Chapter 48: High Fever

So hot! If he doesn’t get to the hospital soon, the fever will do serious harm.

“Wait a moment!” Zhou Yimin hurried back inside.

He purchased a small bottle of alcohol from the shop in his mind. Ideally, he would have bought fever-reducing medicine directly, but since none was available at the moment, he had to settle for this.

By the time he came back out, his grandparents had also woken up in the dark.

“Oh dear! With a fever this high, you should use cold water to pat his forehead!” Grandma advised with experience.

This was a form of physical cooling, which was indeed effective.

Strictly speaking, Zhou Yimin bringing out alcohol was based on the same principle.

“We’ve already tried that. It didn’t help much.”

In the countryside, people had their own ways of dealing with illness. They only sought doctors when home remedies failed. If they had to go to the hospital, it meant the situation was serious.

Zhou Yimin handed over the small bottle of alcohol. “Use this to rub down the child’s body to help bring down the fever. Otherwise, he might be in serious danger before you even reach the hospital. Just be careful—don’t apply it to the chest or stomach.”

No one questioned him. After all, Zhou Yimin had grown up in the city and was well-educated. He knew more than they did, so his advice must be sound.

“It’s cool—it’s working!” Zhou Dashun exclaimed in surprise.

Zhou Yimin brought over his bicycle. “Can you ride?”

The family froze, suddenly realizing they didn’t actually know how. In their panic earlier, they had only remembered that Zhou Yimin had a bicycle, which would get them to town faster.

Alright then! Seeing their expressions, Zhou Yimin understood.

“You carry him on your back and sit behind me. Sixteenth Uncle, I’ll have to trouble you.”

Zhou Dashun quickly nodded, tied his son securely to his back, and sat on the rear seat of the bicycle.

“Hold on tight!” Zhou Yimin called out before pedaling forward with all his strength.

Seeing her son being taken to the hospital, Zhou Dashun’s wife immediately knelt before Zhou Yimin’s grandparents, kowtowing in gratitude.

“Oh dear! Get up! What are you doing?”

Normally, it would take Zhou Yimin about two hours to bike into town, but this time, he made it in just over an hour, stopping directly in front of the hospital.

Zhou Dashun rushed inside with his son, shouting as he ran.

The doctor wasted no time in examining the child.

“What kind of parents are you? Bringing him in with such a high fever—if you had delayed any longer, you’d regret it for life! Did you apply alcohol? At least that part was handled well.” The doctor scolded them immediately after checking the child.

Zhou Dashun smiled bitterly and explained, “We’re from Zhoujia Village—it’s quite far away. We got here as fast as we could.”

At the same time, he felt relieved—thank goodness Sixteenth Uncle happened to be in the village.

“Alright, go pay the fee!” The doctor didn’t bother lecturing further.

Zhou Dashun patted his pockets and suddenly realized he had rushed out in such a hurry that he hadn’t brought any money.

Zhou Yimin handed him 10 yuan.

“Go ahead. Pay me back when we’re back in the village.”

He sat down nearby, exhausted—his legs were still shaky from all the pedaling.

“Thank you, Sixteenth Uncle.”

Zhou Dashun took the money and hurried off to pay. The total fee was 4 yuan. That wasn’t much for Zhou Yimin, but for a rural family that earned labor points, it wasn’t a small sum.

For someone like Zhou Dashun, who made around 40 yuan a year, a single fever had already cost nearly a tenth of his income.

Ordinary fevers wouldn’t cost much, but his son’s case was more severe.

By dawn, the child’s condition had stabilized. The high fever had subsided into a regular one, and he could recover at home with some medicine.

Since that was the case, Zhou Dashun naturally wouldn’t waste money on hospital admission. He immediately strapped his son to his back, ready to head home.

Zhou Yimin treated them to breakfast—steamed buns and soy milk. As for the much-talked-about “douzhi” (fermented mung bean juice), whoever liked it could have it—Zhou Yimin personally found it undrinkable.

“Eat up! Eat more—no need to be polite. I won’t be heading back to the village with you later, but you can take the bus.”

Noticing that Zhou Dashun only took one bun and stopped himself from grabbing another, Zhou Yimin knew he was being self-conscious.

At that time, there were buses going to the outskirts, but none went directly to Zhoujia Village. The final stop was the well-known Hongxing Commune.

The bus system was interesting. The conductor held a small clipboard in the left hand with four stacks of tickets, and a red-blue pencil in the right hand, which was tied to a rubber band. To sell a ticket, they would mark it with the red pencil, flick the rubber band, and tear off a ticket.

The tickets came in red, green, yellow, and blue, with values of 5 cents, 10 cents, 15 cents, and 20 cents, respectively.

They were narrow and small, only about 2 cm wide and 6 cm long. Since the paper was thin and easy to lose, some people would habitually stick the ticket to their lips for safekeeping, making it easy for the conductor to see.

“Sixteenth Uncle, one is enough for me.” Zhou Dashun smiled sheepishly.

Then, responding to the previous suggestion, he added, “No need for the bus—I’ll carry him back. It won’t take too long; we’ll be home before noon.”

A bus ride? That costs money!

He had heard that a ticket to Hongxing Commune cost 20 cents.

For a full day’s work in the village, he couldn’t even earn that much.

Zhou Yimin shook his head. “You really shouldn’t save a few cents here. The road is long—even if you can handle it, can your son? If his fever worsens again, it’ll cost you far more than a few cents.”

Sure enough, a child was a parent’s weakness.

Hearing this, Zhou Dashun hesitated. He was genuinely worried that if his son’s condition worsened, it would cost much more than a bus fare.

After weighing the pros and cons, he finally decided to follow Sixteenth Uncle’s advice and take the bus.

Zhou Yimin actually had a monthly bus pass, but it was a student ticket and couldn’t be used by others. It also had his photo on it.

A monthly pass allowed unlimited rides on city buses and trolleybuses. Passengers just had to show it to the conductor when getting off.

Zhou Yimin stood up. “Alright, take the leftovers with you. Later, walk down this street to the photo studio at the corner—that’s where the bus stop is.

Oh, and when you get back to the village, tell my grandparents I might not return today.”

“Got it, Sixteenth Uncle!”

After Zhou Yimin left, Zhou Dashun gave his son another bun and saved the remaining two to bring home for his other children.

As he cycled away, Zhou Yimin checked what new items had refreshed in the shop’s 1-yuan section today.

A hundred catties of taro and a hundred catties of dried fish.

Today’s selection was pretty average. Neither taro nor dried fish was particularly valuable.

Taro was rich in starch and could be a staple in some places. People in the south especially loved it. Zhou Yimin himself enjoyed taro steamed with pork belly.

The dried fish was made from horse mackerel, a species commonly found along China’s coast, especially in the south.

In later years, horse mackerel would become a prized fatty fish, difficult to find due to overfishing. But in this era, even large yellow croakers weren’t considered rare—reports said they were abundant in Zhejiang and Fujian, covering the sea surface in dense schools during fishing season.

(End of chapter)