on time and fed to him while it is hot. There can be no delay." Zhen Mi took the prescription, nodded slightly, her hair swaying gently with the movement, her eyes full of determination and worry.

After the medicine was boiled, the room was filled with a bitter aroma. Zhen Mi, carrying the medicine bowl, walked to the bedside and sat on the edge. The general's face was as pale as paper, his bloodless lips trembling slightly. Each breath was weak and heavy, his teeth clenched, making it impossible to feed him the medicine properly. Zhen Mi was anxious and hesitated for a long time. She bit her lower lip with her pearly teeth, and a blush came to her face. She took a deep breath, suppressed her shyness, and leaned over to the general.

She gently supported the back of the general's head with one hand, lifting it slightly. Then, she gently opened her red lips, took a sip of the medicine, and slowly placed her lips close to the general's, pouring the medicine into his mouth bit by bit. The medicine spilled a little from the corner of his mouth, and Zhen Mi hurriedly wiped it with a handkerchief. Her eyes remained fixed on the general's face, full of concern and expectation, and she prayed silently in her heart: "You must get better, you must live."

The night was deep, and all was silent except for the occasional whistling of the wind outside the window. Hua Tuo, concerned about his general's condition, remained by his side, never closing his eyes. The dim candlelight flickered in the breeze, elongating their figures and casting shadows on the mottled wall.

Suddenly, the general, still unconscious, murmured in agony, his voice faint but heart-wrenching: "Master... Lord Dong..." Zhen Mi and Hua Tuo quickly approached, their eyes meeting with confusion and concern. Zhen Mi gently grasped the general's hand, attempting to comfort him, whispering, "Wake up! Don't be afraid. We're all here." However, the general remained lost in his tormented dream, his brow furrowed, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. He showed no response to Zhen Mi's calls.

Hua Tuo touched the man's forehead, and the burning sensation nearly made him withdraw his hand. The temperature was terrifyingly high, as if it were burning with fire. His expression suddenly changed, and without saying anything more, he quickly turned and rummaged through the medicine box to find a few herbs. With swift movements, he crushed and blended them, making a decoction. He handed it to Zhen Mi and said hurriedly, "Miss, hurry, feed him!" Zhen Mi did not dare to delay. She picked up the medicine bowl and, using the same method, painstakingly fed the medicine into the general's mouth.

After feeding him the medicine, Hua Tuo instructed again: "Use warm water to wipe his forehead and whole body continuously, and make sure to lower his body temperature!" Zhen Mi hurriedly did so. She fetched a basin of warm water, picked up a cloth, wrung it out gently, and carefully wiped the general's forehead, neck, and arms with gentle and urgent movements.

All night long, the two men were busy. As the candles burned out, new ones were added. Outside the window, the night gradually faded, and the sky began to turn pale. After an unknown amount of time, the general's temperature finally dropped slightly, and his breathing became more stable. Hua Tuo and Zhen Mi finally paused, looked at each other, and breathed a sigh of relief, their tense nerves finally relaxing.

Zhen Mi looked at Hua Tuo and saw that he had never seen through her identity. Her beloved was now out of danger and receiving treatment. Thinking it was better to avoid further trouble, she didn't explain her origins. She silently stayed by the general's bedside, holding his hand, her eyes filled with relief and tenderness at having survived a disaster, hoping only that he would recover soon.

Hua Tuo looked at the young man lying in bed. His face, scrubbed clean, was pale and bony from the pain of illness, yet his inherent handsomeness remained undisguised. His every move radiated a sense of extraordinary power, clearly no mere peasant. The three fatal arrow wounds on his body were a striking sight, and the calluses on his palms bore the marks of time and wear. The painful whispers he muttered in his sleep hinted at a remarkable past.

But Hua Tuo, a doctor for many years, had always upheld the purest purpose of healing and saving lives, showing no interest in the intrigues and speculation surrounding a patient's identity. In his eyes, regardless of their status, they were all lives in desperate need of treatment. Now that his condition had stabilized, he was exhausted and thought nothing of it. He simply wanted to take a quick rest. After all, other patients would soon be waiting for his care, and as a doctor, he shouldered the responsibility and could not relax even for a moment.

Considering that the patient's injuries were extremely serious, any movement might threaten his life. There happened to be a vacant room around the residence, so Hua Tuo let Zhen Mi live there so that he could take care of him at all times.

For Zhen Mi, the long, agonizing days that followed felt like years. The patient remained unconscious, his fever recurring for days. The burning sensation on his forehead felt like a lingering fire, searing Zhen Mi's heart. Hua Tuo visited her daily, his brow furrowed, his expression growing more serious. His pulse, ever-changing, grew weaker, like a candle in a gale, ready to go out at any moment.

To stabilize the patient's condition, Hua Tuo locked himself in the pharmacy all day, racking his brains. Sometimes he would frown, gazing at the medical book in his hands, and sometimes he would pace back and forth in the room, lost in thought for a long time. He repeatedly considered each herb, pondering their medicinal properties and how they would work together.

When Hua Tuo first revised the prescription, he slightly adjusted the dosage of several herbs originally intended to clear heat and detoxify, and added a rare herb that could strengthen the body's vitality, hoping to clear heat and toxins while also strengthening the patient's vitality. However, after several doses, the patient's condition did not improve significantly.

Hua Tuo then embarked on a second attempt. He stayed up all night, rereading ancient texts and meticulously studying medical records of similar cases. At dawn, a new idea struck him. This time, he boldly replaced several key herbs, opting for milder but longer-lasting herbs. He also carefully combined several spleen-tonifying and stomach-tonifying herbs, hoping to first revitalize the patient's weakened spleen and stomach, thereby enhancing their absorption. However, the results were still unsatisfactory.

Hua Tuo remained undaunted. Drawing on his years of medical experience and his deep respect for life, he once again devoted himself to revising the prescription. After careful consideration, he decided to consider the patient's constitution and subtle changes in their condition. He incorporated several rarely used herbs that were known to be effective in treating debilitating conditions, and skillfully adjusted the proportions of all the herbs.

Perhaps it was Hua Tuo's miraculous healing skills, or perhaps it was God's blessing, but the patient's condition finally showed some improvement. The high fever was no longer there, only a low fever. However, he was still unconscious, and his pulse showed no signs of improvement. He was still alarmingly weak.

Hua Tuo stared at the unconscious patient, his brow furrowed. After a long moment of deep thought, he turned his gaze to the worried Zhen Mi standing beside him and asked in a gentle voice, "Young lady, his body is too weak. Medicine alone is far from enough. Let me ask you, what do you usually feed him?"

Zhen Mi was slightly stunned, a hint of shyness flashed across her face. After hesitating for a moment, she softly replied, "He is unconscious now, how can he eat on his own? I can only feed him some liquid food like rice porridge." As soon as she said this, she recalled the scene of feeding him medicine and porridge mouth to mouth, and her cheeks instantly flushed, like the sunset on the horizon.

Hua Tuo was very intelligent and naturally understood the reason, but he did not point it out. Instead, he continued with concern, "Young lady, this won't do. He was injured by an arrow and lost too much blood. He is very weak now. Just relying on rice porridge is not enough nutrition for him. In the long run, his body will only become weaker. We need to find some food like minced meat. If we can find some tonic food like ginseng to supplement his nutrition, it would be even better."

After hearing this, Zhen Mi nodded repeatedly, but then her face became troubled and she said helplessly, "But he is unconscious now, his teeth are clenched, how can he eat meat?"

Hua Tuo stroked his beard and said slowly, "You might as well boil the meat until it's extremely mushy, and then feed it to him slowly. It will at least help replenish his vitality."

Zhen Mi did not dare to delay and immediately ordered the old housekeeper in a hurry: "Hurry up and take the risk to go to Hanzhong City and find some precious herbs from the herbal medicine shop, especially ginseng. Be sure to find them as soon as possible. He depends on these to save his life." The old housekeeper took the order, turned around and left in a hurry, his steps hurried, and disappeared on the path outside the door, leaving only Zhen Mi and Hua Tuo guarding the patient, full of hope for a turn for the better.

The old butler, fully aware of the stakes, immediately embarked on a journey through the streets and alleys of Hanzhong City. He searched every medical clinic in the city, anxiously asking the owner if they had any century-old ginseng. To gather the necessary ingredients as quickly as possible, he disregarded the price, even offering exorbitant sums without hesitation.

After countless detours and countless inquiries, the old housekeeper finally found the long-desired century-old ginseng in a humble, time-honored clinic. The ginseng was of exceptional quality, with a slender stem, a plump body, and intact roots—a rare treasure. With trembling hands, the old housekeeper carefully picked it up, paid a large sum, and without a moment's delay, hurried back with the ginseng in his arms.

As Zhen Mi accepted the ginseng, her eyes welled up, her heart filled with gratitude. She immediately followed Hua Tuo's instructions and cooked the ginseng with fresh meat into a porridge. As the porridge simmered in the pot, its rich aroma gradually spread, carrying the hope of life.

For several days thereafter, Zhen Mi stayed by the bedside, gently scooping up the porridge with a spoon, patiently waiting for it to cool slightly before feeding it to the patient bit by bit. With each bite, she poured all her heart and soul into the patient's face, her eyes fixed on his face, as if this could pass on her strength to him.

Perhaps this persistence and meticulous care had worked; the patient's complexion gradually improved, a faint blush slowly appearing on his once pale cheeks, and his breathing becoming more steady and powerful. But even so, he still lay there quietly, his eyes tightly closed, showing no signs of waking up, leaving Zhen Mi with a constant sense of suspense and restlessness.

Hua Tuo arrived punctually every morning, his steps hurried but steady. He would approach the patient's bedside, first examining him with a concerned gaze, then reaching out and gently placing his fingers on the patient's pulse, his expression focused, as if he were trying to uncover the secrets of life from that faint beat.

After a moment, Hua Tuo nodded slightly, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Well, the pulse has improved a little. It seems that the careful care and nourishment these days have taken effect." However, his brows soon furrowed slightly again. "However, the improvement is still too limited. Perhaps the medicinal power of the ginseng is still not mature enough."

Upon hearing this, Zhen Mi's smile froze, her eyes filled with helplessness and anxiety. "Mr. Hua Tuo, I've exhausted all my efforts to find this century-old ginseng. I've searched every clinic in Hanzhong City, but I can't find anything better. What should I do?" Her voice was choked with sobs, and she felt helpless.

Hua Tuo sighed softly and said soothingly, "Don't worry too much, young lady. This is all we can do for now. It's already been a real achievement for you to get this far. With careful care and the patient's will to live, perhaps a miracle will happen one day."

Zhen Mi nodded silently, looking at the still unconscious man on the hospital bed, her eyes full of determination: "Even if there is only a glimmer of hope, I will never give up. I will always stay with him and wait for him to wake up." From then on, Zhen Mi settled down in this temporary residence with peace of mind, taking good care of the patient every day, looking forward to the miracle that would come at an unknown time.