Director Li, clutching the prescription tightly, rushed out in search of a nurse. Moments later, however, he returned, clearly flustered. "The dosage of fuzi is too high. The pharmacy refuses to fill it."

Elder Wan shook his head. He had expected this—who would dare dispense such a high dosage?

Gao-Yuan turned to Director Zhu and called out, "Director Zhu!"

Director Zhu hesitated, glancing at the patient’s family. His experience told him that the attitude of the family was crucial at such moments. He asked, "What do you think?"

Without much hesitation, Hao Meiling replied firmly, "We’ll proceed."

Her elder brother frowned. "Meiling, do you really trust this man to save Dad's life?"

Hao Meiling shook her head.

"Then why would you agree to use such a terrifying prescription?" he asked again.

Looking at Director Zhu and the other doctors, Hao Meiling saw them all avoiding her gaze. She responded, "This doctor is the only one who truly wants to save my father. He’s our only option. Do we even have a choice?"

Her elder brother was momentarily stunned into silence. She was right—this young doctor was the only one still trying. Everyone else, himself included, had already given up. None of them believed there was any hope left.

After a pause, he sighed deeply. "Alright, as long as you won't regret your decision, I’ll support whatever you choose to do."

Tears welled up in Hao Meiling’s eyes again.

Director Zhu nodded heavily, understanding that the family had resigned themselves to trying whatever might work—a desperate attempt to save the unsavable. He had seen this situation countless times during his years in the hospital. Unfortunately, the outcome was rarely positive, only serving to add another layer of despair.

Elder Wan glanced at the other traditional medicine practitioners, who responded with wry smiles.

With the family in this state of mind, it wouldn’t have mattered if Gao-Yuan had prescribed twelve taels of fuzi a day—or even twelve jin—they would have accepted it.

But would it make any difference?

Seeing the family’s approval, Director Zhu turned to the hospital leadership. "Director Yuan, what’s your view?"

Director Yuan Hai replied, "I don’t understand medical treatments. It’s up to you."

Director Zhu nodded, taking the prescription from the nurse. "I’ll speak with the pharmacy myself."

With that, he left the room.

The room fell silent. The atmosphere grew unbearably heavy. Treating a terminal patient was already distressing, but Gao-Yuan's unconventional approach added another layer of tension.

Though the Hao siblings stayed by their father’s side, they couldn’t help but glance at Gao-Yuan every so often.

The oppressive atmosphere eventually became too much for some of the doctors. One by one, they excused themselves, saying they were going to check on the children with adenoviral pneumonia in the wards.

Gradually, most of the people in the consultation room left.

Director Yuan Hai also departed. He was busy coordinating the treatment of adenoviral pneumonia patients and overseeing the collaboration between Western and traditional medicine teams.

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Before long, only a handful of people remained in the consultation room. Part of it was because everyone was busy, and part of it was because no one believed there was any hope for Hao Daya.

Hao Meiling sat silently by her father’s side, tears streaming down her face.

After observing the situation for a while, Gao-Yuan stepped out of the room as well.

Outside the hospital entrance, he exhaled deeply, trying to release the tension. Gazing into the distance, he murmured, "Another life hanging by a thread."

Gao-Yuan had treated many critically ill patients. As long as the three major foot pulses were discernible, even a complex seven-deficient pulse at the wrist offered some chance of survival. But this patient only had the Taixi pulse remaining.

The Taixi pulse, associated with kidney qi, was the body’s congenital foundation.

He recalled the teachings from his past life, especially the notes in Peng Ziyi's Lecture Records, which stated: “Even when stomach qi is nearly exhausted, survival is not impossible. But once kidney qi is depleted, it’s like uprooting the source of yang energy—beyond salvation, even for immortals.”

Instinctively, he reached into his pocket for a cigarette, only to find none. In his previous life, he had relied on cigarettes during such tense moments. Although he had quit smoking in this life, the habitual craving lingered.

Shaking his head, he muttered to himself.

"Are you looking for a cigarette?" a voice asked from behind.

Gao-Yuan turned to see Hao Meiling approaching.

"If you want to smoke, I can ask my brother for one," she offered.

He waved his hand. "No need. I quit long ago."

"Are you uncertain about this too?" she asked quietly.

Gao-Yuan remained silent.

Her face fell. "I know my father probably can’t be saved. I just can’t bring myself to accept it. I don’t want to believe it. It’s so hard to imagine that the man who once carried me on his shoulders is now in this condition."

"I don’t want to go home and never be able to call out ‘Dad’ again. That’s why I’m insisting on trying everything. Even if there’s no hope, I need to keep trying. At the very least, I can say I never gave up on him."

Meeting her eyes, Gao-Yuan replied earnestly, "I won’t give up on my patients either. No matter what happens, I’ll always do my best."

She looked at him with gratitude. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Thank you too."

…

After the medication was prepared, Hao Meiling fed the first dose to her father.

Meanwhile, Gao-Yuan assisted in treating critically ill children in the other wards. Originally, they had planned to return to the county hospital that day, but the sudden emergence of a critical case delayed their departure.

Director Li and Wang Hanzhang seized the opportunity to share their experiences of combining traditional and Western medicine again.

After the first dose, they quickly prepared the second, which was administered in the afternoon.

To everyone’s surprise, the patient, who had been expected to pass away before noon, was still alive by the afternoon. By evening, he was still holding on.

By dinnertime, more relatives arrived, some with black armbands, prepared for the worst.

Seeing Hao Daya’s condition, they sighed and shed tears, grateful to have made it in time to see him one last time.

After dinner, Hao Meiling fed her father the third dose.

Night fell, and Hao Daya was still alive.

As more relatives and friends arrived, they expressed astonishment that they could still see him alive.

Hao’s elder son, observing the scene, was at a loss for words. He wondered, “Is it possible that everyone will get to see him one last time?”

By now, it was late in the evening. Not only had the hospital doctors stayed, but even the traditional medicine practitioners from outside clinics had not left.

These practitioners marveled at the situation. That morning, Hao Daya’s six pulses had ceased, and his three-foot pulses were nearly gone—a sure sign of imminent death. Yet here he was, still alive.

This defied all their expectations!

Elder Wan, observing the crowd in the ward, couldn’t help but exclaim, "For Dr. Gao to fight this hard, it’s something to be proud of."

The other doctors nodded in agreement. Facing a patient who had stepped through death’s door, keeping him alive until now was a feat worthy of respect.

Despite his admiration, Elder Wan sighed. "But human strength has its limits. How can man wrestle life away from the King of Hell?"

The others sighed as well. They wished for a miracle, but reason told them miracles belonged only to legends.

Director Yuan Hai shook his head, a wry smile on his face. He didn’t even know what he was hoping for anymore—perhaps he should never have had any expectations to begin with.

Elder Wan turned to him and said, "Director, this patient may not survive, but Dr. Gao has demonstrated the value of the Benton Decoction. I believe the city should take it seriously."

"Agreed," Director Yuan Hai said with a nod.

Elder Wan smiled faintly.

Just then, Teacher Han Dai emerged from the crowd of Hao family relatives and said, "Hey, the patient’s benton qi has stabilized."

The room instantly fell silent.