Chapter 253: Li Village

On the third day, the exploration team arrived at a Li stockade in the middle reaches of the Changhua River. This was the village where the guide's maternal uncle lived. The exploration team decided to rest here, inquire about the road ahead, and find another guide. Assistant Wang was not very familiar with the route past this Li stockade.

This Li stockade was completely different from the Li stockades Mu Min had seen in Lingao. If not for the tattooed Li women at the entrance and their distinctive ethnic clothing, it would have been hard to distinguish it from a general Han village.

The village was very large, with nearly a hundred households, and the houses were arranged neatly. The flat land by the river outside the village had all been reclaimed into paddy fields for planting wet rice, unlike the Li people in other places who practiced slash-and-burn agriculture. It was evident that both their living standards and agricultural production were higher than other Li groups.

Looking closely, although the Meifu Li's houses were Han-style, they were built more crudely than Han houses. Here, men combed a bun behind their heads and wore earrings; women wrapped their heads with black and white cloth towels. Regardless of gender, they all wore a kind of black jacket with buttons down the front.

"The origin of the Meifu Li is quite interesting," Fang Jinghan said. "According to some materials I've read, it's speculated they are likely the descendants of a group of Han immigrants who came to Hainan Island earliest during the pre-Qin and Han periods."

The name Meifu Li also revealed that they were latecomers to the island. "Meifu" was their autonym, meaning "guests living on the lower road"—obviously, their arrival was later than other Li peoples. The Meifu Li occupied good fields on both banks of the Changhua River and were able to plant wet rice. Their weaving technology was also superior to other Li groups. Past ethnological surveys had even found that their looms were very similar to types from the Central Plains during the Han Dynasty. The Meifu Li had few primitive commune components, obvious social differences, ancestral halls, genealogies, arranged seniority, and conflicts between clans.

"Then they must speak Chinese?" Ye Yuming said.

"Han Dynasty Chinese? Probably not!" Xiong Buyou replied.

"This is just speculation. They might also be descendants of other ethnic groups from the mainland who had already been Sinicized. Besides, even if they are truly descendants of Han people, they wouldn't necessarily still speak Chinese."

"I didn't expect you to be so familiar with the Li people." Mu Min felt somewhat ashamed. She was a standard Li person, but when it came to understanding her own ethnicity, she knew far less than this university graduate.

"This counts as a course subject." Fang Jinghan was somewhat embarrassed. "Something used in my major. I studied sociology."

"This major sounds very... impressive." Mu Min thought for a long time before coming up with such an adjective. "You can do ethnological research or something."

"We had four classes in one major, forty people in each class. That's a hundred and sixty in one year. There are at least twenty or thirty undergraduate colleges offering this major in the whole country; where am I going to find research to do?" Fang Jinghan smiled bitterly. "So..."

As he spoke, he felt a pang of pain in his heart. A fresh start wasn't necessarily a good thing. After enduring months of hard labor, he discovered once again that he wasn't a protagonist. The transmigrator team was full of talent: masters could form a company, doctors could form a platoon, returnees were countless, and there were even princelings who had flown planes and fired guns in the US. A guy like him was still just a basic member of the masses, finally thrown into the exploration team as "waste material."

"How about you work with me from now on!" Mu Min waved her hand carelessly. "My Li and Miao Affairs Office is short of people."

"Hey hey, boss, can you be a bit more subtle when poaching people?" Cui Yunhong laughed. "Treating me like I don't exist."

"I'm stating a fact. It's settled; we'll handle the paperwork when we get back."

Talking and laughing, they turned a river bend. A patch of houses appeared on the hillside ahead. The guide said, "That's Qiandui Stockade ahead; it's my uncle's home." His words carried affection.

"Running a horse to death looking at the mountain." Although the Li stockade was right in front of them, it took another full half hour to arrive. The river water here was abundant and shallow, but clear to the bottom. The banks were full of tall arbor trees, their branches hanging heavy with large bean pods. Mu Min was very curious and hurriedly called everyone to look.

Cui Yunhong laughed: "Those are soap bean trees; what's so rare about them? There are plenty near the villages back home."

"Is that the natural soap bean shampoo thing?" Mu Min's impression of soap beans was limited to this.

"Right, soap beans used to be natural soap. Good for washing clothes and bathing." Cui Yunhong stopped to take a look. This soap bean forest extended from the riverbank to the hillside, covering at least thirty to fifty mu. Truly an excellent resource.

Ye Yuming said, "This resource is useless to us. Once we get coconut oil, we can produce soap."

"Soap beans have many industrial uses," Cui Yunhong said. "I forget the specifics. The advantage is they have no corrosiveness and are milder than soap. Also, they seem to have medicinal uses."

The group arrived at the stockade gate. Guarding able-bodied men came over to question them. Because Assistant Wang led the way and they brought goods, they entered the stockade easily.

The mountain people, seeing foreign merchants, gathered around to see the goods. The Li district was remote; daily necessities like salt, needles, and thread all relied on peddlers. As soon as they arrived, the women of the stockade came to watch, surrounding the group in a big circle in front of a large house.

The exploration team hurriedly spread out their goods. Packets of white sugar, dazzlingly white. Many Li people didn't recognize it. Guide Wang touted it for them while sprinkling some on banana leaves for everyone to taste. Immediately, sales were excellent.

As for salt, needles, thread, hook knives, and farm tools—naturally, these were daily necessities. The exploration team also brought some products specifically developed by the trading company for trade in the Li districts, mainly perforated glass beads of various colors. They were all made from waste material left over from manufacturing glass vessels, but they were dazzling and colorful, attracting many young women who gathered around Mu Min, chattering and laughing as they chose goods. Unfortunately, the Meifu Li also had the custom of face tattooing, shattering the romantic dreams of many young men who had harbored fantasies about Li maidens.

The Li people had no gold, silver, or copper coins; it was all barter trade. The things they offered in exchange were varied. The exploration team's intention was to collect resource information, not to make a profit. Leather, medicinal herbs, betel nuts, soap beans, kudzu cloth, kapok cloth—all were accepted. The value calculation was generous, so both parties were happy. The group was busy trading until the crowd gradually dispersed.

Guide Wang was hospitable and invited them to stay and rest at his uncle's house.

The guide's uncle was surnamed Li, named Li Benqing. Apart from a broken house, the family had no fields or land, making a living by gathering herbs and hunting. At twenty-seven or twenty-eight, he still hung around the Gui Long. Originally, he had low status in the stockade. Later, because he often went to the county seat to sell hides and wild game and could speak Chinese, all dealings with government officials and merchants fell under his charge. Currently, he was considered to have some face in the stockade.

Everyone followed the guide to the straw hut. The bamboo-woven door was half-open, and the room was dark, with only the firelight from the fire pit glowing faintly.

Faint groans came from the small room.

The guide pushed open the door and went in. Cui Yunhong asked everyone to wait outside and went in first with Xiong Buyou. They saw a middle-aged man half-lying on a bamboo frame bed, without bedding—a lot of rice straw was thrown on and under the bed. A bamboo torch burned in the room, sputtering red firelight. Under the firelight, the man had messy hair, a full beard, and a flushed face. Seeing people enter, he hurriedly called out a few times.

Assistant Wang fetched half a ladle of water from the mountain spring piped in by bamboo tubes outside and fed it to him. Only then did he feel a bit better. Uncle and nephew met, naturally exchanging words. The others couldn't understand and, disliking the cramped room, all sat on the ground under the porch, fetching some mountain spring water and adding water purification tablets to drink and quench their thirst.

After a while, the guide came out and apologized profusely: "I'm truly sorry, shopkeepers. I originally thought since this is my uncle's house, hosting you with good food and lodging for a few days would be no problem, and he's an expert at gathering herbs. It's just that his cold-and-hot disease has flared up recently, and it's severe. You've been neglected."

Everyone immediately focused their eyes on He Ping, sent by the Ministry of Health. This person had been doing odd jobs in the Ministry of Health since D-Day. Shi Niaoren, adhering to the principle that one more person meant one more unit of strength, had taught him some basic simple medical skills. After practicing on several rabbits and frogs, and trying his hand on a few unfortunate indigenous patients who fell into his hands, He Ping had become a glorious "health worker." Seeing everyone looking at him, he knew he was expected to show his skills and conquer the hearts of the ancients with modern medicine.

Delivering medicine and medical treatment—though an old trick—was the most effective.

The so-called cold-and-hot disease in Hainan's Li districts was nine times out of ten malaria. This was a common disease in the Li districts with a high infection rate. Since D-Day, some transmigrators had also been infected. Fortunately, the Plasmodium here had not yet developed drug resistance, so medication worked very well. Therefore, He Ping was confident in playing the role of miracle doctor.

Immediately, he asked Assistant Wang to carry his uncle out of the house and place him under the porch. Only then did everyone discover that this "uncle" wasn't actually old—only in his early thirties. He Ping observed his symptoms: flushed face, shortness of breath, conjunctival congestion, skin hot and dry... These were all typical symptoms of the fever stage of Plasmodium vivax malaria. Without measuring temperature, judging by touch on the forehead, the body temperature was at least above 39°C.

"How often does it flare up?" He Ping asked.

"Once every two days," Li Benqing said, in great pain. "Flares once, good for a day. Then flares again. Once it starts, it lasts for ten days or so—" He gasped for breath.

"This should be Plasmodium vivax malaria. It counts as a benign malaria." He Ping's diagnosis, however, made everyone uneasy. Cui Yunhong whispered, "How sure are you? If you treat him to death, we'll be in a difficult position."

He Ping was very dissatisfied: "I didn't say I wanted to treat him; you guys brought it up. We can stop now. Anyway, vivax malaria naturally heals after five to ten attacks—"

Mu Min watched the patient groaning in pain and felt great pity: "Treat him. He's a human life too. It's just malaria; those who are timid can't achieve great things."

Seeing that no one opposed, He Ping took out four chloroquine tablets from the medical kit. This was the most effective antimalarial drug the transmigrators had, with fast action, short course, and much lower toxicity than quinine.

"Swallow with water, go back to sleep, and take it again tomorrow," He Ping instructed. According to the lesson Shi Niaoren had given him, this disease would be cured after three consecutive days of medicine.

The uncle and nephew were skeptical. There were Han doctors in Changhua city, but they hadn't heard of any having the ability to cure this cold-and-hot disease. How could these peddlers casually produce a few white things and claim they could cure the disease? However, the attacks were truly painful, so treating a dead horse as a live one, he swallowed them.

Seeing the patient fall into a drowsy sleep, everyone felt uneasy—this wasn't Lingao, where the Transmigrator Group was the local emperor whose word was law. In this unfamiliar Changhua Li stockade, if a life was lost, it would end badly.

Assistant Wang didn't have so many thoughts and busied himself preparing to cook for everyone. Xiong Buyou repeatedly said it wasn't necessary, as they had brought their own dried food. He only asked for help boiling some water. Everyone ate some Grassland Series rations with the boiling water. Assistant Wang felt sorry seeing them being so polite, but livelihood in the Li stockade was originally difficult, and he couldn't bring out anything to serve, so he planned to hunt some wild game tomorrow to treat them.

The exploration team set up a temporary shed with bamboo poles in Li Benqing's yard and asked for a lot of fresh straw to spread. He Ping gathered a lot of Artemisia annua (sweet wormwood) from the river beach outside the stockade and lit it beside the shed. Once the damp vegetation caught fire, the choking thick smoke made everyone cough incessantly.

"This is a malaria epidemic area; repelling mosquitoes is an effective way to prevent infection," He Ping said. "Artemisia smoke repels mosquitoes very well. Smoking it like this can guarantee a night." Although antimalarial drugs had been distributed to all exploration team members for prevention two weeks before departing from the Zhenhai, mosquito protection remained the most effective prevention method in malaria areas.

Ye Yuming remembered: "Can't Artemisia annua also treat malaria? It's everywhere. Treating the Li people would be very convenient. If promoted, Li and Miao work would be easier."

"This is Qinghao, not Chouhao," He Ping said. "Qinghao is useless."

"Hainan doesn't produce Chouhao?"

"Of course it does, but just decocting Chouhao cannot prevent or cure malaria." He Ping used to work in a pharmaceutical factory. Though his major was electromechanical, he was familiar with pharmaceutical production processes. "Without extraction in a pharmaceutical factory, the effective component artemisinin cannot be extracted at all. Based on our industrial level, it's probably impossible to utilize this drug. Better to honestly plant cinchona for quinine."

Mu Min, afraid of accidents, agreed that the team would take turns on duty to add fire and fuel so the Artemisia would burn all night. This also guarded against anyone with ill intentions.

Early the next morning, Li Benqing no longer had a fever. He Ping was greatly relieved—this showed the diagnosis and treatment were correct. Then he gave him two more tablets. Like this, he would recover after three days of treatment.

The exploration team surveyed the depth of the Changhua River outside the Li stockade. The deepest part was already 1.2 to 1.3 meters, generally navigable for boats. There were carpenters in the stockade and simple dugout canoes, but the boats were small, each seating only two or three people. Cui Yunhong decided to build bamboo rafts here, preparing to go upriver. The next target was the Sanchahe River.

(End of Chapter)