Traditional Chinese Medicine doctor Gao-Yuan

The room fell into silence at once.

Everyone was stunned.

The young man spoke with a confidence so large it seemed he hadn’t brushed his teeth in two years.

Zhao Huanzhang edged a couple of steps to the side. In truth, he barely knew Gao-Yuan, having just met him the day before.

Gao-Yuan glanced around at the group, his expression steady, betraying no hint of boastfulness, for his words were no exaggeration. In these times, rural areas were starved for medical resources. The illness was met with fear, and many refrained from seeking treatment. As diseases and contagions became more rampant, countless cases that could have been treated early had now deteriorated into emergencies.

Without access to the better-equipped city hospitals, the villagers relied on rural doctors to save lives. Other physicians shied away from such dire cases, but Gao-Yuan had a dogged sense of responsibility. No matter how grave the situation, he would always give it his all. In his previous life, he had handled many critical cases, carving out a reputation for himself.

Why did he eventually become the most revered traditional physician in the county? It wasn’t luck. He had brought back many patients who were sent home from the city hospitals to die—patients whose families sought out his help as a final act of desperation, only for him to pull them back from death’s door.

With a track record like that, how could he not be considered the best?

The city's hospital, with all its equipment, was still no match for what the future would bring. In this moment, it was better to let him work unfettered than struggle to transfer the child to the city.

Dr. Qiao couldn’t help but smirk. He turned to Qi Dongsheng and said, “This expert you’ve brought in... really something, huh?”

The sarcasm hung thick in the air.

Though Qi Dongsheng had already been somewhat convinced of Gao-Yuan's skills, even he couldn’t help but feel his vision darken at these audacious words. No matter how skilled the young man might be, he couldn’t possibly match the prowess of a city hospital, right? The city had cutting-edge medical technology that their county lacked. And there were two specialists who had studied overseas. How could this country's doctor’s abilities compare?

Even Zhao Huanzhang, overly cautious as always, was beginning to believe Gao-Yuan was in over his head. He couldn’t tell if this collaboration with the clinic would end in fortune or disaster.

In the end, all Qi Dongsheng could do was sigh. "Doctor Gao... he's always been this confident. Let’s have him prescribe something and see if we can at least stabilise the situation. Meanwhile, I’ll figure out how to get the child transferred to the city."

Dr. Qiao had no choice but to nod.

Dr. Tian chuckled, walking over to Dr. Qiao and whispering, "Teacher, are all traditional doctors such braggarts?"

Dr. Qiao raised his hand to silence him. "That’s enough. Let’s wait and see."

Dr. Tian shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. He glanced at Zhao Huanzhang, then at Gao-Yuan, shaking his head at both.

But Gao-Yuan was unfazed. He lifted the child’s clothing, revealing patches of bruises on the chest and back. From the moment the child had been brought in, he had been convulsing uncontrollably, with no sign of stopping. Gao-Yuan asked the mother some questions and learned that the boy’s urine was dark, his stools dry, and his thirst insatiable.

He wanted to examine the child’s tongue, but the boy’s jaws were clenched too tightly to allow it. Unperturbed, Gao-Yuan focused on the pulse instead, finding it slippery and rapid.

The mother, trembling with worry, asked, “Doctor, can you save him? My father-in-law said you’re very skilled... He’s been sick for eight days now, and even Dr. Li Runyu couldn’t help him. You cured my father-in-law with just one dose of medicine. You must have a way, right?”

Gao-Yuan nodded reassuringly. "Don't worry. It’s not too late."

He offered the family comfort before turning to Zhao Huanzhang. “This child’s fever is scorching his blood, driving him towards convulsions. His heat is deep, his blood has stagnated, and it’s reached a dangerous point. The heat has seized his liver, causing wind, and it’s blocked his heart. This is a critical condition."

Zhao Huanzhang licked his lips nervously, his gaze darting away.

Gao-Yuan felt a wave of exhaustion. At this crucial moment, Zhao Huanzhang was hesitating again, unable to offer the support he needed. Unable to count on him, Gao-Yuan simply pressed forward, asking, "Do you have acupuncture tools here?"

Zhang Yuancai interjected, “There’s a clinic next door; they should have some.”

“Li Runyu’s clinic?” Gao-Yuan asked.

Zhang Yuancai nodded. “Yes, but Dr. Li is out on a call. He hasn’t returned yet.”

Without missing a beat, Gao-Yuan instructed, “Then go borrow their acupuncture kit. I need a three-edged needle and fine needles.”

“Right away,” Zhang Yuancai replied, dashing out of the room.

With a moment’s respite, Zhao Huanzhang finally pulled Gao-Yuan aside and whispered, “Are you really going to treat this boy?”

Gao-Yuan nodded.

Zhao Huanzhang’s face twisted with worry. “Just... be cautious with the medication, alright? The boy’s condition is so severe, it’s unlikely he’ll make it. You don’t want to use anything too aggressive. Try to stabilise him; buy some time so we can transfer him to the city hospital.”

Gao-Yuan’s gaze fixed on Zhao Huanzhang, unblinking.

Unnerved, Zhao asked, “What... what did I say wrong?”

Gao-Yuan’s voice was calm but unwavering. “Do you know the biggest difference between us?”

“Huh?” Zhao Huanzhang blinks, taken aback. “What?”

“I have an unshakeable resolve,” Gao-Yuan said, his words deliberate. “Even in the most desperate moments, I can seize that one-in-a-million chance. But you... you’re so riddled with doubt that you’ve already surrendered before the fight begins. And because of that, you never truly give your all. So when you lose a critical patient, you’re left with nothing but regret and guilt.”

Zhao Huanzhang was stunned, the words cutting straight to his core. It was as if Gao-Yuan had voiced the thoughts buried deep within him.

Gao-Yuan held his gaze, knowing that this was a truth Zhao Huanzhang had once spoken to him in a past life.

With quiet intensity, Gao-Yuan continued, “A doctor’s battle with illness is like a showdown on a narrow path—the bravest will win. No strategy, no skill matters if the doctor doesn’t have the courage to fight to the end. You must never give up, no matter the odds. Only then can you hope for victory.”

Zhao Huanzhang stood there, speechless.

Gao-Yuan added, “This is the spirit I learnt in the army.”

Just then, Zhang Yuancai returned, breathless. “I’ve got the acupuncture kit.”

“Good,” Gao-Yuan said, taking the kit from him without hesitation. With determined steps, he marched towards the patient.

Zhao Huanzhang watched and dazed as the young man walked away. It struck him then—this wasn’t just a doctor. Gao-Yuan was a warrior. And he, Zhao Huanzhang, was merely a weak-willed landlord.

But then again, wasn’t weakness inherent in their class? Perhaps, after all, that was the way of things.

Gao-Yuan wasted no time. He drew the three-edged needle and, with expert precision, pricked the child’s fingertips and toes, then moved to vital acupoints—Baihui, Dazhui—releasing dark blood.

Dr. Tian wrinkled his nose at the sight. “Teacher, didn't the traditional doctors used to mock us for bloodletting in the past? Yet here they are, still using such ancient methods! Haven’t they evolved like we have?”

Dr. Qiao shot him a glance. “This is their expert. Let’s see what comes of it.”

Dr. Tian shrugged but said no more.

Even Zhao Huanzhang frowned in doubt.

But Gao-Yuan’s hands moved swiftly. After the bloodletting, he switched to fine needles, employing the Sparrow-Pecking technique at the Yongquan acupoint, followed by quick points at Suli, Renzhong, and Hegu.

Acupuncture is the fastest remedy in emergencies.

As the needles took effect, the boy’s vomiting ceased, and sweat began to bead across his pale skin.

Zhao Huanzhang took a few steps forward, his eyes wide with astonishment. “He’s sweating! He’s stopped vomiting!”

The boy’s mother, elated, exclaimed, “He’s not throwing up anymore! He’s not throwing up!”

“What?” Chief Qi rushed over, his voice trembling with hope.

Dr. Qiao and Dr. Tian exchanged a look of disbelief.

When Gao-Yuan finished, he removed the needles. The boy’s eyelids floated open.

The mother gasped, covering her mouth in shock. Realising what had happened, she quickly uncovered her face, calling out, “Jianjun, my boy, you’re awake! How do you feel?”

"Grandson, look at Grandpa... look at Grandpa." Qi Lao's voice trembled as he spoke, his hands quivering with hope.

Dr. Qiao and Dr. Tian stood there, utterly dumbfounded, their wide eyes locked onto the young boy’s face as if witnessing a miracle unfold before their very eyes.

Gao-Yuan, having worked meticulously, finally exhaled a long breath. "Take his temperature," he ordered, his voice steady but sharp.

When neither of the doctors moved, still frozen in their stupor, he raised his voice with stern clarity. "I said, take his temperature!"

"Oh!" Dr. Tian snapped out of his daze, hastily moving forward. He fumbled with the thermometer before slipping it under the boy's arm, his hands now steady but his heart racing with uncertainty.

Minutes later, when he pulled out the thermometer, he stared at it, blinking rapidly as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Well?" Dr. Qiao demanded anxiously, leaning in as if he might snatch the device from Tian’s hands if the man didn’t speak quickly enough.

Dr. Tian, still staring at the thermometer, glanced again, his expression unreadable until he stammered, "It's... it's down. One degree... the fever’s down by one degree."

A deep hush fell over the room like a blanket.