The memory of that cruel morning still burned in Zhang Wei's chest like a slow ember. The long line of people who wouldn't move. The plump doctor in his fine silk robes who looked at a dying boy and simply said "he won't make it." The way Uncle Li had knelt in the dirt, tears cutting through the dust on his face. No one had helped. No one had cared.
If no one else will treat the poor and the weak… then I will.
That quiet resolve settled deep inside him. He didn't want to become some arrogant young master from the sects. He wanted something simpler, something useful. A small clinic where anyone could come for help, no matter how much silver they had in their pocket.
The very next day, after breakfast, Zhang Wei looked at Uncle Li and Mei with steady eyes.
"Today we start preparing. I'm going to build a small clinic here. A place where we can treat people properly."
Uncle Li raised an eyebrow but didn't laugh. "A clinic? With what, lad? We barely have tools."
"We'll make what we need," Zhang Wei replied. "First, we go to the market for a good saw. Then we cut trees and gather materials. I remember how houses are built… I'll guide us."
Mei clapped her hands excitedly. "A real clinic? Can I help name it?"
They spent the morning in the village market. Uncle Li haggled hard for a sturdy handsaw and a few other simple iron tools. Zhang Wei stayed quiet, watching everything. On the way back, they already started brainstorming names.
"How about 'Greenstone Healing Hut'?" Mei suggested.
"Too plain," Uncle Li grunted. "Maybe 'Kind Heart Herbal Hall'?"
Zhang Wei smiled faintly. "We'll decide when it's finished. For now… let's just build it right."
Day 1
They headed into the forest with the new saw and axes. Zhang Wei chose straight, sturdy pines and hardwoods, marking them carefully. Using memories from his first life—old survival shows, documentaries about log cabins, and basic construction videos—he explained each step.
"First we fell the trees cleanly, then debark them while they're fresh so they dry better." He demonstrated how to use the saw and axe together, cutting notches to control the direction of the fall. The work was hard. Sweat poured down their backs as logs thudded to the ground. They also set snares and hunted small game—rabbits and birds—to keep their strength up. By evening they had a decent pile of raw logs and fresh meat for dinner.
Day 2
They began processing the wood. Uncle Li and Zhang Wei used the saw to cut logs to roughly equal lengths. They peeled the bark completely, then used drawknives (improvised from their tools) to flatten one side of some logs for the floor and foundation. Zhang Wei showed them how to notch the ends in simple saddle notches so the logs would lock together later. In the afternoon they hunted again, bringing back more wild game to roast over the fire. The work was slow and tiring, but steady.
Day 3
They started raising the structure. First, they cleared a flat spot near the house and laid a simple foundation of large flat stones they carried from the riverbank. On top of that, they placed the sill logs—the biggest ones—flattening the bottom so they sat stable. Then they began stacking the wall logs, notching each one so it fit snugly over the one below. Zhang Wei worked carefully, checking that the walls stayed level and square. The small building slowly took shape, no bigger than two rooms, with space for a treatment area and a simple storage corner.
Days 4 to 6
The work continued day after day. They added cross beams for the roof, using thinner logs lashed together with strong vines and wooden pegs. Zhang Wei split some logs into rough planks for the floor and a simple door. They thatched the roof with dried grass and leaves layered thickly to keep out rain. Mei helped by gathering moss to stuff between the logs for insulation and by bringing water and food. Every evening they hunted or cooked what they had caught—sometimes snake, sometimes rabbit—sharing simple but filling meals around the fire. The structure grew walls, then a low doorway, and finally a sturdy roof.
Day 7
By the seventh day, the small clinic stood finished. It was modest—only about ten paces long and six wide—but it looked surprisingly neat and solid. The logs fit tightly, the roof shed water well, and inside there was enough space for a simple wooden table for treatments, shelves for dried herbs, and a few mats for patients to rest. Even though it was small, it had a clean, peaceful feeling, tucked quietly beside Uncle Li's house.
Uncle Li wiped sweat from his brow and looked at their work with pride. He chuckled. "If we had sold all this wood instead… how much silver do you think we would have made, eh? Hah!"
Zhang Wei smiled back. "Probably not as much as we'll earn by using it this way, Uncle. This place will help people… and help us too."
They named it simply "Clear Spring Herbal Clinic" after a small spring nearby. Mei cheered when they hung a rough wooden sign above the door.
That afternoon, while Uncle Li and Mei rested, Zhang Wei slipped back into the forest alone to look for suitable stones. He wanted to grind some into powder to make simple ink for labeling jars and writing basic instructions.
He was searching near a rocky outcrop when he heard weak, ragged breathing.
A young woman in torn green-and-black cultivator robes leaned against a tree, one hand pressed to her side. Blood stained her clothes from deep gashes across her shoulder and abdomen. Her face was pale, lips bitten from pain. She looked like she had fought something massive and barely escaped. Her cultivation aura was faint but clearly present—she was no ordinary villager.
Zhang Wei didn't hesitate. He rushed forward and gently took her wrist, feeling her pulse. It was weak and erratic, but steady enough that she could still be saved.
"You're badly hurt," he said quietly. "Don't move too much. I can help."
Before she could protest, he supported her weight and half-carried, half-walked her back toward the house. "Mei! Uncle! Bring the best wound herbs—silverleaf fern, blood-stopping powder, and the anti-inflammatory mix! Quickly!"
They laid her carefully on the new treatment table inside the freshly built clinic. Zhang Wei washed his hands thoroughly with clean water, then began working with calm precision, his million-point Herbal Knowledge guiding every move.
First, he cleaned the wounds with boiled water mixed with mild antiseptic herbs to remove dirt and prevent infection. He checked for any foreign debris, carefully removing small splinters of what looked like beast claws. Then he applied a poultice made from mashed silverleaf fern combined with dried yarrow and a bit of frankincense-like resin they had gathered earlier. This mixture helped stop bleeding, reduce swelling, and fight infection—classic external wound treatment from traditional methods.
He wrapped the deeper gashes with clean cloth strips soaked in a decoction of healing herbs, then gently pressed to promote circulation without causing more pain. For the external trauma, he used a simple salve of crushed herbs known for promoting granulation tissue and faster skin repair. The woman winced but stayed conscious, watching him with hazy, surprised eyes.
It took nearly an hour of careful work. When he finally stepped back, the bleeding had stopped, the wounds were cleaned and dressed, and her breathing had become steadier.
Zhang Wei wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and exhaled. "She should rest now. The herbs will do their job."
He walked out of the small clinic, leaving the wounded cultivator to sleep under Mei's watchful eye.
That evening, Mei and Uncle Li had already prepared a simple dinner—roasted wild game and herbs from the garden. They sat together at the table, the smell of food filling the house.
Mei couldn't wait any longer. "What happened in the forest? You came back carrying someone!"
Zhang Wei took a bite, then told them calmly. "I found a young woman from the cultivation world. She was badly injured, like she had fought a powerful beast and barely escaped. I brought her back and treated her wounds in the new clinic. She should be better by tomorrow if the herbs work well."
Mei's eyes sparkled with excitement. "A real cultivator?! Was she beautiful? Did she fly or use qi? Tell me everything!"
Uncle Li looked concerned but also proud. "You did good, lad. That clinic already has its first patient. Just… be careful. The cultivation world can be dangerous."
Zhang Wei nodded, a small smile on his face. "I know. But if we can help even one person who others would ignore… then it's worth it."
The night settled quietly over the small house and the new clinic. Inside, the wounded cultivator slept soundly for the first time in days. Outside, the forest whispered in the wind.
Zhang Wei lay on his mat later, staring at the ceiling. The clinic was just the beginning. He had a long road ahead, but for the first time, he felt like he was walking it with purpose.
And somewhere in the dark, the system window flickered faintly, as if waiting for the next moment to reveal more.