Chapter 70: Zhang Zhongjing

After leaving the Jia residence, the middle-aged man wove through several alleys in the city. Jiang Wen, carrying his bundle, followed closely behind him.

The man entered a small courtyard, tucked away in a secluded corner; the surrounding houses were deserted, and aside from himself, no one else lived there. The plaque above the door was battered, and the yard was crowded with herbs of all kinds. A ceramic pot sat over the fire, simmering medicinal concoctions that filled the air with a pungent, oppressive scent.

The middle-aged man seated himself a short distance away, keeping watch over the stove while noting something on a bamboo slip with brush and ink. “Ever since I resigned from my post, few have come to visit. Who might you be?”

“I am Jiang Wen, courtesy name Changsu. Greetings, sir.”

“Sir?” Zhang Zhongjing looked up with a wry smile. “I’m surprised I, Zhang Zhongjing, still have some reputation left. What brings you here?”

“Sir, your dedication to saving lives and your tireless study of the medical arts inspire my deepest respect. Having heard of your reclusion, I have come especially to pay my respects.”

“The world is vast, and many talented folk strive to save the common people and restore the foundation of the Han court. Do you admire all of them?”

Zhang Zhongjing set aside his bamboo slip, walked to the ceramic pot, opened it, and tossed in several herbs from a nearby basket. “I have long since resigned my official duties; now I am but a humble physician, not even equal to a county magistrate. If you’re here just to flatter and cajole, please leave at once—I have no wish to drive you out.”

Returning to his seat, Zhang Zhongjing drew another bamboo scroll from the pile beside him and continued recording his ingredients, paying no further heed to Jiang Wen.

“Anyone of great talent, should they deliver the people from suffering, is worthy of my admiration. Sir, you are no exception. If your abilities were aided by wise patrons, what need would there be for present worries?”

“Is that so? To my mind, admiration is but a pleasant word, easy to speak.” Zhang Zhongjing’s smile was cold. “As you say, respect those of talent. Yet should these people one day threaten the Chancellor, how will you treat them? With a blade, or with poison?”

Jiang Wen remained silent.

Zhang Zhongjing’s expression stayed calm as he continued, “Military advisor and wine master—a position the Chancellor created for you, neither above nor below anyone else, answering only to him. Even I, buried in medical texts, have heard your name. But if you are here to persuade me to return to office, save your breath.”

Jiang Wen replied respectfully, “My purpose today is solely to meet you, sir, with no other intention. However, if you would accompany me, I would give you my utmost support.”

Zhang Zhongjing laughed and shook his head. “I have long grown weary of court affairs. For today’s lords, seizing power and dominating the Central Plains is all that matters.”

“But these ever more frequent wars have brought plague and desolation—how many towns have become empty shells? I am but a humble physician, without your vision. I do not know how to rule; I only know how to heal. Please, advisor, leave.”

Jiang Wen bowed without betraying his thoughts. “Forgive my intrusion; I shall depart now. Should you ever pass through Xiangyang, please visit the Jiang residence. I would be honored to host you.”

After leaving the small courtyard, Jiang Wen reflected that, though the times were filled with renowned strategists, Zhang Zhongjing was not among the famous. True sages were rare in this vast world—yet here was one before him.

As Jiang Wen was departing, an elderly Taoist appeared. Yu Ji approached and asked, “Is this Zhang Zhongjing’s home?”

“Yes. What business have you?”

Yu Ji smiled, “This used to be Master Jia’s property. He lent it to Zhang Zhongjing in gratitude, but today he wishes to reclaim it.”

“So, you’re here for a reward, healing Master Jia’s son?” Jiang Wen regarded Yu Ji calmly, suddenly struck by a thought.

Yu Ji studied Jiang Wen. “And who might you be?”

Jiang Wen pondered briefly, then said, “You’re here to evict Zhang Zhongjing?”

“Indeed. This will be my residence from now on.”

“Well, Zhang Zhongjing is inside, but he is eccentric and stubborn. If you try to drive him out now, and he loses his temper, it might cause trouble for the people of Deng County. Perhaps you should bring some servants with you—it would go more smoothly.”

Yu Ji shook his head. “Thank you for your warning, young master, but I’ve heard from Master Jia that Zhang Zhongjing is gentle and kind.”

Jiang Wen moved closer. “Taoist, Zhang Zhongjing is the very man who cursed you when you treated Master Jia’s son. If you confront him now, do you think you’ll be all right?”

“It’s him!” Yu Ji glanced warily at the courtyard. “Then I’ll speak to Master Jia first. Thank you, young master.”

Jiang Wen returned the bow. “No need for thanks. Please, hurry.”

He had thought it would be difficult to drive Zhang Zhongjing out, but help appeared immediately—Jiang Wen could not help but smile.

Jiang Wen had never intended to recommend this physician for office; even if he did, few would respect him. After all, Zhang Zhongjing had resigned even as a prefect.

Jiang Wen simply wished to befriend him. In an age where a single illness could prove fatal, having a miracle physician as a friend would be an immeasurable benefit.