As they checked people one by one, more and more commoners showing symptoms were brought in. The administrative office was converted into a temporary hospital, and at Shen Tang's suggestion, patients were divided into different areas according to the severity of their condition. The first batch of masks, gloves, and protective suits went to the physicians, apprentices, and Martial Gall Warriors caring for the patients. The latter were mainly responsible for the strenuous work that involved close contact with them.
Elder Physician Dong couldn't help feeling envious.
What man hadn't dreamed of one day becoming a Literary Scholar or Martial Gall Warrior, roaming the world with a sword at his side, punishing the wicked and standing up for the people? Elder Physician Dong had naturally dreamed of it too, but what he longed for even more was a Word Spirit that could cure every illness in the world.
But he knew that was impossible.
Still, literary and martial energy were genuinely useful.
With those two things, epidemics that made commoners blanch posed little threat to them, and they could enter and leave the hospital without worrying about catching anything. Elder Physician Dong finished writing a prescription and sent his grandson to fetch and brew the medicine.
Before long, the faint scent of medicine filled the hospital.
But the patients showed no improvement after drinking it.
Soon, several newly arrived patients took a turn for the worse. Their vomit was streaked with conspicuous, startling flecks of blood. Elder Physician Dong stayed in the hospital, not daring to close his eyes all night. Shen Tang, Qi Shan, and Kang Shi stood ready at all times to channel literary energy into the patients.
Most of the patients were ordinary people.
Their meridians couldn't withstand an infusion of literary energy.
Too little, and it