Chapter 28: Shocking! Find a Cow Infected with Smallpox!

A gentle breeze swept past, causing the wind chimes at the eaves to tinkle softly, adding a touch of liveliness to the solemn palace.

Zhu Gaochi strode away on his short, stout, yet sturdy legs, leisurely exiting the grand hall where the echoes of heated arguments still lingered—the remnants of a fierce debate between the old Emperor Zhu and his son. A faint smile played on his lips; he was certain that the old Emperor would adopt his suggestion. There was no other reason than the fact that the old Emperor’s profound affection for Zhu Xiongying was enough to be the deciding factor.

As he walked, Zhu Gaochi inwardly grumbled about the old Emperor’s extreme partiality. He doted on his eldest son, Zhu Biao, as if he were a treasure in the palm of his hand, and he was even more solicitous toward his eldest grandson, Zhu Xiongying, while his other descendants always seemed to receive far less warmth. He couldn’t help but lament: if only both Zhu Biao and Zhu Xiongying had lived long, healthy lives, what room would there have been for Zhu Di? The illustrious Emperor Yongle would likely never have existed. "Oh, Zhu the Fourth, Zhu the Fourth," he thought, "you might as well just content yourself with being a Great General for the Northern Expedition in this lifetime!"

In the afternoon, sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a glow over the corridors of the Imperial Academy of Medicine. Zhu Gaochi wandered in, ostensibly to cadge a meal, though it was more to find Dai Shigong for a casual chat to pass the time. He plopped down, grabbed a snack from the table, and shoved it into his mouth, chatting idly with Dai while he ate.

Dai Shigong, dressed in a cyan robe, had a thin, refined face, his eyes reflecting the gentle focus unique to a healer. He set down his medical texts and smiled at Zhu Gaochi. "Your Highness, Empress Ma’s condition has stabilized; she is now able to get out of bed and move around."

Upon hearing this, Zhu Gaochi’s eyes lit up, and a joyful smile broke across his face. "Really? That is truly fantastic news!"

In the annals of history, Empress Ma had passed away in this very year, shortly after the sudden death of Zhu Xiongying. It was widely known how much the old Emperor and the Empress doted on Zhu Xiongying. With Zhu Biao busy with state affairs and unable to care for the boy, the Emperor and Empress had become his primary caregivers, sharing a deep bond. Who could have foreseen that the elderly would end up burying the young, a blow so devastating that Empress Ma followed shortly after? Now, thanks to his own intervention, the trajectory of history had changed; Empress Ma had survived and was recovering. This brought Zhu Gaochi great relief.

However, his thoughts shifted back to Zhu Xiongying, the eldest grandson of the Great Ming whom he had poured his heart into protecting. History was frustratingly vague about the boy’s sudden death, with various theories—drowning, smallpox, and more—but no definitive cause. It left Zhu Gaochi feeling helpless. He couldn't exactly follow the boy around like a little tail all day.

With this in mind, Zhu Gaochi stopped his snack, looked up at Dai Shigong, and asked with earnest seriousness, "Old Dai, can you cure smallpox?"

Upon hearing this, Dai Shigong’s gentle expression vanished instantly, replaced by a look of stern gravity. His brows furrowed into a deep crease as he reflexively retorted, "Smallpox? Are you referring to… the pox?" He sighed softly, his voice heavy. "This disease is a true death sentence. Even though the sages of medicine have provided many methods for treatment, the results have been minimal."

Zhu Gaochi’s face turned pale at these words, his previous cheerfulness vanishing. "Is it really that terrifying?" In his previous life, he had been vaccinated since childhood and had almost no concept of smallpox. Hearing such a somber description from Dai Shigong sent a chill through him.

Dai Shigong’s expression remained unusually grave. "There is no cure! Ge Hong, the great master of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, once described its onset: 'When the epidemic strikes, sores erupt on the head, face, and body, quickly covering the skin like burns, filled with white fluid; they grow as fast as they are lanced. If not treated, the severe cases often die; those who survive are left with purple-black scars that take years to fade. This is the result of evil, toxic vapors…'" He gestured with his hands as he spoke, as if the horrific scenes were playing out before his eyes. "He left behind methods of treatment: applying good honey over the body, or boiling gentian root in honey and eating it frequently; another method involves boiling gentian root in water and washing the sores with the decoction—if soaked in wine, it is even better, though the pain is unbearable… but these are merely internal decoctions to clear toxins and external poultices to reduce swelling, with little real effect."

After a pause, Dai Shigong continued, "Sun Simiao, the 'King of Medicine' of the Tang Dynasty, recorded in his 'Essential Prescriptions Worth a Thousand Gold': 'To treat red and black blemishes on a child: needle the father’s foot, take the blood, and apply it to the blemish; to treat warts: use a needle or small knife to prick the four sides of the wart until blood appears, then apply the yellow pus from the sores of an infected person.' But these are not ideal remedies and carry their own risks. This method was practiced on a small scale among the common people, but not only did some suffer from other illnesses afterward, some even lost their lives because of it!"

Zhu Gaochi listened quietly, gaining a deeper understanding of smallpox. This was, in fact, the practice of variolation. Since smallpox only strikes once, those who survive gain permanent immunity. The ancients had devised a way to infect healthy people with a milder form of the disease so that they might survive and gain lifelong protection. The methods included wearing the clothes of the infected, or taking the pus or scabs from a mild case, drying them, and blowing them into a child's nostril. The outcome was binary: those with mild symptoms and strong immunity survived, albeit scarred; those with severe symptoms or weak immunity died. For example, Dodo and the Shunzhi Emperor of the Qing Dynasty died of smallpox, while the Kangxi Emperor had a sturdier constitution and survived, earning him the nickname "Kang the Pockmarked."

In the Great Ming, where variolation was not yet widely practiced, the disease was indeed a death sentence; whether one lived or died was entirely up to fate.

"Gaochi," Dai Shigong warned solemnly, "if you ever encounter a smallpox patient, stay away. Before such a fatal disease, all are equal. Even if you are of imperial blood, it makes no difference; survival is entirely a matter of heaven's will."

Zhu Gaochi found the statement ironic and almost amusing. In the strictly stratified Great Ming, laws could not ensure equality, yet smallpox could make everyone "equal"—what a bitter irony.

"Don't worry, I value my life! I will definitely stay far away from any smallpox patients in the future." Zhu Gaochi put on a look of feigned fear, which brought a faint smile to Dai Shigong’s face.

After the lighthearted moment, the young boy lowered his voice. "Old Dai, I have heard of a method that might actually hold hope for treating this disease!"

The moment the words left his lips, Dai Shigong’s previously gentle eyes lit up, and he stared fixedly at Zhu Gaochi. Had any other child said this, he would have scoffed; after all, what could a mere child know about a disease that had stumped the masters of medicine for generations? But because it was Zhu Gaochi—the little boy who had recently cured Empress Ma’s intractable illness—Dai Shigong couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation.

What if this little boy really did have a solution? This was the most ancient of epidemics! How many common people had perished from it? Even those who survived were often disfigured, becoming "pockmarked." There was even a folk saying: "A child is only half-born until they have survived the smallpox." If there were truly a way to treat this ancient scourge, Dai Shigong would spare no effort, regardless of fame or fortune. After all, this was the challenge every medical practitioner dreamed of overcoming!

"Gaochi, tell me your thoughts," Dai Shigong said, taking a deep breath, his gaze burning.

Zhu Gaochi didn't hesitate. He leaned in close to Dai Shigong and whispered, "I once heard a palace maid mention that in her remote hometown, cowpox could prevent smallpox. I don’t know if it’s true, but why don't you try finding a cow infected with cowpox?"

Dai Shigong: "???"

A cow? A cow infected with cowpox?
*To hell with that! I’m talking about serious medicine, and you’re spouting nonsense?*

Dai Shigong glared at Zhu Gaochi, grabbed his meal, and walked away without a word, though not without coldly reminding him, "Your Highness may leave now."

Zhu Gaochi was stunned. He hadn't expected his good intentions to be taken as a joke. Irritated, he threw down his chopsticks and shouted, "I’m being serious! Cowpox is a pox, and human smallpox is a pox—why can't you try it?"

Dai Shigong didn't look back, thinking the idea was utterly preposterous. Cows were cows, and humans were humans; how could one conflate the two? The little boy’s idea was simply too bizarre and far-fetched…

Wait…!

Dai Shigong suddenly stopped in his tracks, the words echoing in his mind: *Cowpox is a pox… Human smallpox is a pox…* If it were true that they were both just different forms of the same "pox"… his eyes widened as if he had discovered a new continent.

*Clang!* The meal in his hands fell to the floor. Dai Shigong clapped his hands together with a look of manic intensity and ran off.

Watching this, Zhu Gaochi was the one left stunned.

*Damn it,* he thought, *did that guy actually go crazy?*