Mr. Zhao Meicun – a calligraphy virtuoso from Gu County, Shanxi – had hands that danced across paper. Everyone who saw his official documents gasped at their elegance. He’d earned a scholar-official position through imperial exams, mind you, serving as secretary to Governor Zhitian in Yulin. When Zhitian left to mourn his mother’s passing, Meicun returned home – only to be summoned later by his former exam-hall brother Dai You’an, now magistrate of Dingxiang County.
Summer of 1862 (Renxu Year by the old calendar), during Dingxiang’s preliminary exams? That’s when the magistrate asked me to grade papers. Meicun and I talked daily. One evening, he groaned, “I’ve always been strong as an ox, but lately – good heavens – my legs have been swelling up like overstuffed sausages! By afternoon, I can’t even bend my knees!”
My questions came rapid-fire:
“Wrinkled skin?”
“Like aged parchment.”
“Shiny surface?”
“Glossier than lacquerware.”
“Trouble urinating?”
“A dribble, nothing more.”
“Tightness here?” I tapped my chest.
“Exactly!”
“You’re drowning yourself in water,” I declared. “Fluid’s pooling in your legs – untreated, it’ll flood your waist, then your belly. Disaster!”
When he begged for pulse diagnosis, I waved him off. “What we need’s a plumbing fix. Pee freely, swellings vanish. Drink only when parched – no casual sipping!”
The prescription? Wuling Powder (Wu Ling San) – that classic diuretic formula – plus four herbs: Akebia Stem (mu tong), Cyathula Root (niu xi), Stephania Root (fang ji), and Dianthus Superbus (qu mai).
That night – glory be! – he visited the chamber pot six times. “My stomach feels twenty pounds lighter!” he marveled come morning. Three days of doses later? Swellings gone. He strode about like a mountain goat, then pressed calligraphy gifts into my hands—a scroll and couplet—murmuring “Sorcerer!” half in awe, half in gratitude.
Leave a Reply