January 31, 2017

PodCastle 453: A Spirited Education

* Author : Tony Pi

* Narrator : Curtis C. Chen

* Host : Graeme Dunlop

* Audio Producer : Peter Wood

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First published in Ricepaper 19.3 in 2014.

A Spirited Education

by Toni Pi

Incense smoke drifted through the air in the apothecary like ribbons of kelp. The good doctor was brooding over an anatomy manual at his desk, reading by the light of his oil lamp. I summoned my courage, entered uninvited, and bowed deep.

“Teacher, I’ve come to resume my lessons.”

Doctor Zhao closed his book with a sigh. “Against your father’s wishes, Liren?”

“He didn’t forbid me from learning healing lore,” I corrected. As county magistrate, Father lauded the scholarly study of acupuncture and moxibustion. “He only disapproves of me practicing medicine.”

“To say nothing of quelling illnesses with sorcery, I suppose?” Zhao stroked his thin beard. “Where’s your father?”

“He went out with his honour guard an hour ago.” My cheeks burned with guilt. I had lied to Father to create this opportunity to plead with Zhao alone. Before he left the yamen to examine a body, Father had asked me to fetch the doctor, but I told him Zhao was away seeing to a patient.

Zhao flicked a bead on his abacus back and forth, sounding a torturous rhythm of wood on wood. “Your father wants you to be a judge like him.”

“That’s his ambition, not mine.” For Father, there was no greater honour. According to Confucian teachings, the father guided the son, and I ought to obey his wishes. Before Father took this post in Lai’an County and brought us north, I had no other thoughts than to excel at the imperial examinations. But two years ago, when Grandfather had fallen into a deathlike coma, no healers we found could wake him…except Zhao, with his magic. Ever since, I had yearned to become a healer like him.

“I cannot teach you more.”

“But you must, Teacher.” I stepped closer. “I lie awake at night pairing herbs to cures. My dreams are full of ginseng, needles, and peony-bitter brews. When I ought to be reading the Five Classics, I steal time to meditate on the Five Elements instead.”

“Liren, only those who fail the imperial exam resort to the medical profession.”

“Then let me fail. Medicine’s my true calling.”

He considered my words as he fidgeted with the abacus bead.

At last, he stopped. “I hear your passion, Liren, but have you the talent? Complete three tests to my satisfaction and I will intercede with your father to train you. Fail and you will pursue this path no further. Agreed?”

My heart leapt. “A thousand thanks, Teacher.”

He unrolled a handscroll in front of him. “Take a pinch of moxa from the cabinet, and light it against your skin on the yang ravine point. Then sit with your back to me.”

The hundred-eye cabinet stood to my right, four of its compartments open: golden lily buds, snowy-white pith, blood-red dates, and dried tangles of something I couldn’t name. I pushed them shut before tugging the ring-pull of the mugwort drawer.

We had practiced this technique before. Last time it had left a scar on my left wrist, near the base of the thumb. I placed a bead of ground mugwort there,

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