At the end of Sui, Emperor Yang was tyrannical and incompetent, the world was in great chaos, rebellions broke out in various places, beacons were lit everywhere, after the war, the Tang Dynasty was established, and the land of China was peaceful again.

  Spring goes and autumn comes, flowers bloom and fall, Emperor Li Shimin has been in power for twenty years, the Zhenguan governance is also nearing its end, the heroes who once wore armor and held sharp weapons have become old, but the Tang Empire has shown vigorous vitality, the imperial capital has endless prosperity, countless winds.

  To talk about prosperity, without mentioning the capital Chang'an, let's just mention Xuzhou in northern Jiangsu. Xuzhou was anciently known as Pengcheng, one of the nine states of Huaxia, located at a strategic point, with the reputation of being the key to the north and the gateway to the south, and also having the saying that nine dynasties had emperors from Xuzhou, with a dense population and merchants gathering.

  Outside the city of Xuzhou, five miles away, there is a small village called Wulicun. It is said that this village was originally called Wangjiacun, and the surname Wang was the most common in the village. However, during the Sui dynasty, Emperor Yang sent troops to conquer Goguryeo, and Xuzhou had always been known for producing heroes. When the country raised an army, how could the men of the city not join? As the troops departed, family members saw them off again and again, sending them off as far as five miles away. Eventually, they had to part ways outside Wangjiacun, so the people of Xuzhou began calling it Wulicun. Over time, this became its official name.

  Wulicun village has over a hundred households, except for one household, the rest are all tenant farmers, who work on the land of this family. This family is surnamed Wang, with Wang Youcai as the head of the household, married to Yang Shi and having a son named Wang Ping'an. The family owns hundreds of hectares of good farmland, although not ranking first among the wealthy families in Xuzhou, they are definitely among the top ten.

  Wang Youcai was over 40 when he finally had a son, whom he named Ping'an. Now 16 years old, the entire Wang household has always doted on him like a precious gem. However, this child has been frail since birth, often falling ill at the slightest provocation. This year, with the unpredictable spring weather, he contracted dysentery. Many doctors were consulted and numerous medicinal soups consumed, but his condition only worsened, leaving him increasingly weak to the point of being on death's door.

  Wang Youcai and Yang were so anxious that they were foaming at the mouth, and Yang cried three times a day, seeking death. They were both over 50 years old, approaching 60, and it was impossible for them to have another child. With their son dead, the Wang family would inevitably become extinct, how could they not be heartbroken?

  The front yard of the Wang's residence had been noisy these days, but the backyard was very quiet. In the garden, beside the pond, there was a huge study. Inside the study, a thin and weak young man lay on the bed, with an old woman in her fifties sitting beside him.

  In a daze, Wang Ping'an's consciousness gradually cleared up. Before he opened his eyes, he first smelled a faint fragrance in his nose. He wrinkled his nose and identified it as the scent of sandalwood, which was of high quality and extremely valuable. The fragrance was delicate but not dense, sweet but not greasy. His family had also lit sandalwood incense before, but the smell was far inferior to this one now.

  His eyelids felt heavy, and he couldn't open them no matter what. However, his ears picked up a murmur of words that seemed to be a woman's voice praying for something, but the specific content was unclear to him.

  Wang Ping'an wanted to move, but found his body weak and powerless. His heart suddenly shook violently - what's wrong with me? What disease do I have? Wasn't I just admiring the moon outside the small hotel? How could I suddenly fall ill?

  His eyelids suddenly opened, and the face that entered his eyes was a round white face. It was a familiar yet strange face, belonging to an old woman!

  "Oh dear, my child is awake, thank the Buddha, thank the Buddha!" The old woman's face broke into a smile as she gazed lovingly at Wang Ping'an and gently stroked his forehead.

  Wang Ping'an felt a wave of dizziness, and suddenly, a familiar yet strange memory burst forth in his mind. The amount of memories was too great, and he couldn't bear it for the time being. He closed his eyes again and fainted once more!

  "Be safe, be safe, don't scare me to death!" The old woman cried out, hugging Wang Ping'an's head and bursting into tears.

  In the darkness, Wang Pingan's subconscious discovered that he had become another person. Although this person was also called Wang Pingan, he was a 16-year-old Tang Dynasty young master from a wealthy family, with loving parents and servants at his beck and call. He even had a child bride. This person loved to read and had been inseparable from books since childhood, transforming his bedroom into a study filled with tens of thousands of volumes...

  And now, this person is himself, he is no longer the modern Wang Ping'an, but the Tang Dynasty's Wang Ping'an!

  Could it be, could I have crossed over? I've come from the modern era to ancient times? Wang Ping An opened his eyes again, looking at the old woman in front of him with tear stains on her face. He moved his dry throat and said in a low voice: "Mother?" According to the memories he had just obtained, this person was his mother Yang Shi in this life.

  Yang was both shocked and delighted. Her son had been ill, unable to speak since the day before yesterday. As a mother, she didn't know how many tears she had shed or how many times she had prayed to Buddha. Now that her son woke up and could still call out "mother", she was overjoyed. She took out her handkerchief and wiped away tears again, but this time they were tears of joy.

  Wang Ping anxiously thought: "I must be ill, but I don't know what illness it is, and there's no such thing in my memory." He raised his hand, gently pressed on his neck, and took his pulse. His tongue rolled around in his mouth, full of bitterness.

  His medical skills are superb, and now this new body is not suffering from any difficult or complicated illness. With just a blink of an eye, he can determine the cause of the disease, which is nothing but dysentery. In the Tang Dynasty, this kind of disease could be fatal, but in modern times, he can easily come up with over a dozen prescriptions to cure it. His nickname "Little Divine Doctor" is not undeserved.

  "Mother, son this is...this is dysentery or typhoid fever, right?" Wang Ping'an asked in a low voice, although it had already been diagnosed, but after all, it was a new body, he still asked.

  Yang nodded hastily and said, "That's right, it's indeed dysentery. The famous doctor from Jisheng Hall said so too, and he even prescribed medicine for you. My son took it and will get better soon!" She forced a smile to comfort her son, but in her heart, she was anxious. He had been ill for over a month, taking dozens of doses of medicine, yet there was no sign of improvement. On the contrary, his condition worsened day by day. Her faith in Doctor Cheng was shaken, and she even thought that if the medicine didn't work, they might as well invite a shaman to perform an exorcism ritual.

  Once it's confirmed as dysentery, it'll be easy to handle. Wang Ping's mind suddenly came up with several quick prescriptions, and he said: "Mother, can you bring me the prescription?"

  Yang was taken aback, not understanding why her son wanted to see the prescription, but since he did, she let him, got up and left the study room, said a few words, and asked the servant waiting outside to bring the prescription. She turned around and returned to the bedside, truly inseparable from her son, loving Wang Ping'an to the extreme.

  Before long, footsteps sounded outside the study, and a large group of people came in, led by a man who was similar in age to Yang, also over 50 years old, wearing a purple satin robe, it was Wang Ping'an's father Wang Youcai. Behind Wang Youcai followed a large number of servants, they heard that Wang Ping'an woke up, and they all rushed to see him.

  Wang Youcai entered the study and asked, "Has Ping'an woken up?" He walked to the bedside, lowered his head to look at Wang Ping'an, and saw that his son was also looking at him. His heart felt a great relief, and he said, "Amitabha, it's good that you've woken up, it's good that you've woken up."

  "Wang Ping softly called out: 'Father!'"

  King Youcai's face lit up with joy, sat down beside Yang, gently patted Wang Ping'an's arm and said: "Good, good, can speak, great, great!" Emotions were stirred, affection overflowing from his words.

  Yang said: "Son wants to see the prescription, did you bring it?"

  "Here it is! I've brought all the prescriptions!" Wang Youcai beckoned with his hand, and a servant promptly delivered the prescriptions.

  Wang Ping'an struggled to sit up, and Yang gave him a pillow to support his back, helping him lean against the bed frame. She said softly, "Sit for a while, lying in bed all day will give you bedsores."

  Wang Ping'an took the prescription and looked at the first few pages, shaking his head slightly. These prescriptions were similar, although not written by the same person, but they were all too simple. The main medicines were mostly rhubarb, mirabilite, gypsum, and anemarrhena, and the dosage was not small. A strong and healthy person would be fine taking them, but a weak person might be harmed. Among these prescriptions, only one was suitable for the symptoms, with more medicines, including scutellaria, coptis, and phellodendron. If treated according to the prescription for dysentery, the symptoms would alleviate after several doses.

  He waved the prescription in his hand and said, "This prescription is quite good, why doesn't it seem to be effective?"

  Wang Youcai exclaimed and asked: "Son, can you read prescriptions?"

  Wang Ping'an nodded and casually pointed to the study, where there were tens of thousands of books. It was impossible to determine which one was a medical book, and he randomly pointed, guessing that others would not be able to verify it either.

  As expected, Wang Youcai and Yang nodded in unison. They had both attended private schools and recognized some characters, but they were only elementary readers, far inferior to Wang Ping'an's love of reading. The books in the study were also bought by Wang Ping'an, and they just spent money without looking at them, so Wang Ping'an randomly pointed, and they all thought Wang Ping'an had really read medical books, and didn't ask further questions.

  "Wang Youcai said: 'My son has read countless books, and when you recover from your illness, I will send you to Chang'an to take the imperial examination and become a scholar-official. This will bring glory to our Wang family!'"

  Yang looked at him with a white eye and said, "Things in the future will be discussed in the future. Son, this prescription was given by Cheng Shen Yi, if you say it's effective, then it must be good. Alas, if we had invited Cheng Shen Yi to see the illness a month earlier, you wouldn't have suffered so much."

  Wang Pingan was stunned, and hastily asked: "How is this possible? This prescription wasn't the one I used when I first got sick, but rather the one I used a month after falling ill?" His hand holding the prescription trembled. If that were truly the case, then this prescription wouldn't be a lifesaving remedy, but a deadly poison! The prescriptions used at the onset of illness and those used a month later couldn't possibly be the same!

  Yang nodded and said, "Yes. At first, we were looking for another doctor, but these people's medical skills are too poor, they can't cure my son, so your father went into the city to find a divine doctor, only then did we get this prescription, is there anything wrong with it?"

  Wang Ping'an threw the prescription on the ground and snorted: "This is indeed a quack doctor killing people without using a knife!" What kind of divine doctor would prescribe this, it's impossible to become a divine doctor, becoming a mediocre doctor is still far-fetched.