HTLCCBFT Chapter 184

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 184

The alchemists who understood Sargen’s character knew he was actually trying to be as tactful as possible.

But he truly was inept at social interactions—having grown up in a wealthy family as the sole male heir, he had been excessively doted on at home and rarely needed to please others.

This made his attempts at hinting and requesting appear clumsy and obvious.

There was no helping it. Although Sargen didn’t lack research funding, he desperately craved authoritative support.

Both legal statutes and divine temple doctrines considered corpse desecration a grave crime, and the entire process—from obtaining corpses to conducting research and disposing of them—could never be completely concealed from public view… This was why his most desired research had remained stagnant.

Merely dissecting animal bodies could only provide limited reference value, but could never serve as direct substitutes.

This had been giving Sargen endless headaches.

However, even someone as bold as him had absolutely no desire to experience prison again: the memory of just three days in that hellish place was deeply ingrained.

After being reported once, he had learned his lesson thoroughly. Until the right opportunity arose, he would refrain from crossing that dangerous line.

Now… for some reason, he felt as if he could see a glimmer of hope.

Fosse frowned slightly at his impatient pushing of boundaries, deep green eyes quietly brewing with displeasure.

The reason it remained at the brewing stage without immediate outburst… was because he clearly saw the slight upward curve at the corner of the young master’s lips, along with that subconscious gesture.

The exquisite silver teacup contained half-finished dark red tea, with barely perceptible wisps of steam rising.

A slender, pale index finger casually hooked the delicate handle while the smooth pad of his white thumb gently rested on the upper side, slowly stroking it as if in affection.

This was a minor habitual gesture that perhaps even Oliver himself was unaware of.

But Fosse knew perfectly well that this meant the young master was not only in good spirits but also quite interested in what the other party would say next.

Naturally, Oliver remained completely unaware that the exceptionally perceptive butler had more or less discerned his mood.

To anyone else in the hall, Sargen’s words would likely sound disrespectful and clumsy in their probing, even shamelessly greedy.

But in Oliver’s view, this was merely a senior scholar engaged in niche research—constrained by policies and forced to step out of his laboratory to cautiously seek assistance from those in power.

The other party hadn’t even thought to request financial support, instead naturally preparing to continue to burn through his own life savings to pursue his beloved research.

Had Sargen’s earlier answers not satisfied him, Oliver might have simply dismissed it with a laugh.

But those words that might have amused or drawn scorn from others made his eyes light up—armed with only rudimentary modern medical knowledge—and he decided internally to support the other’s research.

This was undoubtedly the first pleasant surprise he had encountered after summoning so many people today.

Although Oliver had already made his decision internally, he did not verbally commit to Sargen in person. Instead, he gave a dignified and aloof slight nod before turning his gaze toward Fosse and saying indifferently, “You may begin.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Fosse performed a meticulous bow.

With just a simple gesture from him, the servants who had been standing quietly nearby approached the table and placed three sheets of paper before each person.

One sheet was printed with questions, while the remaining two were blank. Writing tools such as quills and ink were also provided.

The intention was clear: before agreeing to employ them, the lord wanted to further assess their capabilities through testing.

This was within everyone’s expectations—after all, they couldn’t possibly have several patients brought in for immediate treatment in a chaotic rush.

Especially for the physicians who had studied at universities, written examinations were a familiar method of assessment.

They confidently picked up their pens and smiled with a sense of superiority before even writing their names.

Only those uneducated barbers and the mysterious, eccentric alchemists—who had no idea why they had been summoned to the castle—would likely struggle.

“If you wish for His Highness to listen to your desires, you must first demonstrate the capability to match them.”

While personally distributing the test papers to Sargen, the stern and imposing butler, whose mere presence was intimidating, suddenly spoke these words in a hushed tone near Sargen’s ear.

Sargen instinctively looked up.

The lord, whose beauty surpassed imagination, seemed to have been lost in thought, his clear blue eyes appearing vacant and unfocused.

However, upon catching Sargen’s gaze, the lord gave a slight nod and offered a faint smile.

It was reserved and elegant.

Yet also radiant and bright.

Sargen’s eyes widened slightly, feeling as though the entire hall he was in… had suddenly brightened in that moment.

Sargen, who had always found the intricate networks beneath human skin mysteriously captivating, felt as though he had witnessed the rise of the brilliant moon that illuminates the tranquil night sky, and his mood unconsciously improved.

However, in his eyes, the allure of human charm could never compare to the fascination of exploring the complex structures of the human body.

He lost himself in these wandering thoughts until he heard Fosse’s cool reminder: “You may begin. The time allotted for answering the questions is until the dinner bell rings.”

As soon as the butler’s words ended, the soft, rustling sound of writing followed.

The faint, continuous noise was like silkworms nibbling on mulberry leaves.

It was a sound Oliver did not dislike.

As a noble lord and duke, he certainly didn’t need to stay and supervise the examination—he didn’t even need to appear in person.

However.

Oliver lazily propped his cheek with one hand, watching the focused test-takers with interest.

This was his first time playing such a role, and he found some amusement in observing the different expressions—some writing swiftly, others deep in thought.

Aside from the very few who were completely clueless about medicine and just trying to muddle through, most of the questions on the test were not particularly difficult.

For example, the simplest first question: “How to confirm whether a patient is still alive?”

For experienced physicians, this was as straightforward as eating or drinking.

Without hesitation, they filled in answers that were nearly identical except for minor wording differences: place a bowl of water on the patient’s chest, then observe.

“List at least three common sources of disease in the city.”

This clearly couldn’t stump those who had complete mastery of planetary charts. The most revered among them began writing rapidly without a second thought: When three superior planets in Aquarius align and combine with celestial nodes, solar and lunar eclipses, it causes malignant corruption in the surrounding atmosphere… When Saturn and Jupiter align, it makes people sick and die; when Mars and Jupiter align, it produces plague…

Mercury controls the brain, Jupiter controls the liver – the functions of organs are undoubtedly closely related to celestial phenomena. Being well-versed in astrology, herbalism, and the teachings of god, they could freely apply this knowledge, even using the Apuleius Sphere method to predict the likelihood of successful diagnosis and treatment. Answering these simple questions was naturally effortless.

Compared to these erudite physicians, the surgeons were in a much more awkward position.

Some had been mediocre students, straining to recall what they’d learned while scribbling random answers. Others wrote answers they knew were unlikely to be correct but still held faint hope for, based on their experience treating patients. A very few with exceptionally rich diagnostic experience, far surpassing their peers – surgeons who had truly moved beyond the “proper business” of shaving and haircutting – carefully considered before answering with knowledge they’d gained through practice.

Causes of disease… For external injuries, it should be deep wounds from dirty sharp objects, eating carcasses of diseased animals, and drinking from water sources too close to garbage and feces.

After writing this, Doktor[mfn]多科特(Duō kē tè) – ‘Docter'[/mfn] hesitated, then added a few more lines: Whether from demonic power or god’s punishment, in places invisible to human eyes, there exists something that can make clean wounds fester and swell again, that can make exposed food rapidly rot and stink…

Sargen and others weren’t interested in how to treat people, nor did they understand it. Therefore, they mostly skipped the first half of the exam, but the latter half caught many people’s interest.

This was so novel and fascinating!

“Improve existing soap-making methods, or provide ideas for related research.”

“Write a method for daily teeth cleaning with a monthly budget of only one silver coin.”

“What material is best for city water supply pipes?”

Oh! This was content that would interest them!

The questions on this thin exam paper were wonderfully bizarre, covering too many areas. Even the previously confident physicians couldn’t help but frown and remain unable to write for a long time.

Therefore, unsurprisingly to Oliver, no one could actually complete all the answers.

Whether it was the knowledgeable physicians or the alchemists versed in strange knowledge, all had large blank sections – let alone the awkwardly positioned surgeons.

After handing in their answer sheets, people’s expressions were almost universally anxious, mixed with confusion, excitement, or dissatisfaction.

Regardless of what emotions they harbored, the grading of the exams could not be completed immediately.

After being led by servants to the castle’s luxurious dining hall and being pleasantly surprised to enjoy a sumptuous and delicious meal, the group, with their tense nerves eased, returned home carrying hopes of being hired.

Oliver personally reviewed the answer sheets, feeling somewhat helpless.

He had always been self-aware that he was “standing on the shoulders of giants,” and of course, he would not look down upon the “ignorant” predecessors simply because he possessed advanced knowledge from a different era.

He merely felt regret for these densely written answers, clearly from physicians.

Were they truly hopelessly foolish?

Of course not.

It was just that the knowledge system these people had diligently studied and ultimately mastered was entirely different.

They knew nothing of germ theory and deeply believed in theology—which couldn’t exactly be called wrong.

Limited by the constraints of their environment and a touch of their own arrogance, they had no inclination to delve deeper into how the body functioned and strictly forbade others from doing so.

Oliver sighed.

This meant that the more learned the physician… the further their answers strayed from the truth.

Walking in entirely the wrong direction, their scores this time were not only inferior to those of alchemists, who were akin to chemists, but even fell short of most surgeons.

Yet their unwavering belief meant there would be more pitiable patients who, deprived of proper treatment, would tragically lose their lives, even firmly convinced until their last breath that it was “the purification of god” or “the punishment of god.”

Just like the girl who had served as his guide that day, desperately selling her body to earn money for medicine to sustain her gravely ill mother’s life.

When he heard her trying to stay optimistic while recounting her story, Oliver felt nothing but sorrow in his heart.

What exactly was the potion she had sacrificed her time, energy, money, health, future, and even her life to obtain?

She believed it was a life-saving potion.

But could a mediocre doctor, so destitute that he could only live in the slums and was unworthy of treating the wealthy, truly possess such miraculous abilities?

The physicians who came to the castle today were almost the top representatives in Gregor city. Yet, the prescriptions they wrote for treating bladder stones were still filled with wildly imaginative ideas: “Fry after cutting off the heads of dung beetles and crickets.”

The potion she had exchanged for with her pitifully meager everything… was likely nothing at all.

He felt anguish and regret.

From the perspective of people in this era, physicians were undoubtedly genuine intellectuals, possessing talents beyond the average person.

But having mastered erroneous knowledge for so many years and built their foundations upon it, they were even less likely to be willing to abandon their past beliefs, break free from the constraints of “common sense,” and humble themselves to absorb new knowledge.

They were worthy of sympathy, but could not be allowed to continue unchecked.

Oliver tapped his index finger lightly on the desk, lost in thought.

It was a pity that although he now had the authority to implement these changes, he was still severely lacking in specific medical knowledge—far from enough to teach others.

But at the very least, he possessed the foresight to select individuals with relevant qualifications and provide financial support, allowing them to serve as the “starting point.”

Like the Morning Star hanging high in the sky—it may not represent the ultimate answer, but it signifies the right direction.

While sorting through “usable” responses, Oliver let his thoughts wander.

The curtain had already risen on the city’s reconstruction project.

He painstakingly planned the layout and expanded public facilities, which included the construction of a large public hospital. All expenses could be covered by tax revenue, and the sole criterion for selection was that the doctors practicing there must genuinely possess the ability to treat illnesses and save lives.

He had actually delayed this matter for a long time; he had wanted to do it as early as his time in Laina.

However, he lacked both the time and the necessary talent and foundational resources.

Yet, he could attempt to achieve it through Gregor City.

Ensuring public health in the city could technically be accomplished by using authority to punish violators.

But if that were the case, once the new ruler’s prestige declined or oversight weakened, the city would quickly revert to its old ways, not to mention the inevitable presence of those who feigned compliance while acting contrary.

The truly permanent solution lies in teaching people the “why,” rather than simply and harshly saying “you cannot.”

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