第三百零二篇第三百零二篇Story Three Hundred and Two

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醫術

医术

Story Three Hundred and Two · Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio

The Art of Medicine

A line drawing in the manner of a late-Qing lithographed edition: in the yard of a poor thatched mountain cottage, a thin, weary traveller with a bundle on his back bows forward, one hand on his chest and an empty bowl held out, while a village woman seated on a low stool with a ladle and a basket of wild greens looks up at him, a large basin of water between them and a water jar, firewood, bamboo fence, pine and layered mountains behind.

張氏者,沂之貧民。途中遇一道士,善風鑑,相之曰:「子當以術業富。」張曰:「宜何從?」又顧之,曰:「醫可也。」張曰:「我僅識之無耳,烏能是?」道士笑曰:「迂哉!名醫何必多識字乎?但行之耳。」既歸,貧無業,乃摭拾海上方,即市廛中除地作肆,設魚牙蜂房,謀升斗於口舌之間,而人亦未之奇也。會青州太守病嗽,牒檄所屬徵醫。沂故山僻,少醫工;而令懼無以塞責,又責里中使自報。於是共舉張。令立召之。張方痰喘,不能自療,聞命大懼,固辭。令弗聽,卒郵送之去。路經深山,渴極,咳愈甚。入村求水,而山中水價與玉液等,遍乞之,無與者。見一婦漉野菜,菜多水寡,盎中濃濁如涎。張燥急難堪,便乞餘瀋飲之。少間,渴解,嗽亦頓止。陰念:殆良方也。比至郡,諸邑醫工,已先施治,並未痊減。張入,求密所,偽作藥目,傳示內外;復遣人於民間索諸藜藿,如法淘汰訖,以汁進太守。一服,病良已。太守大悅,賜賚甚厚,旌以金匾。由此名大譟,門常如市,應手無不悉效。有病傷寒者,言症求方。張適醉,誤以瘧劑予之。醒而悟之,不敢以告人。三日後,有盛儀造門而謝者,問之,則傷寒之人,大吐大下而愈矣。此類甚多。張由此稱素封,益以聲價自重,聘者非重貲安輿不至焉。

张氏者,沂之贫民。途中遇一道士,善风鉴,相之曰:「子当以术业富。」张曰:「宜何从?」又顾之,曰:「医可也。」张曰:「我仅识之无耳,乌能是?」道士笑曰:「迂哉!名医何必多识字乎?但行之耳。」既归,贫无业,乃摭拾海上方,即市廛中除地作肆,设鱼牙蜂房,谋升斗于口舌之间,而人亦未之奇也。会青州太守病嗽,牒檄所属征医。沂故山僻,少医工;而令惧无以塞责,又责里中使自报。于是共举张。令立召之。张方痰喘,不能自疗,闻命大惧,固辞。令弗听,卒邮送之去。路经深山,渴极,咳愈甚。入村求水,而山中水价与玉液等,遍乞之,无与者。见一妇漉野菜,菜多水寡,盎中浓浊如涎。张燥急难堪,便乞余沈饮之。少间,渴解,嗽亦顿止。阴念:殆良方也。比至郡,诸邑医工,已先施治,并未痊减。张入,求密所,伪作药目,传示内外;复遣人于民间索诸藜藿,如法淘汰讫,以汁进太守。一服,病良已。太守大悦,赐赉甚厚,旌以金匾。由此名大噪,门常如市,应手无不悉效。有病伤寒者,言症求方。张适醉,误以疟剂予之。醒而悟之,不敢以告人。三日后,有盛仪造门而谢者,问之,则伤寒之人,大吐大下而愈矣。此类甚多。张由此称素封,益以声价自重,聘者非重赀安舆不至焉。

Zhang was a poor man of Yi. On the road one day he met a Daoist who was good at reading faces. The Daoist looked him over and said, “You will grow rich by a craft.” “Which craft should I take up?” asked Zhang. The Daoist looked at him again. “Medicine will do.” “I can hardly read a word,” said Zhang. “How could I be a doctor?” The Daoist laughed. “What a pedant! Why should a famous doctor need to know many characters? Just go and do it.” When Zhang got home he was still poor and had no trade, so he picked up a few folk remedies, cleared a patch of ground in the market for a stall, set out fish teeth and wasps’ nests, and tried to talk his way to a few pecks of grain. Nobody thought much of him. Then it happened that the prefect of Qingzhou fell ill with a cough and sent orders to the counties under him to send doctors. Yi was a remote, hilly place with few doctors, but the magistrate was afraid of having nothing to show, so he in turn ordered the villages to put forward a man themselves. Everyone named Zhang. The magistrate summoned him at once. Zhang was wheezing with phlegm just then and could not cure himself. When he heard the order he was terrified and begged hard to be excused, but the magistrate would not hear of it and in the end sent him off by the official post. His way led through deep mountains. He grew desperately thirsty, and his cough got worse. He went into a village to ask for water, but in those mountains water was as dear as the nectar of jade; he begged at every door and no one would give him any. Then he saw a woman straining wild greens. There were a lot of greens and little water, and what was left in her basin was thick and murky as drool. Zhang was so parched he could not bear it, and he begged the leftover liquid and drank it. In a little while his thirst was gone, and his cough stopped all at once. He thought to himself: This must be a good remedy. By the time he reached the prefecture, the doctors from all the counties had already treated the prefect, and he was no better at all. Zhang went in and asked for a private room. He made up a false list of drugs and had it shown about, inside the residence and out; then he sent people among the villagers to gather all kinds of wild greens, washed and strained them the same way, and served the juice to the prefect. After one dose the illness was quite gone. The prefect was delighted, rewarded him lavishly, and honoured him with a gilded signboard. From then on Zhang’s name rang out. His gate was always as busy as a market, and every case he put his hand to was cured. A man sick with a cold-damage fever came, described his symptoms and asked for a prescription. Zhang happened to be drunk and by mistake gave him a remedy for malaria. When he sobered up he realised what he had done, but did not dare tell anyone. Three days later someone came to his gate with splendid gifts to thank him. Zhang asked who he was: it was the fever patient, who had vomited violently and purged violently and was cured. There were many cases like this. So Zhang became as rich as a lord without a fief, and set an ever higher price on himself; unless he was offered a heavy fee and a comfortable sedan chair, he would not come.

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