As soon as these words were spoken, the room fell silent again.

Was Zhao Huanzhang implying that he wasn't as skilled as this young doctor? Impossible. Zhao Huanzhang was known as the best doctor in the surrounding area!

Everyone looked at the young man in astonishment.

Zhao Huanzhang was in an awkward spot. It wasn’t that he was being humble; he truly wasn’t as aggressive as Gao-Yuan. This guy seemed to treat raw gypsum like it was rice, whereas Zhao Huanzhang was just an ordinary, soft-spoken landowner.

"Seriously?" Yang Degui, filled with disbelief, eyed Gao-Yuan suspiciously. "You think one dose of medicine can cure Uncle Wei?"

Gao-Yuan replied with a smirk, "What, do you want some more of it?"

Yang Degui froze for a moment, then blushed deeply and turned away in frustration.

Even Zhao Huanzhang’s endorsement made Aunt Wei relent, and she said to Gao-Yuan, "Well then, we’ll be troubling you."

Gao-Yuan responded, "No need to be so polite. Let me take a look."

He approached Uncle Wei, who was visibly irritable, having been unable to sleep since falling ill. He was restless, his body aching all over, his chest tight, and his head and neck in such pain that he couldn't turn them.

Uncle Wei thirsted for warm drinks, his face flushed. His phlegm was thick and white, difficult to cough up, and his mouth tasted bland. His tongue was pale with a thin yellow coating, and his pulse was floating and rapid, showing strength. He hadn't had a bowel movement in three days.

Gao-Yuan noticed Uncle Wei trembling slightly, with a coat draped over him. He asked, "Feeling cold?"

Uncle Wei nodded.

Gao-Yuan touched Uncle Wei’s body—his skin was dry, without a trace of sweat. He asked, "Since falling ill, have you sweated at all?"

Uncle Wei shook his head, "No."

"Alright," Gao-Yuan understood. He then asked, "What medication has he been prescribed so far?"

Both Uncle Wei and Aunt Wei looked puzzled—they had no idea.

At that moment, Shen Congyun put down what he was doing and rushed over, "I prescribed Yin Qiao San."

"Yin Qiao San?" Gao-Yuan frowned.

Shen Congyun nodded. "His fever was really high—over 39°C—so I thought I'd use Yin Qiao San to clear the heat from the exterior and bring down the fever."

Gao-Yuan sighed. No wonder the treatment hadn’t worked. He said, "Didn't you notice his severe chills, body aches, neck pain, and white phlegm—all signs of an exterior cold?"

Shen Congyun was momentarily stunned, then defended himself, "But his fever was so intense that I didn’t dare use warming herbs like Ma Huang and Gui Zhi. What if it exhausted his fluids or caused profuse sweating and depleted his Yang energy?"

Zhao Huanzhang, sensing another issue, walked over, listened to the situation, and frowned, "Using Ma Huang and Gui Zhi does require caution. They are warming herbs with intense properties. Given how high his fever is, using them might intensify the heat and fire, causing Yang depletion and fluid loss, which could be dangerous."

With Zhao Huanzhang backing his view, Shen Congyun straightened up a bit and nodded seriously at Gao-Yuan.

Gao-Yuan, however, frowned. "Yes, the patient has a fever, but why? This is the body's righteous Qi fighting against the pathogen. The fever is a sign that this battle has reached a critical, heated stage."

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"In traditional Chinese medicine, fever isn’t necessarily a bad thing; it can actually be a good sign. But instead of expelling the exterior cold blockage, you're using cooling formulas like Yin Qiao San to lower the fever. Isn’t that weakening the body's foundation and helping the pathogen?"

Both of them were stunned by his explanation.

The other patients in the clinic also turned to watch, curious to see just how skilled this supposedly extraordinary young doctor really was.

Shen Congyun felt embarrassed and said, "Dr. Gao, you’re oversimplifying things..."

Gao-Yuan replied, "Then why hasn’t your treatment shown any effect after one dose?"

Shen Congyun was still somewhat unconvinced but dared not argue with Gao-Yuan. He muttered weakly, "You can't expect a serious illness to be cured with just one dose, can you? It’s not like he’ll get better in one day; he needs at least ten days or more."

Seeing Shen Congyun still muttering, Gao-Yuan said, "That’s because you ignored the exterior cold and focused solely on reducing the fever. This results in a prolonged illness, which could later develop into a chronic cough or persistent low-grade fever. With the correct diagnosis, one or two doses of medicine should suffice."

Shen Congyun, now at a loss for words, remained silent. He lacked the ability to deliver such swift and effective treatments.

Zhao Huanzhang couldn’t help but ask, "Are you really planning to cure him with just one dose?"

Gao-Yuan nodded confidently.

Zhao Huanzhang warned, "Be careful not to aim for too much too quickly. You must proceed with caution. The warming herbs like Ma Huang aren’t like gypsum. Given the patient’s high fever, if profuse sweating depletes his Yang energy, it could be fatal."

Gao-Yuan replied, "If the diagnosis is correct, then the treatment should be decisive. Why hesitate?"

Zhao Huanzhang was speechless again.

Gao-Yuan fetched a prescription sheet. The diagnosis was straightforward: fever, chills, body aches, no sweating, and restlessness—all symptoms treated by Da Qing Long Tang.

Zhao Huanzhang peeked at the prescription and was shocked, "You prescribed six mace of Ma Huang? Most doctors don’t even dare prescribe Ma Huang in the summer, yet you’re using such a high dose in a patient with a nearly 40°C fever?"

Gao-Yuan explained, "The pathogen is extremely aggressive right now, and the struggle between righteous Qi and the pathogen has reached its peak. To overcome it, we must strike hard and fast, leaving no room for the pathogen to linger."

Zhao Huanzhang, at a loss for words, could only say, "Dr. Gao, aren’t you a proponent of cold and cooling treatments? Why are you now using warming herbs like Ma Huang so aggressively?"

Gao-Yuan chuckled, "Who told you I favor cold treatments?"

Zhao Huanzhang replied, "You use gypsum so fiercely—isn’t that a sign you favor cold and cooling methods?"

Gao-Yuan laughed and said, "Actually, I’m even more skilled with warming herbs. We can discuss it further sometime."

"Let’s not," Zhao Huanzhang quickly waved him off. He was terrified of Gao-Yuan’s bold methods, worried that one day he might prescribe a lethal dose of Fuzi (aconite), and his heart couldn’t take it.

Gao-Yuan handed the prescription to Nurse He Yu and instructed Aunt Wei, "There’s a stove in the back. Go and brew this for Uncle Wei to drink."

"Alright," Aunt Wei answered promptly.

After taking care of this, Gao-Yuan pulled up a table and sat down next to Zhao Huanzhang, ready to see patients.

Although the clinic was crowded with patients, few approached Gao-Yuan. For one, he looked too young. And two, his reputation seemed too incredible, with talk of miracles like raising the dead, leaving them unsure.

People exchanged nervous glances but hesitated to approach.

Zhao Huanzhang, meanwhile, had the longest line—after all, he was the trusted, seasoned doctor.

It wasn’t until a few patients with milder conditions grew impatient that they finally lined up at Gao-Yuan’s table.

Gao-Yuan glanced at Li Shengli across the room and couldn’t help but smile bitterly. How had he ended up in the same boat as Li Shengli, relegated to treating the lightest cases?

But he shrugged it off. These patients still needed treatment, and he proceeded to diagnose and prescribe for them one by one.

Unlike Li Shengli, who scratched his head in frustration, Gao-Yuan exuded a calm, composed demeanor, which gradually instilled confidence in the waiting patients. Soon, more of them started lining up in front of him.

Before long, Gao-Yuan’s line had also grown.

Seeing that her son was fine, Gao-Yuan’s mother finally relaxed and sat down nearby.

Yang Degui’s father, unsure of whom to discuss the clinic’s inspections with, frowned as he smoked, wondering when the patients would be cured.

Yang Degui, meanwhile, shot a disgruntled look at Gao-Yuan, muttering under his breath, "Show-off."

Just then, he glanced over at Uncle Wei—and was startled by what he saw. He shouted, "Hey, Uncle Wei, why are you steaming?"

His loud voice drew everyone’s attention.

They saw Uncle Wei drenched in sweat, his clothes clinging to him, with beads of sweat rolling down his face like streams. White steam rose from his head, trailing into the air.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Huanzhang hurriedly stood up. One look, and he collapsed back into his chair, exclaiming in horror, "It’s over! Too much sweating! His Yang energy is collapsing!"

Shen Congyun’s lips trembled as he stammered, “This is bad, this is really bad! I told you we shouldn’t have used mahuang and guizhi. I knew something serious would happen!”

Gao-Yuan raised his head, only to see that the queue in front of him had completely disappeared. The small line of patients who had been waiting to see him had fled in fear.