Struggling to muster the strength to get out of bed, Chen Zhou felt a bit dizzy, unsure whether it was due to a cold or if the alcohol hadn't worn off.
The oil lamp by the bed was more than half consud, casting dim light.
Still feeling cold, he wrapped himself in a seal skin, shuffled in his shoes, and slowly went to the platform to relieve himself.
Lowering his head slightly to watch the dark yellow liquid, Chen Zhou murmured.
"Maybe it's the high fever..."
Having dealt with his physical need, he checked the firewood in the kitchen on his way back.
The wood blocks had long burned out, leaving only a few glowingly embers, faintly glowing.
The large iron kettle, with its lid on, had its once-boiling morning water now turned lukewarm.
His mouth dry and bitter, he scooped a large cup of warm water and drank it down. Returning to the bedroom, Chen Zhou stuck out his tongue and checked in the mirror.
The tongue coating was pale and bluish, scraping it with his upper teeth, it felt greasy, a typical symptom of a wind-cold type cold.
The good news was the cold symptoms were still relatively mild.
Chills all over, fatigue, loss of appetite, and other symptoms were not greatly affecting his body, and there was no risk of worsening. Relying on his immune system, there was a good chance he could pull through.
After lying in bed for a while longer, Chen Zhou mulled over his situation, realizing just waiting around wasn't a solution.
If he were to have a high fever at night, without dicine or treatnt thods, he might burn to death.
Rather than that, he thought he should take advantage of his current energy and go down the mountain to fetch so dicine. In case the condition worsened, at least he could try whatever might work, even if it was a last resort.
He got up, put on two layers of underwear, then a thick coat, donned a new brimd hat, and, as usual, picked up the long-handled axe, ready to set off.
Before leaving the cave, he added so small twigs to the embers in the stove and campfire, hoping the fire would ignite again by the ti he returned, making it easier to boil water and cook.
When one catches a cold, there's significant consumption of water and energy within the body, necessitating more water and food intake to recover quickly.
When he was young and fell sick, Chen Zhou's grandparents or mother would often urge him on, making sure he took dicine and drank water, fearing his recovery would be slow.
Now, he could only take care of himself.
He tucked the long-handled axe into his belt, found a long stick to support his body, and, accompanied by Lai Fu, Chen Zhou left the cave, slowly heading down the mountain.
The island was particularly damp in the rainy season, barely a piece of dry ground could be found.
The rabbit flag in front of the field was soaked by rain, losing its hair, with moss and fungi growing on the stick, and the scarecrow was also green with vines entwining its feet.
The wind had cald a bit since dawn, slipping in through his collar and wide sleeves, dispersing the warmth from Chen Zhou's body.
However, this pure chill was more tolerable than the sporadic cold and heat, at least making him feel more alert.
Walking on, his circulation might have been stimulated, as the chill weakened and his skin gradually ward up.
By the ti he reached the camp, Chen Zhou even felt like his cold had mostly improved.
But as he stopped moving and rummaged through the shack, the weakness ca rolling back with the internal chill.
He searched through the tobacco box where supplies were organized and stored together.
Taking out the high-end tobacco left by Robinson, the Captain, and the First Mate, and carrying two pipes wrapped in clothes, as he returned the tobacco box, Chen Zhou opened the ship doctor's dical box.
The bottles and cans labeled in the box had not seen daylight for a long ti, and most of the glue used for labeling had dried up, causing the labels to fall into the box.
The originally clearly described dicines, now unlabeled, turned into bottles of "unknown dications" with unknown ingredients and unclear purposes.
Carefully picking up each label, deciphering the scrawled writing on them, he looked for the corresponding dicine bottles.
Chen Zhou was hoping to find so useful dicine to bring back to the cave.
Feeling unwell now, he was afraid of carrying the whole box of dicine.
"This bottle seems like a hemostatic dicine, let's open it and see."
Matching the label with the glue marks on the bottle, confirming it was indeed a hemostatic dicine, Chen Zhou flipped open the bottle cap.
Inside the glass jar was a large lump of unidentified black substance, already solidified, emitting a strong stench mixed with a certain spiciness from so added spices, wrinkling his entire face.
Hurriedly covering the bottle, Chen Zhou figured either the dicine had animals' blood or body tissues added.
Much like the primitive witch doctors in Western fantasy movies, using lizard tails and bat eyes to brew a redy.
Or perhaps this dicine was improperly stored and had expired.
Regardless of whether it had animal blood or was expired, this bottle surely couldn't serve its hemostatic purpose, possibly even causing wound infection, so it was best to discard it and keep the glass jar for other uses.
"I'll deal with it later, let's check this bottle... uh... seems like an etic."
Seeing the label's writing, Chen Zhou hesitated to open this bottle.
Etics generally involve strong, foul-tasting liquids or feces and urine to achieve the effect.
Like the Huoxiang Zhengqi Liquid or Shidi Shui, he drank for heatstroke as a child, their taste unforgettable after just one experience.
This Western etic likely wouldn't sll any better either, so better left unopened.
"Let's first try to find so dicine for wind-cold type cold…"
Taking out all the bottles from the box and checking them one by one, Chen Zhou realized that there was no dicine for the cold here.
Of course, this was because only a few words on the labels were recognizable to him, while the rest were either too scrawled to read or completely unfamiliar.
17th-century English and modern English couldn't possibly be entirely the sa, this occurrence was quite normal.
Among these glass jars were entirely transparent ones, and so with the inside wall painted black, making the contents invisible.
After going through them, although he didn't find any cold dicine, Chen Zhou did discover through the glass wall a few bottles that seed potentially useful.
These bottles were filled with dense, seed-like things, resembling seeds of so plants.
Recalling that Western dicine wasn't well-developed, similar to traditional Chinese dicine using plant seeds and roots for treatnts, there were folk redies.
Chen Zhou suspected these seeds might be herbs popular in Europe.
If they hadn't been processed like traditional Chinese dicines, perhaps they could even be planted.
Though not necessarily curative, they might be useful in other fields, such as in the culinary world.
From a science video, Chen Zhou rembered learning that herbal teas were popular in Europe, believed to cure ailnts and enhance health and sexual prowess.
Most of the herbs introduced in that video he'd forgotten, only a few, like nettle, fennel, and mint, left an impression.
Nettle managed arthritis, with nettle tea being a diuretic, suitable for kidney stone patients.
Fennel was tasty in dumplings, and mint served as a condint, even if not dicinally, it enhanced culinary diversity.
Carefully checking the labels on those seed-filled bottles, he found he didn't recognize any.
"It really sucks to be uneducated."
With a sullen face, Chen Zhou picked out these bottles and placed them together with the tobacco, intending to take them back to the cave and examine them one by one to identify what they were.
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