So qinghao (Artemisia annua) cannot cure malaria; only huanghuahao (Artemisia apiacea) can. The qinghao mentioned in Ge Hong’s “Emergency Prescriptions Kept Up One’s Sleeve” actually refers to huanghuahao. It’s just that these two plants belong to the same genus and species, making them hard for ordinary people to distinguish. Even in the “Compendium of Materia Medica,” they were confused, so for hundreds of years, doctors have mistaken one for the other, always using qinghao to treat malaria—of course it didn’t work.

“What is huanghuahao? How could that be used as medicine? Young man, don’t talk nonsense!” The doctor, unwilling to argue further with this youth who liked to make shocking statements, left in displeasure.

Henry Carter shrugged helplessly. Clearly, it was impossible to convince someone so easily with just a few words and have them believe wholeheartedly.

The burly man didn’t see the doctor out, nor did he pay any attention to Henry Carter. He just stood there silently, lost in thought.

Henry Carter was feeling awkward, not knowing what to say, when the burly man turned to look at him.

On the right side of this man’s face was a deep knife scar, and with his large, bell-like eyes, his appearance was quite fierce.

Henry Carter felt a bit unnerved under the man’s scrutiny and began to regret speaking up.

“Young man, where are you from? And where did you hear about this remedy?” After a long pause, the burly man finally asked in a muffled voice.

“I’m a neighbor who just moved in behind you. This remedy was passed down from my elders,” Henry Carter replied casually, thinking to himself, Since I’ve come from the future, all the wise people of later generations are like family to me. Granny Tu is over eighty years old—she certainly counts as an elder.

“Then… what does huanghuahao look like?”

Henry Carter quickly explained, “It looks exactly like qinghao; you can’t tell them apart by appearance. Especially at this time of year, when the shoots have just come up, it’s even harder to distinguish.”

“Are you making fun of me, young man?!” The burly man’s brow furrowed, and the scar on his face looked even more menacing.

“No, no, absolutely not!” Henry Carter waved his hands repeatedly, not daring to keep him guessing. “If you pick a handful of leaves and rub them, the one with no smell is qinghao. The one that gives off a stinky odor is huanghuahao.”

“I see.” The burly man nodded, then asked, “So once it’s picked, how should it be taken?”

“Soak it in warm wine for a few hours, then squeeze out the juice and have the elder drink it,” Henry Carter said, then added guiltily, “But I’m not a doctor—this remedy is just hearsay, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Sigh, if there’s a way, we have to try it. Don’t worry, young man, no matter what happens, I won’t blame you.” The burly man was actually quite reasonable and could tell Henry Carter was worried.

This was exactly what Henry Carter had been waiting for. After saying his piece, he slipped away quickly.

……

It was only after he got home that he realized, in his rush to leave, he’d forgotten to ask to borrow a broom and dustpan.

‘Truly, important people are forgetful.’ Henry Carter sighed to himself, unwilling to face that fierce burly man again. Fortunately, although Caijia Alley wasn’t bustling, there were still a few vendors selling daily necessities.

He bought a broom and a bucket from an old lady for thirty coins, and, using his sweet talk, managed to get a few scraps of cloth to use as rags.

Back at the dilapidated courtyard, he picked out the cleanest piece of cloth to cover his mouth and nose as a makeshift mask. Then he grabbed the bamboo broom and swept all the dead branches and leaves into a pile in one corner of the yard.

As the debris was cleared away, the uneven yellow earth beneath was revealed. To Henry Carter’s delight, he discovered a well about the size of a washbasin hidden in the southeast corner of the yard.

Henry Carter picked up a stone and tossed it into the well, hearing a dull splash.

This made him so happy that he skipped out of the yard and ran to the street to buy a coil of hemp rope.

He tied the bucket securely and lowered it into the well. Then, bracing his legs and using both hands, he hauled up the heavy wooden bucket.

The bucket was only half full of water; the other half was filled with dead branches and rotting leaves.

‘So clean…’ Henry Carter was moved almost to tears—there were no plastic bags or mineral water bottles.

He poured the water into the courtyard, then drew another bucket, repeating the process several times until he finally brought up a bucket of crystal-clear well water.

“Whew…”

Henry Carter rubbed his aching arms and sore back, letting out a long sigh of relief.

After a short rest, he couldn’t wait to scoop up a handful of well water to wash his face. The cool, refreshing sensation was invigorating.

“Wonderful!” Henry Carter exclaimed, feeling the gloom of the past few days finally lift.

Re-energized, Henry Carter continued cleaning this place he could, for now, call home.

He sprinkled water and wiped things down, busying himself inside the house while silently making plans.

This was not the life he wanted. He, a young master who had traveled four hundred years into the past, was not here to experience the life of an ancient pauper.

Even if he couldn’t live in luxury, he should at least have clothes and food provided, right? Otherwise, it would be letting himself—and the heavens that sent him here—down!

Henry Carter stood on tiptoe, holding up the broom, sweeping the cobwebs under the eaves into gray cotton candy.

‘If I want to turn the tables in this situation, the key is to help Second Master Carter pass the provincial exam. From now until the autumn exam in August, everything must revolve around this.’

Having identified the main problem, what he needed to do next became perfectly clear.