Chang'an's streets were bustling with traffic, and the roads were neat, broad, and clean. Rows of houses with courtyards lined both sides of the street. They were all spacious, single-story homes, each standing alone.
Hua Dou strolled along the street and nodded. "This is quite a nice place."
Ziyang snorted. "Anyone can see this is where the rich live. How could Peng Yi experience the common people's suffering here? I'm afraid he's forgotten why he took up medicine in the first place!"
Hua Dou shook his head and gazed toward the medical clinic ahead. It was bustling with activity.
The two approached the entrance and looked up. This building was a hundred times more impressive than their Guizhi Hall: three stories tall and five bays wide. Above the entrance hung a plaque edged with carved sandalwood. Its dark blue-green background bore raised gold lettering, framed by golden clouds. Though it was night, it still shone brilliantly. The words read: "Wielding a Pot to Save the World." Delicate lattice windows flanked the entrance, and large red lanterns hung high at both corners. The six carved wooden doors stood open, revealing a thick red curtain embroidered with gold thread.
Hua Dou asked an elderly woman by the entrance, "Excuse me, is Doctor Peng here?"
The woman replied warmly, "He is, he is. He was treating patients just a moment ago."
"Where is he? Could you take me to see him? Sorry to trouble you," Hua Dou said calmly.
"Of course. This way." The old woman led Hua Dou inside. Beyond the back door was another large hall, divided into several small rooms, each with a number of beds. Most were occupied by patients, many suffering from wounds, cuts, or sores. Several men in long robes were busy cleaning wounds and changing dressings.