The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 15 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Reassignment

Specifically, it turned out, Maomao was being moved to another office. Her new workplace was the largest medicine-storage area in the palace. When she got there, she found others who had been reassigned as well-mostly the ones she expected.

"I haven't seen you since ... yesterday," she said.

"No, not since yesterday."

The other new faces were the three people who looked after the supplies, just like Maomao did: Tall Senior, Short Senior, and Middle- Height Peer.

"I was so sure I'd failed," Middle-Height Peer said with some amazement. Luomen had criticized his preparation of the medicine during the test the day before.

At exactly the time stipulated on their orders, Luomen walked into the room. An assistant came beside him, which was at least a sign that they were taking care of him.

"Now then, you're the ones who passed yesterday's test. We're going to have you get right to work." He set down a formula for a medicine.

"For now, I'd like you to make some of this."

With that, Maomao and the others found themselves furiously mixing herbs together for the next several days.

Grind, grind griiind, thought Maomao. She'd spent so many days mixing medicine that she thought she was going to get calluses from the mortar and pestle.

I mean, it's okay. I'm having a good time.

The exact composition of what Maomao and the others were being asked to make changed sometimes, but all of the recipes used roughly the same components: antiseptics, drugs to make the blood flow better, and anti-inflammatory agents.

I do wish we could work on a wider variety. That was just her personal desire, however, so she kept it to herself.

"What in the world do you think we're making?" asked the doctor of average height. He was still young, not much different from Maomao. A few years past twenty, she guessed. He seemed to be from Tianyu's intake; she sometimes saw them talking together.

"Various ratios of rhubarb root and mu dan pi," said one of the others. A medicine that would promote blood flow.

Luomen acted as teacher and guide to the three physicians and Maomao; today, he would be coming after stopping by the rear palace's medical office.

"What's the other stuff?" asked Middle-Height Peer, who knew the least of any of them, but was at least proactive about it.

"Licorice and garden peony-it must be a decoction of the two," answered Tall Senior, the taller of the two seniors. Typically, Tall Senior would go out of his way to answer questions, while the more vertically challenged Short Senior would only offer an opinion if something annoyed him.

"I agree," Maomao said. "It's a drug to suppress muscle spasms."

"And pain. It helps with back and abdominal pain," snapped Short Senior.

"When a patient's abdomen hurts, it can be used to help figure out exactly where the pain is," Tall Senior explained.

I thought it had circulatory applications, but it's a digestive drug?

A draught of rhubarb root and mu dan pi could be helpful in cases of constipation or stomachache and was frequently dispensed to women, as it also helped regulate periods.

Wonder what disease this is? Maomao thought, but she figured that when they saw the patients who were going to take the drug, they would find out.

Meanwhile, Luomen, of course, would not miss this opportunity to help them learn to think for themselves.

No sooner had Luomen finally shown up than he said, "We'll go to deliver the medicine now. Everyone come with me." There was a carriage waiting outside; clearly, they were expected to do as they were told.

They rode along for thirty minutes, until they arrived at a mansion on the outskirts of the capital. Well, a big house, anyway; it wasn't really elaborate enough to be called a mansion. It was situated in a residential area, but surrounded by gardens so that no one could see inside.

"Bring the cargo," Luomen said, and the three physicians did so. There wasn't that much of it, so Maomao stood with Luomen and helped him to walk. Evidently his assistant wasn't with him at all times.

Don't mind us, she thought as she came into the house.

The moment she entered, she caught the distinct aroma of medicine. A man wearing a white apron came out to meet them. "I've been waiting for you," he said.

"I've brought the medicine, along with some helpers. I have to explain to them what's going on, so please, go back to your work."

"Yes, sir," the man said and went away.

"Helpers?" Maomao asked. What does that mean?"

"Just what you think. Or don't you wish to look after patients?"

"That's not what I meant," she said, unsure how she should have asked the question.

Maybe I should have asked why we're doing this ... or who for. She wasn't sure if it was safe to ask that, however, so she just followed Luomen.

Far inside the house was a room full of cots. The patients were all men, ranging from their teens into their forties. Folding screens had been set up between the beds to give a modicum of privacy. There must have been nurses or caretakers of some kind, because the bedding and the nightclothes the men wore looked clean.

Their pallor is poor, and there are buckets by the bed. Vomiting?

The patients appeared to come from all walks of life. The ones with gnarled hands and legs and tanned skin might be farmers. The ones with knobs on their fingers, maybe scribes. They didn't seem to have any one thing in common except for their gender.

But then, they're all taking part in a medical trial.

It meant they weren't exactly affluent.

There were other people walking around in white aprons-medical personnel, perhaps.

"We brought the medicine," Luomen said to one of the men who looked like staff.

"Thank you very much."

"Since we're here, I thought we might check the stores. All right with you?" Luomen asked.

"Yes, please. If you'd be so kind," the man replied.

Luomen led Maomao and the others to the place where the medical supplies were kept, next to the galley. Two medicine cabinets sat there, still new.

"I'll parcel out the medicine. Would you hand it to me?" Luomen asked.

"Yes, sir."

The medicine was already in paper packets divided into single doses. Luomen proceeded to put them smartly into the cabinet drawers.

Not much for us to do, Maomao thought. The three physicians didn't foist any random chores on her, so it was all too easy for her to find herself with time to kill. She filled some of it by taking a good look around.

The place looked like it had been an ordinary residence that had been hurriedly converted into a clinic. It was full of familiar tools: mortars and pestles, sifters and dispensing spoons.

Are they making medicine here too? Maomao sniffed. It doesn't smell much like medicine. It smells ... almost sweet.

Still sniffing, she stepped down to the area where the floor was made of exposed dirt. She saw a stove, on top of which sat a pot with dark, viscous liquid inside.

Refined honey?

This was honey with the water removed, and it would be formed into pills-except that she didn't see any of the herbs with which it would normally be mixed. Instead she saw wheat flour and buckwheat flour, perfectly ordinary baking supplies.

"Buckwheat flour ... "

Maomao stepped gingerly away from the bag full of flour and put a handkerchief over her nose. She had difficulty breathing whenever she ate something with buckwheat in it; she certainly didn't want to inhale the stuff.

"Maomao! Don't go fiddling with things. Come back over here," Luomen said.

"Yes, sir," Maomao answered. Her father sounded a touch panicked, maybe because he knew there was buckwheat flour around. When he saw the handkerchief over her mouth, his face showed that he realized he was too late.

There were a lot of other odd things as well. For example, the two medicine cabinets had exactly the same shape and arrangement. Each had the names of the medicines written on the drawers, but every drawer in both cabinets appeared to contain exactly the same things.

So why would they bother to have two cabinets?

Just as Maomao was wondering about this, one of the men in an apron came up.

"It's almost time to give them their medicine," he said.

"Of course; I see," Luomen replied and stepped away from the cabinets. The man took five doses of the medicine they had just replenished. Then he took five more from the other cabinet-of exactly the same thing.

Maomao wasn't the only one who found this strange. "Dr. Kan," said Tall Senior, raising his hand. "May I inspect the contents of the other cabinet?"

"Go ahead," Luomen said.

With his approval, Tall Senior took a packet from the second cabinet and opened it. Maomao and the other physicians crowded around to look.

"You keep your distance, Maomao," Luomen said, and she backed off. The pills in the packet were of a brown color; if she squinted, she could see black specks in them. "Is that ... buckwheat flour?" she asked.

"One presumes that's one of the ingredients."

The pill was made of wheat and buckwheat flours and dyed to make it look like medicine-but it wasn't.

"So this cabinet has fake medicine that doesn't do anything?" Middle-Height Peer said in some distress.

"Keep your voice down," Luomen warned him.

"But sir! Why would you do such a thing ?! "

"Think it through and see if you can't tell me."

When Luomen told you to think, there was nothing for you to do but think. He only gave questions that could be answered, with enough consideration. If you couldn't come up with the response, it only meant that you had missed some information somewhere.

Earlier, that man took five packets out of each cabinet. There are ten patients, which means the medicine is being divided in half.

The patients were shown a certain level of hospitality while being treated here. They were probably getting decent food, for one thing.

You make sure everyone is in the same environment to judge the effect of the medicine.

It was always possible that the medicine wasn't what was helping, but simply being in a clean environment and getting proper nutrition.

In that case, you couldn't always be sure the medicine was working, and that was no good. So it was necessary to prepare two separate groups.

"You've figured it out, Maomao?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what do you think?"

The three physicians all turned to hear her answer.

"I think you've divided them into two groups to ascertain the effect of the medicine while ruling out the effect of changes in environment or diet. You want to see if people in the same environment with the same illness will show different results based on whether they receive medicine or not."

Luomen was smiling, but he didn't look quite convinced.

"Further, the reason you deliberately prepared some medicine that will presumably work and some placebos is-"

"Thank you, that's enough. There's someone else who looks like they can give us an answer. Let's hear it from them."

Maomao looked over, feeling a touch of mental indigestion. Short Senior was looking especially engaged.

"It's in order to equalize not just their basic needs, but their feelings as well," he said. "It's said that illness begins with the spirit, but so can medicine. The relief provided by the sense that they're taking medicine can lead a patient to feel that they've been cured."

"Correct. Strangely enough, the very feeling that one is taking medicine can cause the body to produce the illusion that the medicine is working. These pills are to help account for that." Luomen picked up one of the fake pills. It was quite a piece of work, designed so that even the color was believable. "In addition to your usual production of medicine, I want you to take it in shifts to record the condition of the patients here. Is that all right?"

"Yes, sir," Maomao and the others answered in unison.

At least we finally know what we'll be doing, she thought. But she still hadn't had a chance to ask why.