Chapter 12 — The Medicine Bearer Through the Chaos

The Boy at the Banyan Tree in Co Lam

Three days later, when the trail along the Ngan Khe River led Tinh Yen near a cluster of dense forests, he heard a faint cough coming from behind a bush along the roadside. He stopped, searched through the leaves, and discovered a boy about seven or eight years old lying curled up under an old banyan tree, his clothes torn, his body skinny, his face smeared with mud and dried blood from scratches on his limbs.

"Hey, honey, are you okay?" Tinh Yen knelt down and gently shook the boy's shoulder.

The boy's eyes opened, staring blankly for a moment, then closed, leaving only the sound of weak wheezing coming from his thin chest. Tinh Yen quickly checked her pulse, touched her forehead - hot, high fever - then checked her whole body for injuries. Aside from minor scratches, no serious damage was found, but the exhaustion from starvation and prolonged high fever was clearly threatening the boy's life.

"Honey, did you hear me? What's your name? Where are your parents?"

The boy didn't respond, just moaned softly. Tinh Yen looked around, not seeing any adults nearby - perhaps the boy had lost his family in the chaotic refugee flow, or worse, his family had no survivors. That scene made his heart ache, remembering himself nearly two months ago, standing alone on a strange beach, not knowing where to go.

It did not hesitate and immediately began to cure. First is to reduce the fever - he found water in a small stream nearby, tore a piece of cloth from his old shirt to use as a towel to wipe the boy's body, and at the same time searched the medicine bag to find leftover ingredients that could be mixed into a cool-down drink. Its stores were nearly depleted after weeks of wandering, leaving only a few precious dried herbs that it had managed to keep for the most urgent of emergencies—and this was clearly one of them.

After the fever was somewhat reduced, he carried the boy on his back and made his way to the nearest human place. Luckily, after only going about half a mile further, he discovered a small pagoda hidden in the middle of the forest, with a mossy tiled roof and old but still solid brick walls - Co Lam Pagoda, as recorded on the faded wooden sign in front of the gate.

In the temple yard, a few refugees are staying temporarily, sitting huddled under the awning to avoid the sun. Tinh Yen quickly ran over, her voice urgent.

"Please help me, this boy has a very high fever. I need clean water and a place for him to rest!"

A woman among the refugees quickly ran out to help the boy, leading Tinh Yen to an empty corner of the temple porch. He laid the boy down and continued the work of reducing the fever, this time with the help of a few people around him bringing water and mats to help.

While he was busy, a deep but powerful voice rang out from behind him.

"Let me see."

Tinh Yen turned around and saw a middle-aged monk, his robes discolored by the wind and dew, carrying a large cloth bag that probably contained medicinal herbs, standing and looking at the boy with the sharp eyes of a true professional. He knelt down next to him, without his permission, felt the boy's pulse with skillful fingers, turned his eyelids to see, and then nodded.

"How did you get your fever down?"

"Yes, I wiped my body with cool water at the major pulse points, and also gave her a little water decoction made from sand can and rose water, that's what I still kept in my pocket." Tinh Yen replied, a bit confused by the monk's sudden appearance, but still maintained the necessary calmness when there was a patient in need of care.

The monk raised his eyebrows and looked at it with an evaluative look that was completely different from his initial indifferent attitude. "Ganh can reduces fever and relieves muscle pain, and use lake to clear heat and relieve exudate - the right combination for high fever caused by extrasensory perception and weakness. Who did you learn medicine from?"

"Yes, from my grandmother. My grandmother was a physician in Lach Dua village, but she passed away, and my village was also burned by pirates." Tinh Yen replied, her voice a bit choked even though she tried to keep it normal.

The monk was silent for a moment, his eyes flashed with something hard to name - perhaps sympathy, perhaps a personal memory he did not want to recall. He did not ask further, just turned to continue examining the boy's condition, personally mixed another medicine from his cloth bag, and poured small spoonfuls into the unconscious child's mouth.

"This boy, in addition to having a fever, is also severely malnourished. His body is almost exhausted. We must feed him slowly. We must not feed him too much at once or his stomach cannot handle it." He spoke and explained as he did so as if he were teaching a student, even though he had never recognized Tinh Yen as his student. "Can you stay here and help me take care of him tonight?"

"Okay." Tinh Yen responded immediately without hesitation.

Near midnight, the boy's fever returned, his body convulsed slightly, causing both of them to frantically deal with it. The monk quickly pressed the philtrum acupressure point, and Tinh Yen immediately dipped a towel to wipe her body according to what Mrs. Khue had taught years ago. The two of them coordinated incredibly well, as if they had worked together many times before, even though this was only their first meeting.

"You caught the acupuncture point correctly." The monk commented when the convulsions had subsided, his eyes could not hide the mixture of surprise and appreciation. "Who taught you how to press your philtrum when you have a seizure?"

"My grandmother. She said to remember the correct position, because a little deviation won't help, it will only make the patient feel more pain." Tinh Yen replied, her hand still continuing to wipe the boy's body.

"Your grandmother taught you carefully." The monk nodded, his voice somewhat pensive. "Not all traditional medicine men in the countryside pay that much attention to precision. Most just learn a few recipes, do their best based on word-of-mouth experience, right and wrong are just luck."

"My grandmother always said that taking risks is a sin against the patient." Tinh Yen smiled slightly when talking about her, even though the corners of her eyes were still stinging. "Grandma taught me, it's better to be slow and steady, than to be fast and harm others."

The monk did not respond immediately, just silently looked at the girl in front of him for a long time, his eyes as if he was considering something more important than saving the boy lying between them. Throughout that night, the two people took turns staying by the boy's side, monitoring every little change in the fever, giving him medicine and water on time. During that time, Tinh Yen had the opportunity to observe the way the monk worked - the meticulousness and precision in every movement, absolute calmness even when the patient's condition suddenly became worse, and above all, a look that was always gentle but deep as if it contained an ocean of things he had experienced that he had never told anyone.

"Teacher," Tinh Yen timidly spoke up in the early morning, when the boy's fever had finally dropped to a safe level, "are you a medicine man? Why are you here, in the middle of the forest?"

The monk looked out at the dark temple yard, where a few flickering oil lamps were still burning where refugee families were sleeping, his voice lowered as if he was reminiscing about something far away.

"I go everywhere, stop wherever I need it, heal until no one needs it anymore, then keep going." He replied, not directly answering the question about his background. "In these chaotic times, people need doctors more than ever, and there is always a shortage of doctors. We cannot stay in one place when we know there are people out there waiting to die because there is no one to save them."

Tinh Yen nodded, feeling a deep sympathy arise in her heart for this strange man - a sympathy that she had never felt for anyone since the day she left Lach Dua.

"Me too." It spoke softly. "I'm also looking... I don't know exactly what I'm looking for, I just know I want to learn more, I want to be better, so I don't have to helplessly watch people die like I did."

The monk turned to look at her, his eyes in the dim darkness of the oil lamp shining with an indescribable light - as if he had just seen something in this girl that made him rethink what he intended to do next on his journey.

"What's your name?"

"Yes, I am Do Tinh Yen."

"Tinh Yen." He repeated the name, nodding as if pondering something important. "Tomorrow morning, when this boy is more alert, I have a question to ask you. Now rest, you also need to regain your strength."

Tinh Yen nodded, although her heart was full of questions about that mysterious question, sleepiness after a long night pulled her eyelids down. He leaned his back against the temple porch pillar, looked at the crescent moon slowly setting behind the ancient trees, and fell asleep in a strange feeling - for the first time since the night the village burned, he felt like he was no longer completely alone on the road ahead.