Macbethian witches got nothing on the Chinese pharmacist...

So this whole week I've had a minor cold (along with all the other mess that's happened). As my nose was slowly dribbling down my face and onto my clothes, despite my every attempt to quickly stuff the crunchy Chinese brand tissues up it, a Chinese teacher friend of mine commented: "oh you are ill."

Before I had a chance to respond with a snot bubble or cough she pulls out this box of Chinese brand medicine...

A brief vignette: Chinese medicine, accurately or not, makes me think of ground up tigers claws, sharks teeth, snakes venom, creepy looking old men standing over stinking pots of some dark colored gruel, something that the witches from Macbeth would have cooked up... moving on.

... on the box, in bold green font are the numbers 666. The medicine's name.

Now I was sure that this place is trying to kill me, and, after the week I've had...

"The name of that medicine is 666?" I sputter in disbelief, frantically wracking my brain to think up any polite way of avoiding this medicine like the plague or, more accurately, like its (apparent) name .

"No," she said turning the box around, "it's 999. Have you heard of it before? It's so famous, I think will help you."

So a nice hot cup of 999 and the best nights sleep I've had all week later and I can vouch that those witches from Macbeth could probably take a hint or two from the Chinese pharmacists.

666... my brain is messed up.