Three flu patients appeared in the house, and Ye Tang distributed her masks to the maids and the three young manservants.
Cinderella and Gloria’s fevers broke the next morning and noon respectively, but Claudia, who had also been diagnosed with a cold, showed no signs of improvement.
On the third day, Ye Tang had a maid fetch another doctor. After examining Claudia, the doctor looked troubled as he said to Ye Tang, “From Miss Claudia’s symptoms, she seems to have contracted the Spanish Flu…”
The Spanish Flu reaching Osnabrock had been within Ye Tang’s expectations. What she had not anticipated was that the H1N1 would arrive even faster than spring. Outside the window, winter still raged with swirling snow, yet the Spanish Flu had already invaded Osnabrock.
It seemed the worst-case scenario—a widespread outbreak of the Spanish Flu—was inevitable. The only question left was how devastating it would be.
“Thank you for your efforts, Doctor.”
Ye Tang left the fever medicine prescribed by the doctor and had Ian see him out.
In this era, flu vaccines had not yet been developed, antibiotics were not widespread, and fever reducers had limited effect. Contracting the Spanish Flu truly meant half one’s life had already been surrendered to the underworld; the rest depended on luck.
“Wash your hands diligently. Each time, lather soap over every part of your hands. Wash the wrists and between the fingers too, understood?”
“Masks must cover the nose and mouth. When removing them, do not let the inside touch your neck or forehead. Wash used masks with soap daily and boil them in hot water.”
Ye Tang, who had bought over a hundred bars of soap, personally taught the maids how to wash their hands and wear masks. One maid found the mask stifling and secretly removed it where Ye Tang could not see, only to be reported by the other maids.
Good advice could not persuade the willfully doomed. From the start, Ye Tang had explained to every servant in Hedelin House that wearing masks, washing them, and frequent handwashing prevented the spread of the Spanish Flu.
If a maid who disregarded the Spanish Flu did not fear death for herself, Ye Tang worried she would endanger others. That very day, Ye Tang dismissed her, showing no mercy even as the maid wailed and clung to the gates of Hedelin House for hours.
Claudia’s condition fluctuated, her state sometimes improving, sometimes worsening.
This was typical of influenza viruses.
——The mortality rate of influenza viruses was not as high as that of their predecessors among the plague knights—smallpox, plague, and cholera. But their transmissibility far exceeded those elders.
The reason influenza viruses did not kill their hosts immediately like their predecessors was not because they were weaker juniors.
In fact, influenza viruses were “smarter” than smallpox, plague, and cholera. Those three were cruel, but their cruelty went too far. After a major outbreak, the plague knights often wiped out every host in the vicinity, leaving no carriers for the viruses to spread. Without hosts, the viruses could not propagate.
The cunning influenza virus learned from its predecessors’ failures. This gourmet allowed its hosts to live comfortably for a time, like meat ripening, spreading through their droplets to wider areas and more humans.
Once the influenza virus deemed the time right, it revealed its ferocious true face, devouring the host’s life in a sudden strike.
Claudia had fallen ill so quickly because she was sick on top of sickness. A common cold virus had already breached her immune system.
Daisy, who had sent people to get Hans drunk and freeze him into a popsicle in the snow, was the first to learn of his death—in a tavern, before her men found him. Fearing accusations of murder, the tavern owner notified the security officer to handle Hans’s body.
Daisy’s men, who were searching for Hans, were informed of his death by someone who recognized him.
“—Anna, are you saying you knew the Spanish Flu would reach Vitlil?”
Daisy’s gaze toward Ye Tang shifted.
Was her friend actually a witch who could foresee the future?
Ye Tang set down her teacup. “Daisy, you saw it in the newspapers too, right? Tartafu’s crown prince died of the Spanish Flu. That means it has already spread widely in Tartafu; otherwise, the crown prince, who lived in the palace year-round and only left for two months of summer retreat, could not have contracted it.”
“Tartafu is one of Osnabrock’s main trading partners, with at least ten thousand people traveling between them annually. In winter, ports freeze, and merchant ships from Tartafu to Osnabrock dock temporarily. I thought the cold would slow the Spanish Flu’s spread…”
“But now it seems people carried it back from Tartafu as early as autumn and early winter. The ice and snow failed to stop it. The Spanish Flu is already buried like landmines throughout Vitlil.”
As expected of a clever woman, Daisy sighed deeply, finally understanding why Ye Tang had rushed to make masks and fretted over the coming spring.
“…Do masks and frequent soap handwashing really work?”
Ye Tang paused.
In this era before bacteria and viruses were visible under microscopes, her words could easily be dismissed as baseless ravings. If someone wished her harm, accusing her of witchcraft and cursing the nation with prophecy, even judges and officials would believe it.
For Daisy to trust her so quickly showed not only deep faith in her but also foresight far beyond the common person of this time.
“They work.”
After a brief surprise, Ye Tang affirmed, “The Spanish Flu… yes, Daisy, think of it as parasites even smaller than dust. These parasites nest in humans and animals, feeding on them to reproduce rapidly. Because they are so light and tiny, they float out from the nose and mouth when people speak or breathe… like dandelion seeds.”
“These parasites drift to suitable nesting spots—uninflected humans and animals—entering through the mouth and nose to nest and multiply. And so it cycles.”
Daisy’s shoulders trembled. Ye Tang’s words conjured horrifying, grotesque images in her mind.
“So we cover our noses and mouths to block these terrible little things outside. As long as the Spanish Flu hasn’t entered our bodies, we can wash them away with soap.”
Deeper explanations were too advanced for this era, so Ye Tang likened bacteria to bugs. The metaphor had limits, but if it conveyed the gist, her goal was achieved.
“Daisy, the first outbreaks of the Spanish Flu will hit the slums.”
Ye Tang stood, lifted her skirt, and bowed formally to Daisy. “I request you inform the great figure behind you. Ask him to help the people in the slums… The poor are lives too; they create wealth for the nation. Without the poor, there are no nobles. The poor are the foundation of the state.”
“…”
Daisy fell silent.
Anna Rochel was right, yet wrong. In this country, the poor were lives cheaper than monkeys or dogs. If anyone besides her heard “Without the poor, there are no nobles,” Anna Rochel would be hanged.
“Anna Rochel, stand up. I don’t have as much power as you imagine. That one… from his position, protecting the poor brings him no benefit, only unwanted suspicion.”
Ye Tang did not rise. She held the bow steady, not even a strand of hair stirring.
She was utterly resolute.
“The poor will spread the Spanish Flu to ordinary citizens. Many citizens are surely already infected—vendors, merchants, tailors, cooks, workers… people supporting every trade in this city.”
“And nobles and elites… even noble officials cannot completely avoid contact with these ‘lowly’ commoners, right? Before the Spanish Flu, no noble can escape.”
“I’m not saying give every poor person a doctor and medicine. What I hope you convey to that one is: ‘If nobles wish to protect themselves, lock the lowly ones where they belong. To prevent the lowly from infecting noble bloodlines.’”
…
“—She really said that?”
Duke Wilson asked Daisy, who had come to see him unprompted. Adrian and Jack, standing behind the duke, looked stunned.
“She really said that.”
Daisy smiled wryly. “She also said: ‘If you don’t want the lowly to panic and rebel, call the ‘locking’ ‘quarantine’. Don’t be too rough with the lowly; if needed, give them coarse bread, hot water, some old clothes to soothe them and keep them from running about.’”
As Duke Wilson listened, he laughed. This Mrs. Hedelin truly understood noble psychology.
She knew nobles acted only when it concerned themselves and loved hearing others called “lowly” while praising their own “noble blood.”
Her words seemed from a noble’s perspective but actually strove for maximum benefits for the poor… See, even profit-driven Daisy had been swayed into advocating for her.
“Isn’t Mrs. Hedelin overreacting just because one daughter caught the Spanish Flu?”
Tall, icy-faced Jack frowned, and Adrian immediately hooked his arm around Jack’s neck. “That’s where you’re wrong, Jack. This lady isn’t saying this for her daughter. Look, she prepared masks before her daughter fell ill, right?”
Jack, with Adrian’s arm around his shoulders, nodded reluctantly. “This… is true…”
“So Mrs. Hedelin decided long ago to fight for the poor’s survival, daughter sick or not. Ah—I want to see the expression on this heroic lady’s face as she said it!”
Hearing Adrian, Duke Wilson nodded in agreement. “Indeed, I want to meet this heroic lady too.”
“Your Highness!?”
Jack exclaimed in shock, while Adrian smiled and asked Daisy, “So, Mrs. Clement, how is Miss Claudia doing?”
Clawing little leopard cub, you suit your spirited self—don’t fall easily to the sickbed.