Chapter 5 — The Medicine Bearer Through the Chaos

Phu Thanh Duong Market

Two years after the twelve young men left the village, Tinh Yen was thirteen years old, almost as tall as Mrs. Khue's shoulders, and his hands were now so proficient in basic acupuncture that she trusted him to give him self-examination and self-medication under remote supervision. That morning, the two of them got up earlier than usual, preparing their baskets full of dried medicinal herbs to bring to Thanh Duong district - where there was the largest market in the region, and was also the only place that sells precious medicinal herbs that Lach Dua waters did not have, such as royal lotus, Panax notoginseng, or perennial cymbidium.

The way out took half a day of walking, passing through white salt fields under the sun, passing through small roadside markets where people were used to seeing groups of refugees sitting on the side of the road, holding the little bundles of belongings left after their escape. Tinh Yen was no longer surprised by that scene like two years ago - she was used to it, although that familiarity did not make her heart harden, on the contrary, every time she saw it, she felt a pang of another dull sadness.

"Grandma, can I stop by and give them something?" He asked as he passed by a family huddled under the shade of an old banyan tree, the youngest child was crying because of hunger.

Mrs. Khue stopped, opened her bag, took out some rice cakes to eat along the way, and gave them to her mother. "Here, eat now to relieve your hunger. The way to the palace is still far, try to go."

The mother bowed her head profusely in gratitude. Tinh Yen looked at that scene, a question arose in her heart that she had never dared to ask directly: how long would the war on the border last, and how many more families would have to leave their homes like that.

Thanh Duong Palace appeared after a turn, the low city wall surrounded the crowded market, the city gate had guards standing at attention, long spears erect, eyes scanning each person entering and exiting. Compared to Lach Dua village, this place is much more bustling - the sound of selling goods, the sound of bargaining, the sound of bullock carts on the paved road, the smell of fried food mixed with the smell of traditional Chinese medicine from the medicinal stalls close together.

The two of them went to the familiar stall of an old pharmacist affectionately known as Mr. Do Hac, who had been doing business with Mrs. Khue's family for three generations. He welcomed her warmly, weighed and traded medicinal herbs, and chatted excitedly about the war situation - news in the government was always quicker than in remote villages.

"Has the healer heard any news?" Mr. Do Hac lowered his voice, even though no one around was paying attention. "I heard that Long Mon pass on the northern border has been surrounded for several months, and our army has had a hard time holding out."

"What pass is Long Mon?" Mrs. Khue asked, her hands still quickly sorting each bundle of medicinal herbs.

"The most important gate on the Northern border, guarded by the Tran Bac Hau family from generation to generation. It is said that this year the North Dich army has attacked with an unprecedented force, probably wanting to break through the defense line to flood the lowlands." Mr. Do Hac shook his head, his voice full of worry. "It's becoming more and more difficult to move grain to the border, and the price of rice in the government has increased one and a half times compared to last year."

Tinh Yen stood listening, unfamiliar names like "Long Mon Pass" and "Tran Bac Hau" passed through her ears like the sounds of another world, a world she had never touched and probably would never reach. He could not have known that just a few years later, that very name "Long Mon" would become the fateful place of his entire life.

After exchanging medicinal herbs, Mrs. Khue took her grandson across the government's public road area to pay the annual salt tax - a small but mandatory amount for families working in sea-related professions. There, they met Tri Phu Cao Ba Doan, a plump middle-aged man, neatly dressed in brocade, sitting on a high chair handling work with a cold, indifferent expression.

"Your Excellency, I am a resident of Lach Dua village, here to pay the salt tax." The person standing in front of Tinh Yen and Mrs. Khue - an old fisherman - bowed, his voice trembling. "I begged the mandarin for some alms. This year the sea is very rough, I can't catch much, and I have to contribute more food and grass to feed the army..."

"Begging for something?" Cao Ba Doan waved his hand, his voice annoyed. "Every village's rules are the same, every family is in difficulty. Shouldn't I exempt you only? If you don't pay enough, then leave your son to work for the government to clear the debt."

The old fisherman bowed his head, not daring to argue any further, clumsily rummaging through his pockets to collect every single coin and bring it up. Tinh Yen stood looking at that scene, a feeling of dissatisfaction rose in her heart but she did not dare to say anything, just tightened her grip on Mrs. Khue's sleeve.

When it was the grandparents' turn, Cao Ba Doan glanced through the books, his voice still indifferent. "Herbal Khue in Lach Dua village. Are there any difficulties this year?"

"Your Majesty, no." Mrs. Khue replied briefly, placing the exact amount of silver on the table, neither too much nor too little.

Cao Ba Doan nodded, took notes, did not say another word, his eyes moved to the next person in line before Mrs. Khue could turn her back. Leaving the public street, Tinh Yen dared to breathe a sigh of relief, looking back at that majestic building with eyes mixed with fear and discomfort.

"Madam, why is that mandarin so cold? That fisherman is so miserable but he doesn't pity him."

Mrs. Khue sighed and pulled her grandson along faster to avoid standing too long in front of the street. "There are good and bad officials, my child. But even those who are not necessarily bad, sometimes because of fear of responsibility, fear of losing their positions, they also turn out to be insensitive to the suffering of the people. That is one of the scariest things I have ever seen - not obvious evil, but indifference hiding behind the name of following the rules."

Those words made Tinh Yen pensive the rest of the way to the palace. He began to realize that the world was not only divided into good people and bad people like the fairy tales her grandmother used to tell him when he was young, but that there was also a large gray area in the middle, where people did harmful things not out of malice, but out of fear, out of avoidance, out of ego wanting to be left alone.

Before leaving the palace, they stopped by Mr. Do Hac's stall one more time to pick up the remaining medicinal herbs. While Mrs. Khue was engrossed in bargaining for a bunch of royal lotus, Mr. Do Hac called Tinh Yen aside and pointed to a small ceramic jar hidden in the corner of the shelf.

"Do you know what this is?"

Tinh Yen looked into the jar and saw inside were slices of dark brown dried tubers with twisted patterns like old tree bark. "I've never seen it before."

"This is a top-quality apricot plant. It takes several years for a batch to be grown on a high mountain. The more twisted the root is, the longer it is kept, the more valuable it is. It can cure weak spleen and weak people who cannot recover for a long time." Mr. Do Hac lifted it up for a moment, brought it close to Tinh Yen's nose so it could smell the unique aromatic scent. "This stuff is ten times more expensive than the regular kind, partly because it's rare, and partly because the road to the mountains to pick it is now dangerous - there are soldiers stationed to control the mountains near the border, so pickers have to ask for permission, which is a month long delay."

"So in the future, precious medicine will become more and more difficult to find, sir?"

"That's right, kid. War not only kills people with swords and spears, it also breaks down the paths that we doctors need to find medicine to save lives." Mr. Do Hac sighed and carefully wrapped the jar of agarwood. "You learn the trade with your grandmother. In the future, remember to learn how to use alternative medicine, something cheap but with similar effects, so that when you are in need, you will have a way to make ends meet. A good person is not someone who memorizes the medicinal properties in a book, but someone who knows how to improvise when they don't have what the book teaches."

Tinh Yen remembered those words as if engraved in her heart, nodding firmly, even though at that time she could not imagine that just a few years later, that lesson of improvisation would become the thing that kept the lives of so many people under her hands.

On the way home, after leaving the city gate, Mrs. Khue stopped at another small medicine counter, where a younger traditional medicine woman was prescribing medicine for customers. The two knew each other from before, greeted each other cordially, then the young healer pulled Mrs. Khue to a corner and whispered something that made Mrs. Khue's face gradually become serious.

"What's the matter, ma'am?" Tinh Yen asked when she turned around, took her grandchild's hand and continued on the road.

"She said there have been some strange cases in the palace recently — high fever, red rash all over the body, some people got worse very quickly." Mrs. Khue frowned, her steps slowed down as if thinking about something. "She suspects that the disease was brought in by refugees from other areas, but she's not sure what the disease is yet."

"Is it dangerous, ma'am?"

"I don't know. But if it's really an infectious disease, and refugees continue to come in more and more every day like this..." Mrs. Khue didn't finish her sentence, just shook her head, walking faster towards the road leading to Lach Dua, as if she wanted to quickly escape the stuffy atmosphere of the crowded city and return to the familiar peace of the fishing village.

All the way back, Tinh Yen was silent, her mind reeling with all kinds of images from the day - the old fisherman bowing his head before the cold official, the group of refugees sitting on the side of the road, and now a vague warning about a strange disease that was silently spreading in Thanh Duong palace. He didn't know a name for the feeling rising in his heart, but if he had to name it, he would call it a premonition — a young but persistent premonition that the disparate pieces of today were, somehow, slowly coming together to form a storm greater than anything he had ever witnessed.

Arriving at the beginning of the village when it was already dark, the oil lamps from familiar houses radiated warmly amid the sunset, and the sound of ocean waves lapping like every day. But Tinh Yen knew that, even though the scenery remained the same, something in her heart had changed after this trip - as if she had just seen a very small corner of the vast world full of injustice and danger waiting behind the village's bamboo fence, and knew that sooner or later, that world would come to her door.