7: Chapter 7 Stop Bashing Her, Okay_1 7: Chapter 7 Stop Bashing Her, Okay_1 Zhulan gestured to her two sons to look after her husband while she followed the doctor out and sat in front of him as he wrote out the prescription.
Then she thought of herself, her body had become severely weakened from consecutive childbirths; otherwise, she wouldn’t have ended up here.
When the doctor finished writing the prescription, she spoke up, “Doctor, please take a look at me too, I feel weak all over, my lower back hurts, I sweat profusely, and I have no strength at all.”
Zhulan wasn’t lying; she felt it when she got up in the morning.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t need her sons’ help to support her husband at all, as she remembered being quite able on her own.
The doctor stroked his beard, “Stretch out your hand.”
Zhulan became even more anxious, fearing that there was something seriously wrong with her body.
She had just come to accept her new identity; it couldn’t be that she was now in bad health, which would truly be a death sentence.
The doctor released her hand, “Your body is extremely depleted and you have overworked yourself, but fortunately, you have a good foundation.
However, you need to slowly recover and replenish your vitality, which will not be cheap nor quick.
Should I prescribe something for you?”
Zhulan looked at her grey cloth clothes, the kind she wore for housework, which she didn’t even bother to change before rushing out.
Indeed, she didn’t look like someone who could afford treatment.
In ancient rural areas, very few families were willing to afford the recuperation, especially the elderly.
But Zhulan thought of the original owner’s memories and felt confident, “Please do so, I can afford it.”
The doctor was surprised for a moment but didn’t ask any further questions.
He promptly wrote a prescription for three days’ worth of treatment, “Come back after three days so I can check your pulse and see how you’re doing.”
“Okay, thank you, doctor.”
Luckily, Zhulan had brought enough money.
Her husband’s medicine was cheap; three days’ worth was less than one hundred coins.
Hers, however, was expensive; three days’ worth was one liang.
No wonder the doctor had confirmed it several times.
This was just for three days, and a month’s treatment would cost nearly ten liang; her heart trembled at the thought.
It was past noon when Zhulan had her eldest son buy some meat-stuffed buns.
After feeling her thin arm and seeing her husband’s gaunt appearance, she decided to buy four jin of fatty pork and added two large bones, spending a total of forty-two coins.
After this single outing and paying for the Lizheng’s cart hire, she had spent one liang one hundred sixty coins.
Zhulan felt sentimental; whether in the modern age or ancient times, seeking medical care was always expensive.
When she returned home, her husband had still not regained consciousness.
Zhulan, concerned about money and not feeling much joy, looked even paler due to the jostling of the journey.
Just as she reached her house, news spread through the village that Zhou Shuren was on his deathbed.
Zhulan took out a pottery jar to prepare the medicine, while entrusting the pork to her eldest daughter-in-law.
Her skills were limited to those from her modern life – mainly takeout and restaurant dining – she only knew how to make simple dishes and certainly not something as complex as rendering fat from pork.
In total, she bought twelve meat buns, at two coins each.
Zhulan ate one, saved two for her sons at school, left one for her young daughter who was out, and distributed the rest among her eldest and second sons—eight buns for four people in the family.
As Zhulan had just started to boil the medicine, the second son’s wife came to her with a bun, trembling, “Mother, this is for you to eat.”
She was perplexed; sharing buns had scared Lady Zhao half to death.
Lady Li, who was cutting the pork, glanced over, “Mother, the boys haven’t had enough to eat yet!”
Zhulan gave her eldest daughter-in-law a sidelong glance.
The original owner truly liked her bold and spicy nature, but she was also sneaky.
With a weary look, Zhulan spoke tersely to Lady Zhao, “Eat it if it’s given to you, and don’t bother me.
Hurry up and get out.”
Lady Zhao’s eyes reddened as she started to sniffle, “Mother, you’re really kind.”
If you truly think I’m kind, then please stop crying.
Stop blackening my name, okay?