The moment my consciousness returned to Wu Zetian's body, I could feel the arrow piercing through my heart. The pain it brought swept over my entire body, making my consciousness sway. I struggled in a pool of blood, my cries for help growing weaker. Li Hao held me in his wounded embrace, and both my father and the delegation members were in great distress. Some were in shock, some were at a loss. I could feel my life force slipping between my fingers, and my world began to be engulfed by darkness.
At this most critical moment, a path parted in the crowd of onlookers, and a young man dressed in white hurried through the delegation members to my side. He looked very young, yet his face was filled with an inexplicable sense of serenity. He introduced himself as Sun Simiao, who happened to be gathering herbs in the nearby mountains, spending nights in a nearby village. The villagers heard the commotion of the fight here and came with weapons for protection. Seeing an arrow in my heart, he quickly stepped forward and told everyone not to move me. Seeing that the others were not very convinced of him, he continued to explain that he had studied medicine since childhood, and could handle this situation.
"Sun Simiao? I've read this name in historical books before; he was a famous traditional Chinese medicine practitioner during the Sui and Tang dynasties in ancient China, known in Chinese historical texts as the Medicine King. In that era, he was considered a highly skilled doctor," I thought to myself. It seems that history always has such coincidences. Perhaps it was the ancient jade that brought me back, always in accordance with fate, letting me complete my tasks.
The blood light dyed the dawn's glow, and Sun Simiao signaled for Li Hao to gently lay me down flat on the ground. He had others quickly fashion a stretcher from a nearby tree, and then called a few strong members of the delegation to move me to the stretcher. Although I was moved to the stretcher, blood was spurting out in large amounts, the situation was very critical. At that moment, he swiftly took out a set of needles with a metallic sheen and precisely inserted them into specific acupoints around my wound. The needles moved fluidly and firmly in his hands, as if he was out of place with the passing time. Such concentration and sanctity couldn't help but make me marvel at the magic of acupuncture.
A warm current entered my body along with the needles, the gust of wind becoming a gentle flow, surging throughout my body. Under Sun Simiao's skilled acupuncture, my pain slowly subsided, and miraculously the bleeding stopped. The life that seemed to be fading away was called back, pulsing again in my veins.
What I felt was a transcendent detachment from the physical body, as if my soul was being elevated. Right when Sun Simiao finished inserting the needles, my consciousness sank into a seemingly bottomless ocean.
When I awoke again, my consciousness gradually emerged, and I found myself not in a familiar modern medical room but in a rural dwelling imbued with the scent of earth and herbs. Seeing Sun Simiao, he calmly ground the herbs beside him, surrounded by a variety of bottles and jars, emanating the natural fragrance of plants and wood.
I glanced at a few bundles of strange plants by my side, unknown to me, yet similar to those depicted in ancient texts. Sun Simiao handed me a cup of medicine that glowed a faint green, and he seemed to say in a strange dialect, "Drink this, it is the soup that saves the soul, can expel the evil from the five organs, replenish the body's vitality."
Hesitantly, I took the soup; it was bitter with a hint of sweetness, the power of the medicine reaching deep into my organs, like a warm spring breeze sweeping over the biting cold of winter. With the medicine's effect sinking in, I fell into slumber once again.
Even in the dream, my consciousness remained clear. He gently caressed my wounds, then picked up several long, thin silver needles, skillfully inserting them into several critical acupoints on my body. After all was prepared, he called over a few people to help him gently remove the arrow from my heart. Strangely, there was no massive outflow of blood, which was truly miraculous. I could feel the life force pulsating at his fingertips, like the spring thunder awakening the dormant earth, my blood began to respond to that ancient and mystical call, flowing back into my veins.
After the arrow was removed, he gently took out the needles that had been used for acupuncture from my body. He then took out a bottle of brown ointment, spread it over the wound where my heart had been struck by the arrow, and murmured words I couldn't understand. His voice was both melodious and calm, as if he possessed an unspeakable magical power. After applying the medicine, the turbulent currents inside my body suddenly calmed down, a cool energy circulated throughout my body, as if I were bathing in the clearest stream between heaven and earth.
In the days following the surgery, as day and night changed, and the crescent moon waxed round, I miraculously stepped out of death's shadow under the careful nursing of Medicine King Sun Simiao. Daily, Sun Simiao would heal my wounds with his herbs, either concocting fresh medicinal juices or mixing baked medicinal powders with honey. Each herb, each prescription, carried his profound understanding of the medicinal path and the philosophy of unity between heaven and man.
During the days spent in Sun Simiao's small herb array, I gradually came to understand the vastness and profundity of traditional medicine, as well as its unique charm incomparable to modern medicine. The healing process was not only a physical rebirth but also an opportunity for the spirit to reconnect with all things natural.
I miraculously came back from the brink of death, and what's more, the wound healed at a surprisingly fast pace. But one day he disappeared, and the people around me said he continued his travels to practice medicine. I inquired about the whereabouts of the young man in white but nobody could give me an answer.
Since then, Medicine King Sun Simiao has remained a puzzle in my heart. Having experienced life and death, my inner world had transformed dramatically. During the time of my recovery, I began studying Chinese medicine, attempting to find some answers in the ancient texts.
As my body recovered, I couldn't help but ponder whether all this was real. Like a dream that transcends time and space, was such a miraculous experience an illusion, or was there really a temporal tunnel that allowed me to meet the Medicine King whose fame spanned thousands of years? For me, the memories of those days are etched deep into my soul — the time I shared with Medicine King Sun Simiao is one of the most precious treasures of my life.
As an American woman writer, I have always approached the world with a rigorous attitude, but never imagined that outside my conceptions, I would have such an encounter. I began to attempt to understand this world that I had traveled through — ancient Chinese medicine, which stands in stark contrast to the modern Western medicine with which I am familiar.
In modern medicine, surgery and drug therapy are common treatments, doctors rely on testing and imaging results to diagnose diseases, and treatment generally has clear dosages and standards. It's like a finely crafted machine, each component with its precise function and role.
Traditional Chinese medicine (TCM), on the other hand, is like a hidden art. Based on the theories of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements, it uses inspection, auscultation, and olfaction, inquiry, and palpation as its diagnostic methods. The treatment of diseases emphasizes the harmonization of the body's internal Qi with the external natural environment. TCM not only treats the physical body but is also a kind of philosophical contemplation, caring for the comprehensive health of the body, mind, and spirit.
While TCM diagnoses may not be as easily quantifiable, one can understand that in the time of the Tang Dynasty, without CT scans or blood tests, the Medicine King's diagnoses relied solely on ancient yet nuanced observation and years of clinical experience. I was no longer just a passive subject of treatment, but was guided to feel my own body and understand my own health.
Medicine King Sun Simiao sought balance within me through his unique methods. The needles and herbs in his hands were not only tools for curing disease but also mediums for connecting the human body with the cosmic energy. I benefitted from such treatment, yet I was unable to fully master its mystery.
My cognition was changing. The modern medical knowledge I once firmly believed in seemed not so absolute in this ancient time-space. I began to doubt whether I had been standing on the island of knowledge, oblivious to the vast ocean around me.
My confusion also emerged. If TCM really has such miraculous effects, why isn't it fully accepted by mainstream medicine in the modern world I come from? Is it because of a lack of scientific evidence, or cultural differences that lead to cognitive barriers?
I find myself in the rift between science and tradition. I have witnessed the marvel of TCM, my body is recovering, and my heart is realizing that the unknown is far more abundant than what I understand. Perhaps, I don't need to find all the answers immediately. What I need is to cherish this rare experience and maintain a heart of awe and inquiry towards the wisdom of ancient orient.
My recovery was like unveiling a canvas that attracted the curious eyes of the people around. The crowd began to spread tales of my and the Medicine King's story. At first, they approached with reverence and longing, and gradually, whispers turned into open discussion. But slowly, I found that public opinion began to deviate, and my recovery started to attract various suspicions and hostility, and I even overheard a passerby muttering behind my back that I was an "undying witch." I began to deeply question the values of the ancient populace, which was akin to how in the ancient Western society, a common woman could be baselessly accused of being a witch by mere conjecture.
Not long after, even officials and constables from the local government came to investigate the humble herb hut. They questioned whether the Medicine King's methods were morally sound, and some even speculated whether I had revived through some evil sorcery. I went from being a weak survivor to becoming a heretic who shook their worldview.
Amid slander and suspicious gazes, am I just a fortuitous survivor who traversed time, or an unwelcome visitor who disturbed this ancient tranquility? This chance at rebirth granted me a new life, yet it also brought the seeds of unease—a loneliness and confusion unique to those displaced in time and space.
I began to ponder the meaning of life. I once thought life was about constant exploration and writing, yet after facing death and being reborn, the meaning of life seemed to have a deeper implication. This incredible encounter with Sun Simiao made me realize that life is not just the continuation of an individual, but also the transfer of culture and knowledge.
This experience has not only challenged my understanding of life but also impacted the people of this era. The medical skill and wisdom represented by Sun Simiao, as well as the rules and beliefs of this time-space, have been stirred by my presence. I had no intention of changing history, yet I inevitably became a part of that change.
Faced with all this, I couldn't help asking myself: What kind of rebirth do I truly desire? Is it to live in the reverence and mystification of others, or to live out my own ideals and freedom? How should I play a suitable role on this historical stage?
I long to find a balance that does not defy the rules of this era but also maintains my nature to seek facts and truth.
Through this ordeal, I've learned to listen to my body, every inch of skin, every heartbeat, as they all have their own language. During the treatment, Sun Simiao also taught me to perceive the properties of the herbs through their color, aroma, and taste, and how to transform these natural forces into healing and harmony.
Day by day, with healing and learning, I also began to have a new understanding of life. I thought I had grasped the meaning of life and creation, but in this ancient era, I truly understood the importance of gratitude—for the sun, air, water, and all the natural elements that make life possible.
On this journey, I was forced to reassess my values. Western rational thinking and scientific logic, in the face of Eastern philosophy and holistic care, did not seem all-encompassing.
Healing is not just physical recovery but also a process where profound changes occur within my inner world. My spirit has been refined, becoming stronger and more expansive. I started to appreciate the intrinsic beauty of every person, whether they are common folks of this era or from the future me. My heart, through this adventurous traverse, has become broader and stronger, and I know that no matter how many confusions and challenges the future holds, in this rediscovered splendor of life, I will carry gratitude and resilience, and bravely move forward.