Mrs. Wei pushed open the back door, braving the cold morning wind to take a look outside. Sure enough, Chun Mian was already crouching in the field.
Even though the village had grown extremely cold after the onset of winter, most of Chun Mian's herbs were quite hardy against the frost. The ones that couldn't withstand the cold had already been transplanted into old, battered pots and moved indoors.
After tending to the plants all morning, Chun Mian used seeds, stems, and leaves to rapidly cultivate a few more stalks of the specific herbs she needed. Applying the ointment to Third Uncle Wei yesterday had used up quite a bit of her stock, so she would have to rush to make a few more boxes today.
Third Uncle Wei hadn't run a fever the night before. When he woke up this morning, his spirits were so high that he hardly looked like an injured man. Aside from some lingering physical pain, he was doing incredibly well.
