Chapter 18: 18, Quite simple

"Brother, this isn't so bad either," Yan Liuyuan said with a smile: "Regardless of the effects, there's money to be made anyway."

Ren Xiaosu wasn't pleased and spoke in a low voice: "Is this about making money? How many times can this yield genuine gratitude?"

This matter, Ren Xiaosu had thought through clearly. Relying on such effects to buy medicine, the chance of harvesting sincere thanks was far lower than saving lives. Only someone like Old Wang, a withered soul yearning for spring, would utter a word of thanks.

Moreover, was his purpose merely to make money? No, he needed thanks. Without gratitude, there would be no black medicine.

Ren Xiaosu spoke with slight anger: "If I save lives, the people in the market would treat me with courtesy. Look at the young man in that clinic—how many he's killed, yet no one dares touch him. Why? Because he's the only doctor in the market!"

"Brother, you're right," Yan Liuyuan said, lowering his eyes and nodding in agreement. In truth, he didn't care; he knew... they were about to grow rich slowly.

"And most importantly," Ren Xiaosu continued: "If I save lives, people would call me 'Doctor Ren.' If not, what would they call me behind my back? Hey, that medicine seller..."

The social status difference was obvious, wasn't it?

Yan Liuyuan finally couldn't hold back, laughing heartily inside the hut. "Brother, your inner thoughts are quite elaborate."

Yet Ren Xiaosu knew nothing. The medicine he sold to Old Wang hadn't been used by him—after all, Old Wang hadn't found a lover yet...

The black medicine bottle wasn't remarkable; it was just an ordinary porcelain vial from the market. The original bottle for the black medicine was glass, with high craftsmanship. Ren Xiaosu worried this thing might raise suspicion again, for no one in the market sold such bottles.

The small porcelain bottle passed from Wang Fului to the market's administrator—the few who had emerged from the refuge barrier.

Old Wang thought Ren Xiaosu didn't understand the value of this item, but he did.

Where was this black medicine's oral function most needed? The men in the market? No.

Though the men in the market could barely sustain themselves, some were thin, they labored daily. Despite their gaunt frames, their bodies were strong.

As long as they exercised and maintained their metabolism and organ functions, it was effortless. So they didn't need this thing much.

Those who truly needed it were the "nobles" in the refuge barrier.

Wang Fului, with a thief's brows and rat-like eyes, handed the black medicine to the administrator from the refuge barrier. The administrator was discerning; their daily work was to detect anomalies in the market. So he knew about Iron Head licking the medicine last night.

Yet he didn't use it, instead gifting it to his superior that night.

In the end, the small black medicine porcelain vial vanished without a trace.

Ren Xiaosu knew nothing. He exchanged another gratitude coin for a bottle of black medicine, then had Xiao Yu'er tear a piece of white hemp cloth from the market, embroidering "Clinic" in bold characters, followed by "Specializing in Knife Wounds, a Doctor's Benevolent Heart" in smaller script.

Thus, the clinic was established.

While embroidering, Xiao Yu'er asked if Ren Xiaosu wanted to add "Miraculous Hands Bringing Back Spring." Ren Xiaosu quickly refused; he was sensitive to the word "spring" now...

Ren Xiaosu's life gradually fell into routine: mornings gathering herbs, afternoons seeing patients in his own hut, evenings teaching survival classes, then reviewing notes with Yan Liuyuan.

Though his clinic had no business, one couldn't simply abandon it—what if a patient arrived? Xiao Yu'er alone couldn't handle it.

He longed to sit in the spacious, bright classroom like Yan Liuyuan, but if he went to study, what would happen to Yan Liuyuan and Xiao Yu'er?

This family needed someone to sacrifice their own wishes.

The next day, Ren Xiaosu sat in the hut with the door curtain lifted, meditating with eyes closed. Xiao Yu'er mended clothes behind him, sometimes sighing, "These brothers never patched the holes in their clothes before, how did they accumulate so many..."

At that moment, someone rushed over from the opposite side of the dirt path, his arm bleeding.

Ren Xiaosu's eyes lit up: "This wound might kill you if left untreated."

Yet the man didn't even glance at Ren Xiaosu. By instinct, people sought treatment at the clinic—it was more authoritative. Moreover, their impression of Ren Xiaosu as "that medicine seller" outweighed "capable of treating knife wounds."

At that moment, the long-absent palace voice echoed in his mind: "Mission: Save one patient."

Ren Xiaosu stood up, sighing: "I'm sorry."

Before Xiao Yu'er could react, she saw Ren Xiaosu dash out, returning within a minute with the man slung over his shoulder...

Ren Xiaosu and Yan Yuese spoke to the patient: "The doctor in that clinic is a charlatan. I brought you here to save you, understand?"

The man, weakened by blood loss, nearly collapsed under Ren Xiaosu's grip.

At that moment, two more men rushed over from the opposite side of the dirt path, both wounded. Ren Xiaosu paused: "Did you fight a group?"

The pinned man explained: "No, the factory's boiler exploded! We're lucky to have made it back ourselves. Some probably died on the spot."

Ren Xiaosu nodded silently. In this age, no one would kindly take you to a doctor if you were injured in a factory—death meant your belongings were theirs.

"Come on, Xiao Yu'er, sterilize the needle first," Ren Xiaosu said. Though he didn't worry about infection, he had to put on a show for the patient. As he spoke, he went out again, returning with two more men...

Ren Xiaosu held them down with both hands and a leg; the three men were lifeless, having learned the hard way about injury.

Moreover, they knew Ren Xiaosu's place could treat wounds, but they were used to going to the clinic. Now immobilized, they simply stayed still.

Then, the three saw Xiao Yu'er set aside her needlework, took the needle used for sewing clothes, and burned it over the fire. The needle was long, so holding the tip to burn wouldn't scorch her hand.

"Directly stitch?" Xiao Yu'er asked timidly.

"Yes, just like sewing clothes," Ren Xiaosu smiled: "It's quite simple."

Xiao Yu'er mustered courage and began stitching one man's wound. Suddenly, a sizzling sound, and a burnt smell rose from his skin...

The man trembled and asked, "I understand you sterilized the needle with fire, but could you wait for it to cool before stitching..."