Chapter 067: This Is Ascariasis

Rice Blossom Village and Saltpeter Village were neighboring communities. If you set out on foot from Liu Xing’s house, it would take only ten or twenty minutes to reach the other village. That was by following the main road; if you took a shortcut, it was merely a matter of climbing over a hill and you’d be there.

Due to their geographical location, Rice Blossom Village was not prosperous, much like Saltpeter Village. If there was anything the village was famous for, it was the sheer number of bachelors—well-known throughout the whole Zhangmu Township.

Liu Xing’s sixth aunt, Liu Qiuyuan, married into Rice Blossom Village. Her life had been decent at first, but after her husband Kang Fuchuan fell ill with a mysterious sickness two years ago, their fortunes declined rapidly. Now, in order to pay for his treatment, they had sold everything in the house that could be sold, and yet Kang Fuchuan’s strange illness showed no sign of improvement.

Liu Xing knew the story behind it, and he knew his sixth uncle would become gravely ill and die in 1985. His aunt had wept bitterly then; if not for her concern for her two children, she might have followed him.

This was why Liu Xing volunteered to help his sixth aunt’s family plow their fields—not only out of concern for his father’s health, but also because his aunt’s son, Kang Hu, was his childhood friend and closest companion. They had spent over ten years working together in the coastal regions. In fact, his bond with Kang Hu was even deeper than with Liu Ye.

Later, Kang Hu got into trouble, assaulted someone, and after being imprisoned, disappeared without a trace. Now that Liu Xing was reborn, he was determined to help Kang Hu if he could.

In Liu Xing’s memory, Kang Hu was a chubby boy, solid and strong, earning him the nickname “Fat Hu Squat.” But now, he couldn't recall whether Kang Hu was still fat in his youth; after all, it had been over ten years since he last saw him, and the impression was vague.

As he approached the earth-brick house nestled in the mountain hollow, Liu Xing tightened the ox rope and urged the black calf to quicken its pace. Before he arrived, he spotted a middle-aged woman waiting anxiously at the crossroads.

She was dressed in patched black clothes, wearing straw sandals caked in mud. Her face was dark and weathered, resembling a refugee from Africa. She was Liu Xing’s sixth aunt, Liu Qiuyuan.

Seeing her again, Liu Xing was startled. In his childhood memories, his sixth aunt was beautiful. Matchmakers had nearly worn out the threshold of his grandfather’s house, including several from the city; some of the families seeking her were government employees. Yet, she had resolutely chosen the rural schoolteacher, Kang Fuchuan, as her husband. It was a celebrated story in the sixties. But now, seeing her like this, he couldn’t help but sigh.

“Liu Xing, why have you brought the black calf here?” Liu Qiuyuan greeted him, holding his hand and asking gently.

“My father was helping repair the village canal earlier and hasn’t eaten yet!” Liu Xing smiled. “Are you looking down on me, aunt? I’m pretty good at plowing, you know.”

“Of course not,” Liu Qiuyuan replied, laughing. “Have you eaten? If not, I’ll cook something for you.”

“I’ve eaten!” Seeing the uneven country road ahead, Liu Xing took off the ox rope and shouldered the iron plow, following her toward the fields. “Take me to the farmland, aunt. Once I finish plowing, I’ll head home.”

“Alright! But you must stay for dinner after helping, or your mother will complain,” she insisted.

“No worries,” Liu Xing set down the plow and glanced around the earth-brick house. “By the way, where’s Kang Hu? Isn’t he home?”

“He’s inside, looking after your uncle,” Liu Qiuyuan sighed.

“I’ll go see uncle and Kang Hu,” Liu Xing handed her the ox rope, set down the plow, and headed straight for the house.

Liu Qiuyuan didn’t follow. Instead, she led the black calf to the kitchen door and fed it rice bran mixed with wild greens.

To her, nothing could be allowed to shortchange the plowing ox. She still felt guilty about having to sell the family’s ox earlier.

Unexpectedly, Liu Xing soon came out of the house, supporting her husband Kang Fuchuan, with Kang Hu trailing behind.

“What happened?” Liu Qiuyuan thought his illness had worsened and hurried over.

“Aunt, uncle’s illness is very serious—why haven’t you taken him to see a doctor?” Liu Xing frowned. “Judging by the ‘worm nests’ on his face and his thin body with a swollen belly, I suspect his stomach is full of roundworms and other parasites.”

Liu Xing wasn’t a doctor, but decades of experience told him the pale patches and white hair circles on his uncle’s face were worm nests, a symptom of roundworm infection. Meaning, his uncle’s sickness wasn’t incurable—just untreated.

Perhaps as a teenager he wouldn’t have noticed, but now he was nearly certain.

“That can’t be! Last year, Dr. Ma from the village gave him several worm tablets, but they had no effect at all—no worms came out,” Liu Qiuyuan protested.

“There’s nothing impossible about it,” Liu Xing shook his head.

In the early eighties, worm tablets were considered miracle cures; they worked well. Whenever a child had stomach pains, adults would buy some from the village barefoot doctor.

Liu Xing still remembered the disgust of seeing worms expelled after taking the tablets. But he knew that in those times, with scarce medicine, roundworm infections were common—not just in children, but adults too.

For severe cases, just a few tablets weren’t enough. Only a stronger dose would have immediate effect.

Now, it seemed his uncle had encountered a negligent doctor, or perhaps his aunt, struggling financially, hadn’t sought better treatment, letting the illness drag on until it worsened.

Seeing his aunt still skeptical, Liu Xing asked, “Aunt, since uncle got sick, does he crave raw sweet potatoes, and even prefers raw cabbage?”

“How did you know?” she was stunned. “He eats ten raw sweet potatoes a day! If I cook them or make porridge, he can’t eat it and will vomit.”

“Then I’m right—his stomach is full of roundworms,” Liu Xing said urgently. “If he doesn’t get them removed, they’ll bore holes in his gut.”

“But—but… we don’t have money for a doctor!” Liu Qiuyuan knew Liu Xing wouldn’t scare her without cause, and she began to cry in distress.

“Mom!” Kang Hu’s eyes reddened with sorrow.

“How much does it cost to treat roundworms?” Liu Xing glanced at the sky. “How about this: I’ll use the black calf to carry uncle to Dr. Ma in your village and ask him to prescribe a strong medicine to expel the worms.”

“As for the money, I’ll handle it,” he added after a pause.

“I won’t go,” Kang Fuchuan, unsteady, finally spoke.

“What’s wrong?” Liu Xing pressed.

“My father still owes Dr. Ma from last year; if we go, we’ll probably be chased out,” Kang Hu admitted, embarrassed.

“How much do you owe?” Liu Xing asked, puzzled. Dr. Ma was competent—how could he fail to cure a simple roundworm infection? If uncle’s illness was cured, surely they could pay the medical fees.

“Eighteen yuan,” Liu Qiuyuan whispered.

For their family, eighteen yuan was a fortune.

Liu Xing didn’t ask further. He sensed something was off about Dr. Ma’s character; in the eighties, treating roundworms shouldn’t cost much—sometimes just a few coins. If they went to him now, his uncle might suffer further.

After some thought, Liu Xing said, “Aunt, let’s go to Dr. Wang in Saltpeter Village. He’s my father’s classmate and will surely give us a discount on the medical fees.”

“Well…” Liu Qiuyuan looked at Kang Fuchuan.

Kang Fuchuan didn’t answer, but his silence showed he was tempted, though embarrassed by their lack of money.

Seeing this, Liu Xing took the black calf to Kang Fuchuan. “No more discussion—let’s go to Dr. Wang’s house. I’ll pay the fee, and if it’s not enough, I’ll find a way.”

“Black calf, lie down!” Liu Xing stroked the animal’s neck.

Moo!

The black calf bellowed, then obediently knelt before Kang Fuchuan.

This startled Kang Hu, who rubbed his eyes, thinking he’d imagined it.

“Go on! Nothing matters as long as your illness can be cured,” Liu Qiuyuan, surprised, urged her husband.

“Alright!” Kang Fuchuan mounted the calf’s back.

Liu Xing took the rope. “Aunt, my cousin and I are heading to Dr. Wang. Before we go, could you answer a question for me?”

“Go ahead,” she wiped her tears.

“In my opinion, any decent doctor should recognize roundworm symptoms. If Dr. Ma couldn’t, didn’t you consult anyone else these past two years?” Liu Xing asked.

“Well… no, actually,” Liu Qiuyuan sighed.

The reason was simple: they had no money. If they had, they would’ve gone straight to a city hospital. In rural areas in the eighties, many people avoided hospitals for fear of the cost. Compared to those with terminal illnesses, her family’s situation seemed better.

“Alright! Damn that Dr. Ma,” Liu Xing muttered inwardly. He led the black calf, with Kang Hu following, toward Dr. Wang’s house.

He knew his aunt wouldn’t lie; if they’d gone to a hospital or found a good doctor, the roundworm infection wouldn’t have dragged on so long. The only explanation was that Dr. Ma had played tricks.

“Come back early,” Liu Qiuyuan called after them.

“Got it,” Kang Hu waved without turning.

Once they were far from home, Kang Hu asked quietly, “Brother, is my father’s illness really roundworm?”

“Yes,” Liu Xing nodded.

“And it can be cured?” Kang Hu was excited.

“Of course,” Liu Xing replied confidently.

Kang Fuchuan, hearing this, fell silent. Before his illness, he was a teacher—he knew what roundworm infection was. If you had roundworms, one tablet would expel them.

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