Chapter 32

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Outside the North Gate of Songjiang City, most of the disaster victims who had rushed from Shandong had gathered here. Initially, when the victims first arrived, the city did not respond, and only those who arrived earlier could enter the city. However, once the city officials discovered these victims, they immediately dispatched soldiers to guard the city gates and prohibited the victims from entering. As a result, within a few short days, thousands of victims were stranded here.

These victims, who had brought their families from afar, had endured coldness and disdain along the way. Many prefectures and counties did not allow them to enter the city, so they had long become accustomed to being turned away. They remained calm, or rather, numb, and did not beg loudly as seen on TV. Instead, they gathered in small groups, chopped down trees outside the city, and lit bonfires. At night, they opened their tattered quilts and huddled together with their families or friends to endure the cold.

Songjiang Prefecture was the last stop for these victims. Beyond it lay the Yangtze River, which they could not cross on foot. Therefore, they were left with only two options: survive in Songjiang or starve to death here.

Fortunately, Xu Shen's father, though not a completely incorruptible official, was a rare good official. With his full support, Songjiang Prefecture quickly decided to provide porridge to the victims. Porridge stalls were set up outside the city, and porridge was distributed twice a day, in the morning and evening. Although the porridge was thin, it could sustain the victims' basic survival needs.

As the porridge distribution continued, the victims finally had something to look forward to. Their previously numb faces began to show smiles, and some even started building wooden shelters as temporary homes. Although these shelters were drafty, they were much warmer than sleeping outdoors. With the first shelter built, more followed, and almost overnight, a refugee camp sprang up outside the North Gate of Songjiang Prefecture.

However, this refugee camp had no planning. The materials used for construction included wood, thatch, and various old clothes and boards, which they somehow found. This made the camp look chaotic and posed significant security issues, with frequent thefts, robberies, and even murders, especially dangerous for young women who were alone.

However, these victims did not fall under the jurisdiction of Songjiang Prefecture, and Xu Zhifu, the prefect, was already preoccupied with securing food supplies, his hair turning white from worry. He had no energy to manage the camp's security. At most, the government would intervene in cases of murder, and if the culprit was found, they would be punished; otherwise, the matter would be dropped.

Every morning at the hour of Chen (7-9 AM), the government distributed porridge. The victims lined up early, forming long queues in front of six porridge stalls. The lines were orderly, with no arguments. This was not because the victims were well-behaved, but because the government had strict rules: anyone who caused a disturbance during the distribution would be expelled from the line and not allowed to receive porridge for two days.

Each victim held a piece of paper, an identity document issued by the government's clerks on their first day of receiving porridge. The document listed the victim's name, gender, physical characteristics, and which porridge stall they should visit. This was to prevent anyone from receiving porridge more than once or fraudulently.

However, today was different. Next to the six porridge stalls, another tent had been set up. Inside, there were no large pots, but rather several large bags, bulging with unknown contents. In the center of the tent was a table, behind which sat an elderly man with white hair and a dignified appearance. He wore a blue cotton robe and exuded an air of authority, inspiring respect at first sight.

Seeing this additional tent, many victims were curious and gathered around. However, when they saw the dignified old man, they stopped in their tracks. His presence clearly indicated that he was no ordinary person, and they dared not approach.

Inside the tent, a few young men who looked like servants were busy. Once they finished organizing the items, one of them stepped out and announced loudly, "Fellow villagers, today is the day our master provides free medical consultations. Not only will there be no consultation fees, but he will also provide free medicine. Please spread the word. If anyone has a sick family member, please bring them for our master to treat!"

"Hum!" Upon hearing that the new tent was for free medical consultations, the victims were immediately filled with gratitude. Some cheered, some thanked loudly, and others ran back to their shelters to bring their sick family members.

In no time, the news of the free medical consultations spread throughout the refugee camp. Some inquisitive people learned that the doctor was not an ordinary person but a gentleman surnamed Wang from Songjiang Prefecture, who had once held a high position in the imperial court. More impressively, Doctor Wang was renowned for his medical skills, outshining many other doctors in the city. Some even called him the best doctor in Songjiang. Many high-ranking officials and wealthy people sought his treatment, willing to pay a high price, but Doctor Wang, who was not in need of money, only treated close friends.

Others learned from Doctor Wang's servants that he had donated 700 taels of silver for the relief efforts, ranking him among the top three donors. Additionally, he was now providing free medical consultations, spending several hundred taels on medicine alone. The victims praised Doctor Wang, calling him a true benefactor and a living bodhisattva.

Sick people soon arrived at the consultation tent. Many of these victims, who had endured the cold and hunger, had lost their strength or were seriously ill. Some had died on the way, while others had managed to survive but were in poor condition. Many could not even stand and had to be carried to the tent.

Doctor Wang, a former official, handled the patients with great efficiency. He instructed his assistants to prioritize the seriously ill, who were carried into the tent first. Most of the remaining patients had caught colds due to the cold weather. He had already prepared a large pot of herbal medicine for colds, which was effective for all types of constitutions, though it took longer to work. This saved Doctor Wang's energy, allowing him to treat more patients.

Doctor Wang's medical skills were indeed remarkable. Regardless of the patient's condition, he could immediately prescribe a treatment after taking their pulse. Some patients even showed significant improvement after his massage, acupuncture, and other treatments. As more patients recovered over the next few days, his reputation as a miraculous doctor was solidified. Within a short time, Doctor Wang became a living god in the eyes of the victims, and even the people of Songjiang Prefecture began to praise his name.

After several busy days, many of the less seriously ill patients had recovered under Doctor Wang's treatment, and those with more severe conditions were gradually improving. They only needed to come to the tent daily to collect their medicine. This allowed Doctor Wang to finally have some free time, spending his days checking on the recovery of his patients and monitoring their progress. With the porridge distribution and the recovery of the victims, new cases were rare.

It was the seventh day of Doctor Wang's free consultations. In the morning, some patients came for treatment, and in the afternoon, only a few stragglers arrived. Doctor Wang was quite relaxed, sitting behind his desk and reading a manuscript. If anyone had been nearby, they would have recognized the manuscript as the first ten chapters of "Journey to the West," which had been widely circulated among the literati of Songjiang Prefecture.

Three days ago, a friend had given Doctor Wang this manuscript. At first, he had scolded the author, Zhou Zhong, for not focusing on his duties. However, once he started reading, he was immediately captivated by the story and became engrossed. Whenever he had free time, he would take out the manuscript and read it carefully. He was almost finished with the first ten chapters, and only a few pages remained.

Time passed quickly, and Doctor Wang soon reached the last page of the tenth chapter. After finishing it, he sighed with regret, saying, "What a good book, truly a good book, but it's a pity there are only ten chapters."

At this point, Doctor Wang's expression changed, and he said angrily, "Zhou Zhong is truly unreasonable. He wrote such a wonderful story but didn't think to send it to me for review. Instead, he had someone else deliver it, and he hasn't even visited my house in so long. What a scoundrel!"

Doctor Wang's anger was understandable, as his relationship with Zhou Zhong was not ordinary. Doctor Wang's real name was Wang Lun, Zhou Zhong's future father-in-law. He had once been a high-ranking official, the Left Deputy Censor of the Ming Dynasty's Censorate, a position of the third rank, second only to the two chief censors. However, he had been dismissed from office for speaking out against Liu Jin, the leader of the Eight Tigers, who controlled the court.

Although he had been dismissed, Doctor Wang still enjoyed a high reputation in the court, and many of his close friends remained in office. Therefore, Wang Lun still had significant influence among the literati. For example, Xu Shen's father, Xu Zhifu, was a close friend of Wang Lun, and they often drank tea and played chess together. Wang Lun's decision to provide free medical consultations was partly due to Xu Zhifu's request.

The Zhou family's debts had been paid off, and the house they lived in belonged to Wang Lun. As a son-in-law, Zhou Zhong should have found time to visit Wang Lun, but he had been busy writing and had forgotten. Xu's steward had also forgotten to remind him, so Zhou Zhong had not yet met his future father-in-law, which was why Wang Lun was angry.

However, just as Wang Lun was scolding Zhou Zhong, a voice from outside the tent laughed loudly, "Uncle Wang, why are you so angry? Who has the nerve to upset you?"