It was past one o'clock at night, and Yuanye felt like he had returned to high school, starting to burn the midnight oil again. He hunched over the desk, using pinyin to quickly transcribe the "Barefoot Doctor's Manual" onto his phone—only selectively transcribing parts. He temporarily skipped the quotes from great figures and sections on medical ethics and ideals, focusing mainly on methods for diagnosing and treating illnesses, along with the techniques for collecting and preparing medicines found in the appendices.
As for whether he could adapt to local conditions...
The issue shouldn't be too big; the "Barefoot Doctor's Manual" is truly the fruit of labor and dedication from a generation of medical workers, catering to the entire nation and taking into account the diverse environments in various regions, adopting a localized approach. For a single illness, it offers a dozen different prescriptions, and the ingredients for these remedies are often easily found locally.
Convenient, simple, and inexpensive—any potential difficulties have been carefully thought out by a team of experts who have devised over a dozen solutions. You just need to choose one that you can execute and repeat the process as outlined in the manual.
Even if he were now switched to Japan's Middle Ages, perhaps there might be slight discomfort, but it doesn't matter; there is no medical disturbance in this era—the consequences are deserved if the patient dies, so long as he doesn't ruin his reputation by causing all patients to die.
A brand new "time-traveling version of a Mongolian doctor" is rising, and the people of Japan's Middle Ages are blessed!
Yuanye felt no psychological burden about becoming a "Mongolian doctor." Given that Japan poisoned the world by discharging nuclear waste in later eras, he is already quite conscientious by not selling water charms in Japan. Who dares to say he's not a good person?
If anyone dares to criticize him for this, he would slap them. He is not someone to be bullied meekly!
He was transcribing with his mind empty and his pen flying across the page when suddenly his ears twitched; he faintly heard a sound at the door of the house. Earlier, he had scattered a small handful of rice grains on the stone slab at the door. When someone steps on them, the faint sound of friction in the stillness of the night is enough to alert someone if they are attentive.
What was meant to come has come. Initially thought to be helping honest folks, he had even started to trust them...
Yuanye sighed inwardly, his gaze turned dark. Having been prepared for this, he directly locked his phone, blew out the oil lamp, and grabbed a wooden basin beside him with one hand. He slowly poured the water from the basin onto the straw mat on the earthen bed, letting the water flow into the soil—this was the face-washing water Yayoi had brought to him earlier. From last night, he had been telling Yayoi not to take it away, planning to use it for self-defense at this moment.
The water flowed silently, and the room was pitch dark.
A moment later, the corner of the straw curtain functioning as a door was lifted, and a shadow stealthily sneaked in, difficult to discern in shape, with only a blade's edge reflecting a sliver of moonlight; and from the footsteps, it seemed another person followed behind.
Yuanye had already put on his shoes earlier; he kept the shoes by his side. Meng Ziqi was also hidden in a corner by him, and the electric stick was set to maximum power, powerful enough to electrocute a wild boar. Upon hearing the two people move onto the earthen bed, he directly thrust the electric stick onto the soaked straw mat.
Instantly, the room was brilliantly illuminated with electric light; the straw mat near Yuanye even jumped up, emitting violent "crackle crackle" sounds. Meanwhile, the two people on all fours in the dark, having just moved onto the earthen bed, let out muffled grunts and were flung into the soil, flipping onto the ground and immediately beginning to twitch uncontrollably.
Great, even ancient people can't withstand electric shocks!
Yuanye stepped forward without hesitation, giving each person another jolt with the electric stick, rendering them stiff like salted fish, silent, and directly urinating.
Being electrocuted is an exceedingly painful experience; in that instant, it feels as though even your heart is not your own, incapable of even crying out, let alone using any other organs.
In the words of seasoned inmates, anyone who can take three electric shocks without urinating is a real hero.
Clearly, these fellows who snuck in aren't heroes; they urinated after just two shocks.
These two individuals had completely lost their combat ability and definitely cannot recover shortly. Yuanye ignored them and strode towards the outside of the house with a blank expression. But just as he walked to the door, the straw curtain was gently lifted, and a shadow quickly flashed inside, silent in action, almost diving directly into his arms.
This was way beyond Yuanye's expectations, frightening him; he instinctively reached out a hand to push and simultaneously went to jab him with the electric stick.
The shadow was clearly equally shocked, eagerly trying to sneak in for a backstab, utterly unexpected of someone standing at the door. As he snuck in, his head hadn't even lifted yet, nearly being knocked over.
Yet, the shadow's reaction was exceedingly swift. Despite nearly not being able to see due to the dim light, he instinctively sensed that Yuanye was about to jab him with something. With a deep-seated grunt, he swung to block, but with a flash of electricity, he was immediately shocked away, bumped into the straw curtain, and slid down onto the ground.
Yuanye showed no compassion, chasing forward with a fierce kick. The hard hiking boot hit the small shadow, causing it to scream in agony, sliding diagonally, heavily hitting the wall, bouncing back before lying utterly motionless.
Another one down!
Yuanye's adrenaline surged rapidly, metaphorically 'seeing red,' his eyes revealing a fierce intent, as if he returned to childhood when finally resisting after enduring all he could against his drunken and routinely violent father. At that moment, he retorted, drew out a signal gun, lifted the door curtain, and exited the house.
Life is hard, human nature treacherous, akin to rolling naked through the fire of hell; if not forged like steel, it turns to ashes.
Who in this world can have everything go smoothly? Doesn't everyone overcome obstacles one by one?
Fight when you have to. Since childhood, he understood that retreat, endurance, and weakness wouldn't yield good outcomes; he always dared to go all out!
But beyond his expectations, as he strode into the courtyard, he only saw the moon casting its gentle glow, a tranquil night scene.