Chapter 28: Injuried

As the month of La (the twelfth lunar month) arrived, the weather grew increasingly cold and harsh.

Frost formed in the mountain hollows, lingering even past noon without melting.

The wind blowing through the empty valley felt as if it had been frozen for a hundred years.

Kang He and Fan Jing’s winter clothes were not thick.

Their old cotton jackets had less than two ounces of cotton, and after long wear, the cotton had clumped together, offering little warmth.

When going out, they would wear an extra layer of animal hide, but it did little to keep them warm.

They had to rely on physical exertion to generate some heat in their bodies.

Fan Jing, having spent many years in the mountains, was accustomed to the high-altitude cold and could endure it.

But for Kang He, this was his first year staying in the mountains.

Fearing Kang He couldn’t withstand the cold, Fan Jing told him that once snowflakes fell, even if they didn’t accumulate, they would pack up and head down the mountain.

Kang He, observing the weather, felt it wouldn’t be more than a couple of days before that happened.

“It’s getting late. Time to get up,” Fan Jing said early in the morning, already awake for some time.

He was held tightly by Kang He, their bodies pressed close together, the warmth of the bedding so comforting that Fan Jing, unusually, didn’t get up right away.

Instead, he lingered in bed with Kang He for a while.

“I got up earlier to use the outhouse and saw a thin layer of frost at the door. By now, the ground outside must be covered in frost and slippery. It’s not good to go out yet. Why not stay in bed a bit longer?” Kang He said, holding Fan Jing to keep him from getting up.

His body, like Kang He’s, was cold as ice, only warming up after being held for a long time.

Now that both were warm, Kang He was reluctant to let go.

Fan Jing, caught in Kang He’s embrace, couldn’t get up and had no choice but to stay in bed a bit longer.

After about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, he said, “I’m hungry.”

Hearing this, Kang He, who had seemed intent on lingering in bed, quickly got up to heat some food.

He hurriedly put on his clothes, which felt as if they had been frozen in an ice cellar overnight.

Even through his undergarments, the cold fabric made him shiver.

Kang He pressed Fan Jing, who was about to get up, back onto the bed.

“I’ll start the fire first, then you can get up.”

He shivered as he lit the fire, and once it was burning strongly, he warmed Fan Jing’s outer clothes by the stove, removing the chill before handing them over.

Fan Jing touched the warm clothes, his heart stirred with indescribable emotions.

Only when his mother was alive had she warmed his clothes by the fire in winter and brought them to his bedside.

In the morning, the two ate hot porridge and went out to roam the mountains.

By the river, they caught a pair of wild ducks.

Kang He took off his shoes and socks to check the cages set in the river, pulling them up to find four green fish in six cages.

By the time he returned to shore, his feet were so numb from the cold they turned a frosty red.

Fan Jing used his sweat-soaked undershirt to dry Kang He’s feet and quickly put his shoes and socks back on.

On their way back, they checked the beehives.

To their delight, a hive on the cliff’s edge had attracted bees.

Kang He applied fresh bee balm to an empty hive in the wild fruit grove, hoping to lure a swarm to build a nest.

Later, a strong wind rose, and the dry leaves in the forest fell with a rustling sound, painfully pelting them.

Kang He felt as if the flesh on his face was being scraped off.

If this continued, frostbite on their hands and feet, and chapped faces, would be inevitable.

They ran back to the cabin.

At the wooden cabin, Kang He quickly boiled some hot water, adding peppercorns, old ginger, and cinnamon twigs to make a warming broth.

They washed their faces and feet together, and as their body warmth slowly returned, they soaked in the broth.

Fan Jing, sensitive to heat, rested his feet on Kang He’s larger ones, and the two soaked in a single bucket of water until they were sweating.

“After getting chilled, drinking ginger soup or mutton broth can dispel the cold. There’s also a folk remedy—hot honey wine,” Kang He said to Fan Jing.

There was no mutton in the cabin, but they had ginger, honey, and wine.

Fan Jing, who loved sweets, had nearly finished a jar of honey Kang He had prepared for mixing with hot water.

“If you don’t dispel the cold in time and get frostbite, badger oil can help,” Kang He added with a smile.

“But you don’t need to know this. It doesn’t matter if you forget, as long as I’m here.”

Fan Jing glanced at him without speaking, but playfully pinched Kang He’s calf with his toes.

Kang He yelped, pulling his foot away, causing Fan Jing to slip into the bucket and yelp from the hot water.

As they soaked and teased each other, a loud banging came from outside, less like knocking and more like someone pounding the door urgently.

They immediately stopped, quickly slipping their feet into straw sandals.

“Who’s there?!” Kang He shouted.

Fan Jing grabbed a longbow and arrows, following Kang He to the door.

“It’s me, Zhang Shili!” came the reply, and both men visibly relaxed.

“Brother Zhang, what brings you here at this hour?” Kang He asked as he opened the door.

It was already getting dark outside, and Zhang Shili looked like he had run all the way, sweat on his forehead.

Zhang Shili, never one for idle talk, explained that Ge Youquan had been injured by a wild boar.

His leg was badly hurt, bleeding heavily, and he couldn’t move easily.

Zhang had rushed down the mountain to find a doctor but stopped by, knowing Kang He had some medical knowledge, to see if he could help.

Seeing Zhang Shili’s urgency, Kang He knew the injury was serious.

It would take hours to fetch a doctor, even at best.

Glancing at Fan Jing, who had furrowed his brows, Kang He made up his mind.

“Alright, I’ll go take a look and see if I can help,” he said.

In a matter of life and death, he set aside past grievances for now.

Zhang Shili, relieved and grateful, didn’t linger and ran back down the mountain.

Kang He packed a medicine box with all the herbs in the cabin.

Fan Jing wrapped a piece of old cloth to make a torch.

Armed with a knife and bow, they headed to Ge Youquan’s place.

They hurried along, covering the usual hour-and-a-half journey in just over half an hour.

When Cui Cuilan opened the door and saw Kang He and Fan Jing, she froze, tears forgotten in her shock.

“Why are you two…?”

Kang He quickly explained, “Brother Zhang passed by and told us. I know a bit about medicine. If you’re okay with it, I’ll take a look at Brother Ge. If you’re worried, Fan Jing and I can just stay with you until Zhang returns with the doctor.”

Cui Cuilan’s nose stung at his words.

Wiping her eyes, she ushered them inside.

The smell of blood hit Kang He as soon as he entered.

Ge Youquan lay on a makeshift wooden bed, his face pale with three or four bloody gashes, his right eye nearly swollen shut.

He tried to speak as Kang He and Fan Jing approached but was too weak to make a sound.

Kang He called out to him and checked the wound.

Ge’s leg was loosely wrapped in cloth, nearly soaked through with blood.

Cui Cuilan had cleaned his body and face with hot water, but his torn, mud- and moss-stained clothes hinted at the attack’s ferocity.

“No one knew there was a boar behind him. He was focused on the one in front, but the one behind ambushed him, knocking him down and dragging him,” Cui Cuilan said through tears.

“The bleeding won’t stop. He can’t lose this much blood. Brother Kang, please, look at him. Even if you can’t save him, we won’t blame you. Just please try…”

Kang He examined the wound, noting some clotting.

He asked Cui Cuilan for clean cloth to layer over it, then carefully elevated Ge’s leg above his heart, pressing two fingers at the groin to slow the bleeding.

With no free hands, he instructed Fan Jing to fetch the hemostatic ointment he’d used before.

Fan Jing, who had seen Kang He treat his own arm injury, recognized the ointment, made from herbs like plantain and dandelion, by its smell.

Working together, they managed to stop the bleeding within about fifteen minutes.

Kang He, Fan Jing, and Cui Cuilan all breathed a sigh of relief.

Ge Youquan, weakened by blood loss, was cold and had passed out.

Fan Jing stoked the fire to warm the room, while Cui Cuilan warmed a blanket and gently covered Ge.

Realizing she hadn’t offered them anything, she poured hot tea for Kang He and Fan Jing.

Afterward, Cui Cuilan covered her face, sobbing quietly.

Years ago, a hunter in the mountains had died from a severe injury before a doctor could arrive.

Kang He and Fan Jing, thirsty from their rush and efforts, drank the tea quickly.

They tried to comfort Cui Cuilan, but her fear made it hard for her to listen.

When Zhang Shili returned with the doctor near midnight, the doctor was sweating from the climb and the eerie animal calls in the forest.

Without pausing, he examined Ge’s wounds.

The injury was severe, and normally, the bleeding would have been fatal by the time he arrived.

But seeing the bleeding stopped and the wound expertly bandaged, he exclaimed, “You’ve got a skilled healer here! Why drag an old man out in the middle of the night?”

Kang He quickly clarified, “I only know a little. For something this serious, we needed an expert like you. Thank you for coming.”

The doctor glanced at Kang He, surprised to see a young man, and softened.

“You did well. How did you stop the bleeding?”

Kang He explained his method, and the doctor nodded approvingly.

“Good thing you knew what to do, or he wouldn’t have lasted until I got here.”

The doctor found a broken rib in addition to the leg injury and treated it.

By the time he finished, it was past 2 a.m., with dawn not far off.

They ate some hot soup, and at first light, Zhang Shili escorted the doctor back down the mountain.

Kang He and Fan Jing returned to their cabin.

Cui Cuilan thanked everyone profusely, paying the doctor a string of cash for the visit and medicine.

Though it was costly, saving a life made money seem less important.

“You’ve got a big heart, going to help after everything,” Zhang Shili said gratefully to Kang He on their way back.

He and the Ge family were old friends, and despite past tensions, he had to help.

Kang He, despite being wronged by them, was still willing to assist.

“It’s a matter of life and death. No time for grudges. Besides, we went because you asked,” Kang He replied.

Zhang Shili laughed.

“You sure know how to talk. We’ll catch up another day with some good meat and wine.”

Kang He agreed.

Back at the cabin, exhausted from a sleepless night, Kang He and Fan Jing washed their feet in hot water and slept until the afternoon.

Zhang Shili later informed the Ge family in the village about the situation, arranging for Ge Youquan to be brought home on a stretcher in a few days.

Before Zhang could visit for a meal, Cui Cuilan and Ge Youquan’s father came to the cabin with a basket of eggs, a crate of pears, five pounds of flour, and a home-raised rooster.

“That day, if you two hadn’t come to help, I’d have been alone with Youquan, and he might’ve bled out or I’d have died of worry,” Cui Cuilan said.

“Thanks to you, Brother Kang, you saved his life. We’re endlessly grateful.”

“That day was chaos, and I didn’t thank you properly. Words alone can’t express our gratitude,” she continued sincerely.

“We treated you poorly before, but you didn’t hold it against us and still helped. I lied about the sheep in the trap, making up stories because I didn’t want you digging roots on our land. I’m so sorry.”

Cui Cuilan’s face flushed with shame, but she felt she had to confess to sleep at night.

Ge Youquan, bedridden, had been saying he owed Kang He an apology.

“It should’ve been both of us apologizing, but he can’t get out of bed, so I came with his father.”

Kang He could see her sincerity, especially with an elder present.

He thought back to what Fan Jing had once said and replied, “Life in the mountains is tough. Even if it wasn’t your family, I’d help anyone I could. You and Uncle don’t need to thank me.”

Fan Jing glanced at Kang He.

“As for the past, since you’ve apologized sincerely, let it go,” Kang He said.

Cui Cuilan felt even more ashamed, realizing how kind and generous Kang He was.

She regretted her earlier actions, especially since Zhang Shili had introduced such a good person to them.

Kang He accepted the gifts and apologies, and Cui Cuilan left with some peace of mind, inviting them to visit their home and take whatever roots they wanted.

Kang He didn’t respond, only smiling as he saw them off.

“You’re too kind,” Fan Jing said, biting into a pear from the Ge family.

It wasn’t sweet but was juicy.

Kang He replied, “I only went because you were okay with it.”

Fan Jing nodded, agreeing with Kang He’s reasoning.

“Now you can go to their place for mountain goods without worry.”

Kang He shook his head.

“I won’t go to their place or dig their roots unless I have to. Their apology settles things, but that’s it.”

He had decided to cut ties with them moving forward.

Though the Ge family later realized Kang He and Fan Jing’s kindness and wanted to rebuild the relationship, Kang He politely declined their invitations.

When Ge Youquan, recovered, and Cui Cuilan visited and saw no roots had been taken, they understood Kang He’s stance.

They deeply regretted not valuing Kang He and Fan Jing’s kindness earlier.

Though they no longer blamed them, the chance for friendship was lost due to their past pettiness.

But that’s a story for another time.