“Of course,” the middle-aged woman replied.
He then took a piece of wood from a corner of the room and whipped out a carving knife. He whittled away at it proficiently, shaping it in a way that would accommodate her little arm perfectly. He then carved an opposite piece and placed it around her arm with padding and bandages and wrapped it with cloth and hung it off her neck as a sling.
“You’ll need to come back in two weeks for me to check how the bone is healing,” he instructed. “Now, let’s take a look at that cut on your forehead.” He spent a short while applying a salve to various cuts on her body. Fortunately, the gash on her forehead didn’t warrant stitches. After the treatment, he placed a glob of salve in a container and instructed her mother on its use.
“You’ll need to apply this twice per day for the next three days,” he said. “The cuts should heal well on their own. If the area around them gets very red or white, bring her back, as the wound may have gotten infected.”
The mother and child soon left, leaving a basket full of freshly baked bread and another basket full of bandages. Her husband was a baker, while she herself weaved cloth. Cha Ming collected the cloth, and after inspecting it, put it in a pile which would be laundered with chemicals for disinfection.
“Good job, young lad,” Li Yin said from behind his desk. He was currently writing a program for his upcoming educational sessions. “In a few more weeks, the villagers will begin to trust you, and I’ll be able to leave you to treat them on your own while I’m out of the office.”
Cha Ming nodded and began cleaning up the area. Shortly after he finished, the door burst open, and a young boy ran in, gasping for breath.
“Doctor!” the boy said. “You need to hurry. Mother is having her baby, and it’s not going well!”
Li Yin frowned. “Isn’t the midwife there? She’s much more experienced than I am in these matters.”
“She is,” the boy replied. “But she told me to come get you as soon as possible.”
The doctor nodded and got up quickly, grabbing a portable medical kit before heading toward the door.
“Come along, Cha Ming,” he said. “Things aren’t so simple if Madame Su can’t handle it.”
They followed the boy for a half mile before arriving at a newly built house. The boy’s father was a carpenter, and he’d just built the house to accommodate their growing family.
Two little girls greeted them when they arrived, along with a man who was extremely worried and panicking.
“Where is Madame Liao?” Li Yin asked. His authoritative voice snapped the man back to reality. He quickly led them to a small room on the ground floor.
They heard weak panting as they walked in. An older woman frowned when she saw Cha Ming. “Should he be here?”
The doctor nodded. “He is my assistant, and I may require him during the process. You know I won’t always be around to take care of everything.” The woman relented and allowed Cha Ming near the bed.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked while touching the woman’s belly.
“She’s been in labor for eight hours, and she hasn’t progressed much,” she replied softly, clearly to avoid alarming the mother. “She’s almost out of energy, and I don’t know what to do anymore. When I feel where the baby is, I can only feel his shoulder. If that was all, I wouldn’t have called you. However, this labor is unreasonably difficult. If it lasts any longer, neither she nor the baby will make it.”
The doctor frowned when he directed his spiritual force toward the woman’s stomach. He continued examining for just over sixty breaths before stopping. His complexion was pale, and his forehead was covered in beads of sweat.
“Cha Ming, get over here and take a look,” he said to Cha Ming, who walked past the older woman. “I need to you to examine the position of the baby, his size, and the position of the umbilical cord. I can’t make out these details exactly with my weak spiritual force, so I need your help.”
Cha Ming didn’t waste time and immediately projected his spiritual force into the woman’s body. He felt a small resistance, a person’s natural spiritual defenses, but pushed through regardless. Inside the woman’s womb, he saw a small, curled-up baby. His shoulder was impinging at an awkward angle, making it difficult for the baby to come through. It seemed like forcing it through would break its neck in the process.
“The baby is at an awkward angle; his shoulder is coming out first,” he reported to the doctor. “He won’t be able to come out unless this is readjusted. Furthermore, his size is approximately twelve and a half jin, much larger than average. To make matters worse, his umbilical cord is bundled up in such a position that makes readjusting the baby’s position extremely difficult. I can sense that her energy stores are only sufficient for fifteen more minutes of active labor.”
The doctor shook his head. “Too tricky. I’m not sure what to do, Cha Ming. This is beyond my current knowledge.”
Seeing the doctor’s mournful expression, Cha Ming recalled a procedure from back on Earth.
“Can we talk in another room?” Cha Ming asked the doctor, who could only shake his head and follow.
Once they were outside the room, Cha Ming asked, “Have you ever removed a baby from a mother by cutting her open1?”
The doctor looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ve heard of this procedure being utilized before. However, it is almost always performed as a last-ditch effort. I’ve gathered some oral case histories that show that in nine tenths of cases, the mother dies. Even then, the baby’s life is not guaranteed. It’s unfortunate that we don’t have a healer, because with a healer, the odds would be reversed to a nine-tenths success rate. I have also never performed such a surgery personally.”
“Don’t you think that we’ve gained sufficient ground in sterilization and disinfection to make it possible?” Cha Ming pressed. “If we don’t do something, the mother will die very soon. Furthermore, if we’re performing the procedure on purpose, she won’t be completely exhausted and will have a better chance of surviving the procedure.”
The doctor looked in the direction of the other room and sighed. “We can try. Have them prepare a constant supply of boiling water for disinfection, wash your hands, and prepare to assist me.”
Soon enough, with the help of the midwife, they cleaned the woman’s belly. She was delirious as they had fed her general anesthetic herbs and numbed the area where they planned to operate with a local anesthetic paste.
Cha Ming carefully poured boiling water over the freshly polished steel instruments. He then stood to the side and awaited Dr. Li’s instructions.
“Scalpel,” Dr. Li said. Cha Ming handed him the sharp instrument. Li Yin, using a combination of his knowledge of anatomy and his weak spiritual force, carefully cut a curved flap.
“Pincers,” he commanded. Cha Ming immediately used these pincers to pull the flap back, exposing a bloodied placenta within her womb. A baby was struggling inside and trying to squirm his way out with no success.
Cha Ming watched as Li Yin carefully cut a thin incision on the placenta, then using his carefully shaved bare hands, pulled out a baby, who immediately started crying. The midwife rapidly wrapped the crying baby in a warm blanket, but Li Yin paid no attention to this. Instead, he quickly scooped up the remaining placenta and laid it out on an empty pan. Then, Cha Ming closed the flap at his instruction.
While one hand kept the flap closed, he used another to grab a second set of pliers, which he used to pinch one end of the cut closed. Li Yin moved quickly as he sewed the wound shut with a freshly sterilized needle and clean silk thread. Finally, after fifteen minutes, their gruesome task was complete. They carefully washed the wound with cloths dipped in boiling water, and Cha Ming fetched an ointment that prevented bleeding and disinfected wounds. He then took out a clean dressing, which he used to cover her wound.
“What now?” Cha Ming asked.
“Now?” the doctor mused. “Now we pray.” He then handed a bottle of p
ills to the midwife to feed to the mother at four-hour intervals to help with the pain.
Six weeks flew by.
Cha Ming walked into a bedroom, where he was greeted by the cries of an angry baby. He was hungry, which was understandable, given the mother’s unfortunate condition.
For some reason, her milk had given out a few days prior. Aside from that, she was perfectly healthy. The wound on her stomach had healed over properly, and she was now the proud mother of four children.
Cha Ming had followed up on the procedure all that time, inspecting the wound and changing the dressings. Naturally, the whole town knew that performing the surgery was his idea. The old doctor held nothing but praise for him, and he rapidly gained the trust of the people in the village. They no longer looked at him as an outsider; rather, he was now an integral part of their small town.
As usual, the mother handed him the child as she went to warm some goat’s milk for the baby. Warmth filled him as he played with the infant, who smiled whenever he saw him. Soon enough, the mother returned with a small cup that facilitated dropping milk into the baby’s mouth. Cha Ming inspected her wound as she laid down and fed the baby.
“The wound has completely healed,” Cha Ming said, smiling. “I won’t need to come check up on it any longer, but you should take it easy for the next few weeks as you adapt to moving around. Bed rest is no longer required.”
Madame Liao smiled as she continued feeding her baby. “You’ll come visit Lin Ming every once in a while, won’t you?”
“Of course,” he replied with a grin on his face. “Besides, you should bring him in every two months or so for a checkup. We’ll be seeing each other often.”
* * *
1 Caesarian sections are older than people might think. Although it is named after Julius Caesar, there is considerable evidence that this procedure was used in both Western and Eastern cultures as a last-ditch effort to save the baby. Of course, the mother’s life was no longer a priority, as this procedure was usually used only when the mother had already died or was clearly dying.
Chapter 11: A Kinder Way
A fresh breeze swept through the air, blowing leaves across the rocky ground in the middle of a mountain valley. It was fall, and while not much vegetation grew on the desolate mountain trail, there was still enough grass to feed Gong Lan’s and Gong Wuling’s horses as they advanced.
Gong Lan’s hair had grown several inches since they’d left. Their moderate pace was only interrupted for meals and rest. It was difficult to sleep, however. The wind raged frequently in this mountain valley, and the changing seasons did little to alleviate this.
Her brother seemed unfazed by the wind. He always led the way and often used his qi to dispel intense blasts that swept against them. The mountain pass was narrow, and any slight misstep would spell certain doom.
They continued for several hours that day, only stopping once night fell. Fortunately, they found a cave in the side of the mountain where they could take shelter. A group of adventurers had left a pile of wood there. This was a common act of goodwill. Those who arrived with extra firewood would leave some, and those who were short would thankfully burn what others had left. Life as an adventurer was difficult enough without people being at odds with one another.
Soon enough, a fire was crackling. Gong Wuling always carried a special spirit weapon: a small piece of wood that absorbed fire and released it when required. This piece of wood would never burn; rather, it could be used to modify the intensity of a fire. It could even extinguish it on command.
Gong Lan sat in silence as she munched on a strip of dried meat and drank some water they had collected from a stream a few days back. She looked at her brother, who meditated in silence while recuperating his energy. He didn’t eat; advancing from Qi Condensation to Foundation Establishment was a qualitative change. Those who advanced would notice their need to eat plummet, as the energy of heaven and earth they absorbed left them satiated with little need for external sustenance.
After a few hours, Gong Wuling opened his eyes and glanced at Gong Lan, who had yet to fall asleep.
“We’ll arrive at our destination tomorrow morning,” he whispered. “I’m confident that you’ll find the help you need there.”
While Gong Lan was skeptical, she noticed that he began fiddling around with a locket hanging from his neck. The locket was golden and shaped like a buddha. She had never noticed it until now.
“Where did you get that locket?” Gong Lan asked.
Her brother chuckled. “I got it here, many years ago. It’s what keeps my heart calm and allows me to make good decisions. Without it, I would likely have lost myself to bloodlust. Perhaps you will get one at the peak of the mountain. Or perhaps Teacher will have something else in mind.”
Gong Lan was surprised. This was the first time her brother had ever mentioned a teacher to her. In addition, she had never expected that her brother relied on external means in the form of a locket. She had always assumed that he endured through sheer willpower.
“Not everyone is strong enough to handle things by themselves,” he said quietly. “Most people can’t, in fact. Humans are social creatures. They rely on friends, family, teachers, and even adversaries to maintain their mental state. There is no need to feel ashamed in seeking help. I did it before, and now you will do the same.”
Gong Lan thought deeply as she observed the flickering flames of their dying fire. Every person in existence relied on someone else to get to where they are. Even the most primitive savage relied on his parents and his tribe for food before becoming independent. No matter how self-sufficient he was later on, the initial help he received was what determined his life, his fate.
In a sense, those who accomplished great things received more help than anyone else. They were the children of destiny, and the gifts they received were simply advance payment for everything they would accomplish in their lifetime.
How great it would be to be one of those helpers, to enable others to accomplish great things. Not everyone desired to be a hero. Some people, like Gong Lan, just want to help.
The last leg of their journey proved to be the most difficult. Not only was the trail steep and unforgiving, but a thin layer of snow had fallen the night before. It might have been the first snow of the season, yet it continued to fall as they followed the trail, like a final trial set for them before they reached their destination.
Gong Lan shivered as she rode her horse, following her brother’s lead. They stopped every few hundred feet in order to let their horses recover to peak condition before continuing. This continued for a few hours of travel until they reached a flat plot of land, where two buildings stood. Gong Lan hopped off her horse at her brother’s insistence, and they both approached the smaller shack.
Before they had a chance to knock on the door, it opened and revealed a young boy that couldn’t be older than ten years old. He smiled before holding his hands together in prayer, bowing. “This lowly one greets you, benefactors. Are you here to worship at the temple?”
Temple? Gong Lan thought.
“Yes, we’re here to see the master,” Gong Wuling said after bowing in return. “Is it all right if we leave these horses under your care?”
The monk walked out with a smile on his face and ignored the reins being passed to him. “There is no need for these things,” the boy said gently. “These horses will follow me because they enjoy my company and know that I only want to help them and feed them. Any restraining devices are unnecessary.”
As though to confirm his words, the horses trotted along and followed him into a barn, where hay and grain was laid out for them. They drank deeply from a small well in the barn, and to Gong Lan’s amazement, the water in the well never seemed to diminish.
“Many thanks,” Wuling said and bowed in appreciation.
“No thanks necessary,” the young monk said. He then sat down beside the horses and began chanting soothing mantras.
They left the monk and
the horses behind them and began climbing the largest flight of stars Gong Lan had ever seen. The steps were twenty feet wide, and they seemed to continue without end.
Just how tall is this mountain? she thought.
“The mountain isn’t as tall as you think,” her brother said cheerfully. “These steps are called the Stairway to Heaven. For those with little hope and faith in their hearts, they appear to stretch out to infinity. For those who believe, they seem rather short. Regardless of what you see, the number of steps has already been determined. Why don’t you count them and see for yourself?”
Gong Lan was startled, but fortunately, she had already begun counting them to relieve her boredom. Thirty-three steps. How could these steps possibly work like he says? Is it all just an illusion?
She gritted her teeth as she counted and climbed. If she was on her own, she would already have turned back. Was it a defense mechanism or merely a reflection of her heart? Was it to protect this temple from her, or was it simply for her own sake that she experienced this long climb?
586, 587, 588…
She counted as she climbed, and soon she forgot where she was. It was simply a counting game, and she moved her feet to help her count. Darkness surrounded her, and still she counted, a light in the distance growing closer and closer.
877, 888, 889…
Soon, the light became blinding. However, she couldn’t help but continue counting. And as she counted, the light began to envelop her. It warmed her and comforted her.
1079, 1080, 10811.
As soon as she took the 1081st step, the light and the darkness disappeared. They were replaced by her brother, who was looking at her curiously. He was seated on a bench at the peak of the mountain.
Instead of the bleak plateau that she expected, she was greeted by a lush tropical monastery. The main temple was small and unadorned, built purely out of white stone. Several smaller buildings accompanied it, and many jungle trees grew everywhere around the plateau. Birds flew around as though unaffected by the impending winter. Gong Lan wondered if winter would even touch such a paradise.
Light in the Darkness Page 11