"Let’s wait until she wakes up and see. There shouldn’t be any major issues." Harano answered as taught in the books. "If she’s still having diarrhea, just give her so warm salted water later. In the next few days, have her drink so hot rice porridge and eat so stead eggs to nourish her body—she should recover. It’s just a minor illness, and the diagnosis and treatnt were very tily, so Lord Maeda, you really don’t need to worry."
If this prescription didn’t work, he still had a trump card up his sleeve. Considering Atsumatsu would be one of the ’Three Ladies of the Sengoku’ in the future, she probably deserved... a third of a tablet would be enough—she could have a third of an anti-inflammatory pill, and she’d be sure to get better, truly nothing to worry about.
"A minor illness?" Maeda Toshie was clueless about dicine. In Taiko 2, his dical skill would be zero stars. Neither did he understand dicine, nor did the limitations of the era help; it didn’t seem like a minor illness to him—normally, one would at least lose half their life. But Harano appeared to be of noble birth, and was a physician who saved lives. Even with his straightforward personality, he didn’t dare to question it openly; he could only bow deeply again, sitting properly. "You’ve really gone through a lot of trouble for us—thank you so much!"
"It’s nothing, truly. Treating illnesses and saving people is a doctor’s duty. No need to be so polite."
Leaving behind a typical saying for physicians, Harano got up to leave, letting him stay with the patient. He didn’t show much enthusiasm, nor did he use this opportunity to curry favor—though befriending Maeda Toshie would help him gain a foothold in this era, it was still their first eting, and first impressions were crucial in social interactions. Forcing familiarity at this point would only make himself look bad—sothing no wise man would do.
Pride, self-respect, humility, and self-love—only then can you earn others’ respect and affection. This principle holds in any era.
This is good enough for now; it’s best to take things slowly.
......
Atsumatsu slept soundly until the afternoon.
When she woke, her complexion had improved greatly. Accompanied by her wet nurse, A, she went out back to wash up, then asked Harano to co in so she could offer thanks. She expressed her gratitude at length in a child’s voice—children in this era matured early. At only four or five years old, she already acted prim and proper, like a little adult. Her ntal maturity was downright astonishing.
Maybe it was because she was abandoned by her mother early on, and raised as an adopted daughter in soone else’s household—she beca tough because of it?
Yes, she was also from a samurai family. Her father, Shinohara Shuki Ichien, had supported Oda Nobuhide’s firstborn son, Oda Nobuhiro, as ordered by Nobuhide. He died in battle while stationed at Anxiang City in Sankei Province. Her mother, the eldest daughter of the Takehara family, remarried into the Takahata Family years ago, and at the ti sent Atsumatsu to live with her brother-in-law—in other words, she beca an adopted daughter in the Hosokawa Family, and has been there for two or three years now.
Harano exchanged a few polite words, took her pulse again—but his skills weren’t up to much, and he couldn’t really read it. So he checked her temperature, then asked her wet nurse, A, if the diarrhea had improved. Finally, he nodded. "It all looks good. Go ho and finish the rest of the dicine. Just pay a bit more attention to her diet for a while and she’ll be fine."
Wet nurse A was still wiping away tears on the side, muttering over and over, "Thank Buddha! Truly, thank Buddha!"
Her husband had been a mber of the Sasahara Family’s Lang Faction and died fighting at the small Azusazaka battlefield in Sankei. Their child had also died young. Atsumatsu was now her only support. If Atsumatsu died, she’d have nowhere left to go—most likely she’d fall to being a regular maid at Hosokawa Castle or even lose her place altogether; they wouldn’t waste food on her, and would send her away to survive on her own.
Now that Atsumatsu got her life back, it was as if A herself had been spared.
Maeda Toshie also let out a huge sigh of relief nearby. At last, he hadn’t gotten his little sister killed. Resting a hand on his sword hilt, he showed a look of utter relief.
Atsumatsu noticed, and imdiately turned her little head to him, saying softly, "Sorry, Inu Chiyoda-oniisan (Maeda Toshie’s childhood na). I made you worry."
Maeda Toshie perked up at once, patted Atsumatsu’s little head, and with a duck-like voice scolded, "As long as you know you were wrong! This ti, you really gave everyone a big scare! Get well soon, and then I’ll take you out riding again!"
Even though it was his candy that caused the problem and nearly took Atsumatsu’s life, in this era won were entirely considered male appendages; there was no way he would apologize to a woman. Atsumatsu was also used to this—she obediently agreed. She clearly liked Maeda Toshie a lot, and didn’t mind him putting her in danger at all.
Maybe it was because Maeda Toshie hadn’t been a well-behaved child before his coming-of-age. Even back then, he was already taking the path of a flamboyant dandy, and when she first arrived at Hosokawa Castle, he’d often take her out to the fields. At Atsumatsu’s lowest point in life, he had been a ray of bright sunlight—soone with a special aning to her.
Harano stood by and watched this "live-action taiga drama," his mind wandering a bit. After a while, he called Maeda Toshie out to fetch the dicine and gave him instructions on how to prepare it.
Maeda Toshie listened patiently for a while and looked around. He saw three rows of shelves made from bamboo and wood, holding more than a hundred hand-woven bamboo jars, large and small. Each jar was carefully labeled with the dicine’s na in Chinese characters. Several of the characters he didn’t recognize, and he couldn’t help revealing a look of awe—this person must be incredibly talented!
But he wasn’t skillful with words, and his vocabulary was limited. He wanted to say sothing polite, but couldn’t think of anything. Looking at these unfamiliar dicines, he recalled sothing else.
He rubbed the hilt of his sword, a little awkward. "Lord Harano, forgive , I haven’t asked yet—how much do I owe for the dicine? I was in such a hurry before and even damaged so of the dicinal herbs in your yard..."
He’d just now rembered that seeing a doctor and getting dicine costs money. He couldn’t read the dicine labels, but they looked like high-grade goods from the Ming Country, and those are usually expensive. So, speaking of money, he was inevitably sowhat guilty and embarrassed...
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