“Go in.”
Zhou Jin led the girls into the pavilion. Without Jin Feng’s prompting, each one automatically stood behind a wooden table.
“Have you sewn clothes at home?” Jin Feng asked.
“Yes!” the girls replied one after another.
In those days, clothes were worn for years, and sewing was a must-have skill for nearly all women.
“Good. Our first lesson is stitching wounds,” Jin Feng said, holding up a curved suture needle and some treated thread. “Zhou Jin, distribute these.”
Zhou Jin stepped forward, handing each girl a needle and a bundle of thread.
It was their first time seeing a curved needle, and they examined it curiously.
“The most common battlefield injuries are from swords and knives. If these wounds aren’t treated promptly, they’ll keep bleeding and may get infected, leading to pus and possibly death,” Jin Feng explained. “The bandits in front of you were killed by blades. Your task is to stitch their wounds.”
Outside the pavilion, Zhang Liang nodded slightly. Qing Mulanzhou looked thoughtful.
After the previous night’s ordeal, the girls’ nerves were tougher. A few frowned slightly, but none made a sound, clearly accepting the task mentally.
Zhou Jin was already rubbing her hands, eager to start.
“Stitching wounds isn’t like sewing clothes. It doesn’t need to look pretty, but it mustn’t be messy, as that hinders healing,” Jin Feng said, picking up a curved needle to demonstrate. “The needle is curved to make stitching wounds easier.”
Stitching wounds was both simple and complex. With plenty of bandit corpses to practice on, the girls quickly grasped the basics.
Of course, one afternoon’s training couldn’t compare to years of surgical study, but Jin Feng was satisfied.
You eat a meal bite by bite, and you walk a road step by step.
He didn’t expect the girls to become skilled medics in a day or two. Their biggest achievement was overcoming their fear of corpses and gruesome wounds.
By evening, when the female soldiers returned from training, all the wounds on the bandit corpses had been stitched.
“Iron, we’re done with the corpses. Please take them out and bury them,” Jin Feng said with some regret.
He wished he could preserve the bodies for further study, but they were already starting to smell and couldn’t be kept.
With his medical knowledge and the available resources, he had no way to preserve them, so burial was the only option.
“Sir, what’s tomorrow’s test?” Zhou Jin asked, still eager.
For the other girls, the past two days had been torture, but for her, it was a thrill. She’d always wanted to learn coroner skills, but her father insisted the family trade was for men only, allowing her only to watch and listen, never to touch bodies. Now, she finally had her chance and wished the tests would continue daily.
“That’s it for my tests,” Jin Feng said with a smile. “Congratulations, you’ve all passed. From tomorrow, come here every afternoon for lessons.”
Hearing this, all the girls except Zhou Jin breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sir, what do we do in the mornings?” one girl asked.
“Mornings, you train with the others.”
“Sir, didn’t you say that as medics, we wouldn’t have to fight bandits? Why do we still need to train?” Zhou Jin asked.
“In theory, yes, but you’ll move with the army. If you can’t keep up physically, what then? Should someone carry you? And you’ll often need to carry the wounded, which requires strength. Even if the battle goes badly and enemies reach the rear to attack you, would you just surrender? Medics are still soldiers, so training is essential,” Jin Feng explained.
“That makes sense!” the girls nodded in agreement.
On the way back, Jin Feng ran into Liu Tie, returning from burying the corpses.
“Iron, if you go to the county in the next few days, buy me a few jars of liquor,” Jin Feng said.
In modern medicine, alcohol was essential, but Jin Feng didn’t know how to mass-produce it industrially. He could only use the simple method of distilling it from liquor, which required large amounts of it.
Brewing liquor needed lots of grain, and with food scarce, few farmers could afford to brew. Only the county had places to buy it.
“Brother Feng, I thought you didn’t drink. Got a craving?” Liu Tie asked with a grin.
“Sort of,” Jin Feng replied, unable to explain alcohol’s medical use.
“Which brand? I hear Bai’s Seven-Mile Fragrance and Liu’s Drunk East Wind are good,” Liu Tie said.
“No need for fancy stuff. Get the strongest, cheapest liquor you can find.”
Seven-Mile Fragrance and Drunk East Wind sounded expensive. Using them for alcohol production would be wasteful.
“Haha, right, strong liquor is what real men drink,” Liu Tie said, laughing. “How much do you want?”
“Ten jars, ten jin each,” Jin Feng said casually.
“How many?” Liu Tie thought he’d misheard.
“Ten jars,” Jin Feng repeated.
“Brother Feng, that’s a lot for drinking,” Liu Tie said.
“Don’t worry about it. Just get them. I’ll cover the cost.”
“Alright,” Liu Tie nodded, seeing Jin Feng was set on it.
That night, Jin Feng told Run Niang to steam extra buns and store the uneaten ones in a cupboard, warning Xiao E not to sneak any.
From then on, every afternoon, Jin Feng taught the girls at the back mountain.
His medical knowledge was rudimentary, barely half a bucket, but he taught them basic surgical know-how, the most critical for battlefield injuries.
He explained why wounds got infected, why infections caused fevers, and how to sterilise medical tools. This knowledge could greatly improve injured soldiers’ survival rates.
To help the girls practice, Jin Feng had veterans hunt rabbits and wild boars in the old forest for them to disinfect, stitch, and bandage wounds.
Having endured hardships, the girls adapted quickly, learning earnestly and making great progress.
Zhou Jin, in particular, surpassed Jin Feng’s stitching skills, sparking his admiration for her talent.
