〈Romance of An-ping: Miss
Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉28

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Shayun Engages in the Treatment of Smallpox

136
In the afternoon sunlight of England, Junsheng’s home was filled with a warm atmosphere. The candlelight in the living room flickered, and the golden light streaming through the curtains dyed every corner of the interior decoration with a soft hue. The table was laden with abundant dishes, and the chairs around the dining table were arranged in a circle; both hosts and guests were joyful, and the atmosphere was relaxed and heartwarming.

Vianna busied herself by the dining table, her smile warm and her tone friendly: “Williams, I didn’t expect that your bride would turn out to be Junsheng’s daughter.” She picked up a steaming plate of roast chicken as she joked.

Williams sat at the table, smiling slightly, with a gaze that carried both helplessness and delight: “I suppose this must be the will of God, right?” He lowered his head to glance at Xiuyan, as if marveling at the wondrous arrangement of fate.

Xiuyan sat beside him, her fingers lightly playing with the napkin, her eyes flickering with a trace of complex emotion. She raised her head and smiled faintly: “Perhaps. Fate always has a way of bringing us together in the most unexpected manner.”

Junsheng’s gaze focused on them, and he suddenly asked: “Williams, you two will return to Dayuan Port, right?” His tone carried a touch of concern, seemingly curious about the future plans of the newlyweds.

Williams nodded, his tone calm yet resolute: “Yes. After seeing my parents, I will accompany Xiuyan back there and settle down. ” His voice was full of hope for the future, and his eyes glimmered with a certain longing for home.

Junsheng’s expression softened; he wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled lightly: “Then I can go with you. I should go see Shayun.” His tone carried a hint of nostalgia as well as some guilt.

Vianna lifted her head, concern glimmering in her eyes, and looked at Junsheng: “Junsheng, why don’t we all go together?” Her tone was gentle, seemingly considering the possibility of the whole family going together.

Junsheng shook his head lightly, a trace of helplessness in his voice: “Not yet. This trip is to apologize to Shayun; I wronged her.” He lowered his head, taking a deep breath, his expression solemn, as if recalling past mistakes.

Xiuyan, upon hearing this, gently held Junsheng’s hand, her tone offering some comfort: “Sama, with this heart of yours, the grievances I, Sena, have suffered over these twenty years finally have some recompense.” Her voice was soft, tinged with a trace of firmness, and her eyes glistened faintly with tears.

Junsheng lifted his head, hands clasped together, his expression sorrowful and sincere, and he sighed softly: “I owe you both too much, alas!” His tone was filled with remorse, as if wanting to make amends for all wrongs in this fleeting moment.

Seeing this, Vianna smiled slightly, her tone carrying a touch of ease and humor: “Let’s not bring up sad matters during the meal; otherwise, we won’t taste the food’s flavor.” She reached to place a plate of vividly colored vegetables on the table, her gaze warm as she looked at everyone, hoping that a meal could relieve the heaviness in the air.

Williams also gently patted Xiuyan’s hand, his eyes tender: “Vianna is right. Today, we should set the past aside and enjoy this rare family gathering.” His words were filled with anticipation for the future, seemingly ready to face the life ahead with Xiuyan.

At this moment, the dining table’s atmosphere returned to a relaxed state, laughter and conversation intertwined, and the dishes on the table appeared especially enticing. The air was filled with the warmth of family reunion. Everyone, in this afternoon, temporarily set aside the burdens in their hearts, enjoying the time spent together.

137
Inside Junsheng’s clinic, the air was filled with a faint smell of herbs and disinfectant, and the atmosphere was unusually tense. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting mottled shadows that illuminated the bustling waiting room. Among the patients coming and going, there were local villagers as well as some foreign merchants, their faces pale and expressions anxious, constantly whispering to one another.

In the waiting area, a middle-aged man paced impatiently, his face full of anxiety and unease. He could not help but ask: “When will it be my turn?” His tone was urgent, his eyes scanning the doors of the treatment rooms continuously.

Kali stood in the corner, fingers lightly tapping on the table, his tone calm yet authoritative: “Everyone, please remain calm. The doctor will see each patient one by one. Please keep quiet; when it is your turn, the doctor will call you.” As his words fell, a few patients in the waiting room quieted slightly, but anxious gazes still lingered on the doors of the consultation rooms.

Inside the consultation room, the situation was even tenser. Shayun was examining a foreign patient whose body was covered with dense blisters, causing pain almost everywhere. Shayun gently held his wrist, his fingertips lightly touching the skin, his brows slightly furrowed. Ali, Lalu, and Bosmen assisted nearby, the atmosphere tense, and every movement careful and deliberate.

Ali stood to the side, his face serious, his tone questioning: “Shayun, how can this disease spread so quickly? We didn’t even have time to react, and already so many people are infected.”

Shayun raised his head, a trace of worry in his eyes, his tone firm: “This is clearly a highly contagious disease, possibly airborne. I have already notified the church to send people to help handle it.” He turned to Ali: “You go to the church and ask Bishop Matthews to come; we need their help to accommodate the patients.”

Ali nodded, his tone urgent: “I’ll go to the church immediately.” He turned to leave, but Shayun suddenly called him back.

Shayun held Ali’s arm firmly, his tone low but earnest: “Before going out, remember to wipe your hands and face with alcohol cotton to protect yourself.” His tone carried a hint of an unmistakable warning.

Ali nodded lightly, a trace of gratitude in his eyes, and then turned to enter the dispensary. He quickly retrieved alcohol cotton from a metal box and carefully wiped his hands and face. Each time he wiped, his movements grew more careful; each layer of alcohol cotton served as a barrier, protecting himself from this unknown disease.

Lalu’s voice interrupted Shayun’s thoughts; she hurried into the consultation room, her tone anxious: “Shayun, the wards and backyard are already full of beds! We can’t accommodate any more patients!” She stood beside Shayun, anxiously looking at the increasing number of patients on the beds.

Shayun raised his head slightly, a trace of fatigue in his eyes, and softly replied: “I’ve already sent Ali to the church to seek Bishop Matthews’ help. Hopefully, he can send people to assist in accommodating the patients.” He reached for a bottle of medicine, carefully pouring it into a vial.

Lalu remained worried, her tone urgent: “Should we ask the nuns below to come help? We need more hands.” Her hands were crossed over her chest, her brows tightly furrowed.

Shayun shook his head, an expression of helplessness on his face: “No. The nuns are untrained in medical care; this would only increase the risk of infection.” His voice was firm and calm, yet carried a subtle anxiety.

Lalu lowered her head, sighing helplessly, then again looked toward the nearly overcrowded beds in the consultation room. Her tone intensified slightly: “Then how can we keep up? Every patient needs care; how can we manage if this continues?”

Shayun took a deep breath, slowly put down the bottle, and then fixed her gaze with determination: “We can only do our best, Lalu. Until I find a way to treat this infectious disease.” Her tone carried unwavering resolve, her eyes filled with longing for the future and a sense of responsibility toward the patients.

Bosmen stepped forward, gently patting Shayun on the shoulder, his tone full of concern and worry: “Shayun, you must take care of your own health. If you collapse, we will be completely helpless!” His voice was serious, his expression grave.

Shayun smiled wryly, shaking her head slightly, and softly responded: “I will pay attention to my health, Bosmen. Don’t worry; I won’t let myself fall.” Her eyes contained unyielding perseverance, as if no difficulty could make her succumb.

With Shayun’s words, the atmosphere in the clinic once again became tense. Everyone was searching for their role in this sudden disaster, and Shayun’s persistence undoubtedly became a guiding light in their hearts.

138
In the reception room of Junsheng’s clinic, the candlelight flickered with faint radiance, casting shadows of every person present. On the surrounding walls hung charts of medicinal herbs and diagnostic documents, and the air was permeated with a faint scent of herbs, mingled with a subtle undercurrent of anxiety. Bishop Matthews’ footsteps echoed across the wooden floor as he paced anxiously back and forth, his expression troubled; he would occasionally pause, stroking his chin with his hand, then resume walking. His brows were tightly furrowed, clearly revealing the unease within him.

Matthews frequently glanced out the window, seemingly attempting to seek some comfort from the outside view, yet when he turned back, his eyes were still filled with worry: “I never imagined that this infectious disease, which is rampant across the European continent, would be brought here by sailors and foreign merchants!” His tone was low, unable to fully confront the cruel reality.

Shayan sat by the table, holding an unopened letter in her hands, her expression calm yet faintly weary. She raised her head, her gaze clear and determined: “I am searching for a way to treat this infectious disease, but in truth, I have no certainty.” Her tone conveyed a hint of helplessness, yet it did not lose composure.

Hearing this, Matthews sighed lightly, approaching Shayan, placing his palm gently on her shoulder, his tone consoling: “Shayan, do not place too much pressure on yourself! This disease has been rampant across the European continent for several centuries. Even with Europe’s advanced scientific civilization and medical technology, there is still no specific cure or feasible treatment.” His voice contained a trace of helplessness, as if he too could offer little assistance.

Shayan drew a deep breath and nodded, yet her gaze remained firm, as though silently making a promise for herself and her patients: “I understand, but there are already patients who have died from complications. The clinic’s beds and backyard are packed with patients, unable to accommodate any more, and these patients must be appropriately isolated. Therefore, I ask you to come and help manage this.” Her tone became firmer, as if challenging fate itself.

Matthews nodded slightly, his worry deepening. When he entered, he had indeed noticed the situation inside the clinic: so many people lying in beds, life and death uncertain, a heavy reality for him. He straightened his posture, his tone serious: “I noticed your situation when I came in just now.” He looked at Shayan, eyes full of understanding and sympathy.

Then Matthews turned to Luise, speaking decisively: “Luise, after returning, draft an official letter to the churches in each district, requesting that they assist in sheltering the patients. If space is insufficient, open schools for this purpose.” His instructions were concise and powerful, his finger unconsciously tapping lightly on the table.

Luise stood straight, eyes focused, nodding in response: “Understood, Bishop.” Her voice was filled with determination; although facing such a massive challenge, there was not a trace of fear.

Matthews continued, his tone uncompromising and firm: “We need a large supply of medicines and medical personnel support. I will write to Bishop Rogers stationed in Batavia for assistance.” He looked up at Shayan: “Shayan, I am sending our young physician Benjamin here to learn from you. Once he masters treating smallpox patients, he will travel to each village for mobile medical care, training church personnel to assist with patients.” His tone carried a hint of expectation, hoping these steps would take effect quickly.

Shayan nodded gently, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. She knew all of this was for alleviating the suffering and pressure on the patients. “Very well, I will teach him as soon as possible.” Her tone was calm but conveyed extraordinary determination.

At that moment, the reception room door was lightly knocked, and Kali rushed in to report the situation outside: “The number of patients outside the clinic continues to grow. We can no longer handle so many people.” His tone was urgent, brows furrowed, still clutching a patient’s diagnosis sheet.

Matthews and Shayan exchanged a glance, understanding each other silently. The road ahead remained long and full of challenges, yet every instruction, every collaboration, would be an indispensable part of this battle.

139
Inside the office of the governor’s residence in Fort Zeelandia, the lighting was dim, and the air carried a sense of stifling heaviness. The desk was piled with unprocessed documents, while outside the window, the city streets seemed unusually silent, like a repressed stillness. Governor Putmans sat at the desk, a cigar smoldering in his mouth, the smoke curling through the air as if reflecting the anxiety and weight in his heart. His hands were clasped on the desk, gaze serious, thoughts deep.

His low voice reverberated through the office, filled with urgency and unease: “This wave of the smallpox epidemic is coming fiercely, spreading rapidly in the local area. We must find a way to control the outbreak as quickly as possible.” He exhaled a thick plume of smoke, then stroked his chin, brow furrowed as if weighing each decision.

Jones stood by the desk, brow slightly furrowed, his face showing a hint of contemplation. He looked at Putmans, speaking calmly and resolutely: “Smallpox is highly contagious. To control the outbreak, the already infected patients must be gathered together, preventing further spread.” He paused, eyes turning toward the distant view outside the window, as if seeing the future in the distance, then turned back to continue: “Doing so will at least prevent more innocent people from being infected.”

Putmans nodded slightly, thinking for a moment before setting down the cigar, hands crossed over his chest, his tone low but assured: “Thomas, your idea aligns with mine.” He leaned slightly back in his chair, a glimmer of decisiveness in his eyes, his tone suddenly more determined.

Seeing this, Jones nodded in agreement, then continued: “Near our vicinity is an island called Sazhou, sparsely populated, enough to accommodate these patients. The governor can order the guards to station there, confining smallpox to the island; in this way, we can control the spread of the epidemic.” He walked to the window, pointing toward the distant coastline, his reasoning calm: “The bodies of the dead can be cremated on site to prevent them from becoming a source of infection.”

A bright spark appeared in Putmans’ eyes, as if he had found the key to the problem. He smiled slightly, showing a trace of approval: “Yes, this method is feasible.” His tone was firm, without hesitation. He then turned to his aide, Whittes, giving orders: “Aide, transmit my command, dispatch troops to each village, gathering patients on Sazhou Island.” His finger lightly tapped the desk, his tone full of authority: “This is the only way to prevent the epidemic from spreading to the entire city.”

Whittes immediately straightened, stepping forward, responding in a low voice: “Yes, Governor.” He picked up the orders on the desk, quickly flipping through, ready to act. His movements were swift and decisive, reflecting his attention and determination to carry out the command.

As Whittes’ footsteps departed the office, Putmans focused again on the misty distance outside, his inner anxiety not yet fully dissipated. He knew this epidemic was not only a challenge for the city but also a test of his leadership ability. Yet, at this moment, a subtle force of hope quietly began to rise within him.

140
Outside Junsheng’s clinic, sunlight filtered through the tall sycamore trees, casting dappled shadows. On the stone path in the courtyard, patients sat in a row, almost filling the open space in front of the gate. Some were pale-faced, expressions anxious, while others covered their foreheads with hands, occasionally coughing softly. Occasionally, a faint hissing sound carried through the air, as if someone was whispering or discussing in low voices, creating a tense and heavy atmosphere.

Suddenly, a troop of armed soldiers appeared at the clinic’s entrance. The soldiers wore heavy military uniforms, tightly gripping long rifles, their steps heavy and firm. Once they halted, they immediately blocked the clinic’s main gate, forming an unbreakable iron-clad formation. The patients grew somewhat panicked; some stood, whispering, while others began to worry whether they would be taken away.

Patient A raised his hand, pointing at the soldiers, asking anxiously: “What’s happening? Why has a troop of soldiers arrived?”

Patient B frowned, voice full of confusion: “This is a clinic. Why are these soldiers here?”

Kali, hearing the voices, immediately stepped forward, his steps quick and decisive, placing himself at the clinic’s entrance. He raised his hand, pointing at the officers, his tone tinged with anger: “Sir, why the grand formation? Since when has our clinic had such a close relationship with the government?”

Alpha stood at the front of the troop, eyes cold, responding in a deep voice: “Have your clinic’s head, Dr. Shayan, come out to speak?”

As the words fell, Dr. Benjamin and Ali, hearing the commotion outside, quickly moved to the door. They stood beside Kali. Benjamin slightly furrowed his brows, his tone calm but carrying firmness: “I am Benjamin, a physician sent by the Dominican Order for internship. May I ask, officer, why have you brought a troop of soldiers to the clinic?”

Alpha slightly bowed, then handed Benjamin an order document, his tone filled with the coldness of official duty: “By command of the head of the governor’s office, all smallpox patients in your clinic are to be transferred to nearby Sazhou Island for centralized isolation. The order is here; please comply as instructed.”

Benjamin took the document, quickly reading it, then returned it to Alpha, his tone calm yet implying refusal: “I’m afraid I cannot agree to this. Could we wait a moment for our bishop to arrive?”

Alpha’s gaze hardened, nodding: “Very well, I will wait for your bishop.” His tone was stern, without excess emotion.

Benjamin then turned to Kali, eyes resolute: “Brother Kali, please go to the church and inform Bishop Matthews to come here.”

Kali quickly responded, nodding: “Understood, I’ll go immediately.” He then swiftly turned and left.

Meanwhile, Ali also approached Shayan, alerting her to the situation and informing her that Bishop Matthews’ assistance would be needed.

Soon, Shayan, Ali, and Bosman appeared together at the doorway. Shayan’s expression remained calm, but a trace of concern could be seen in her eyes. She walked slowly to Benjamin’s side, whispering: “Dr. Benjamin, what’s happening? Why are these soldiers here?”

Benjamin immediately explained: “Sister Shayan, this troop is ordered to take away all the smallpox patients from the clinic. I have already sent Kali to request the bishop’s arrival.”

Shayan’s brows furrowed tightly, her face showing resolve, her tone strong: “These patients urgently need medical care. I will not agree to the officers’ request.”

Seeing the tense situation, Bosman immediately stepped forward, speaking calmly and logically: “Shayan, stay calm. Let me speak with the commanding officer.” He turned to Alpha, stepping steadily, his tone showing respect but also authority: “Officer, I am Bosman. Under the previous governor Peter, I served as his clerk.”

Alpha was slightly taken aback, a flash of surprise in his eyes, but quickly regained composure, his tone still steady: “Since you served as a clerk, you should understand we are acting under orders.”

Bosman shook his head, tone deliberate and measured yet forceful: “Even if under orders, forcibly taking severely ill patients is unreasonable both morally and practically.”

At that moment, Bishop Matthews and Sister Luise arrived. Matthews’ steps were steady, brows slightly furrowed, appearing highly focused. He looked at Alpha, his tone serious: “Which one of you is the commanding officer? I am Bishop Matthews.”

Alpha immediately saluted, bowing slightly, his tone respectful and impeccable: “I am Lieutenant Alpha, the commanding officer.”

Matthews took a deep breath, tone firm: “I will go with you into the city to meet your superior, Putmans.”

Shayan did not hesitate to respond, resolute: “Matthews, I will go with you.”

Bosman immediately nodded, tone decisive: “I will go as well.”
Alpha saluted, posture strict, gaze still calm: “The three of you, please.”
He then signaled the soldiers to stand down and led Matthews and the other two toward Fort Zeelandia.