Hearing Miao Ran’s challenge, the patient’s son couldn’t help but ask, “Dr. Gao, is there any scientific basis for applying medicine to the tongue?”
Busy administering medication to the patient’s tongue, Gao-Yuan replied without looking up, “Don’t listen to her nitpicking. Don’t Western doctors use nitroglycerin tablets under the tongue to treat angina?”
The patient’s son immediately turned to look at Miao Ran.
Miao Ran clarified, “We administer medicine under the tongue to avoid the first-pass effect, allowing medication to be absorbed immediately through the capillaries of the oral mucosa, achieving an emergency response. It’s not limited to heart medication but includes drugs for lowering blood pressure and treating stomach ulcers. This doesn’t mean the tongue is directly connected to the heart; sublingual absorption also delivers the drug through the bloodstream.”
Gao-Yuan nodded. “What you said makes sense.”
Surprised by Gao-Yuan’s willingness to concede, Miao Ran pressed further, “So, do you think the theory that the tongue is the seedling of the heart works through the capillaries, entering the bloodstream that way? Or do you believe there’s an invisible meridian linking the tongue and heart?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Gao-Yuan replied frankly.
Seeing him caught off guard, Miao Ran glanced back with a hint of smugness.
The doctors watching wore expressions of mild disdain. For all Gao-Yuan’s bluster, didn’t he just get stumped?
Zhao Huanzhang sighed quietly, looking at Gao-Yuan with sympathy. He’d once found himself in a similar bind, unsure how Gao-Yuan would handle the situation.
Reflecting on his own past embarrassment, Zhao thought, This woman really is tough to deal with.
Sensing the upper hand, Miao Ran continued, “So, Dr. Gao also has things he can’t explain. People were saying the entire city hospital couldn’t match up to you. I wonder who spread that nonsense and tarnished your reputation.”
But Gao-Yuan paid her little mind.
Miao Ran shook her head, thinking that Chinese medicine’s logic was inherently flawed. No matter how famous the practitioners—whether it was Li Runyu, the best in the county, Yan Qiao, the Deputy Director of the Health Association, or Dr. Zhao Huanzhang—none could answer her questions.
Meanwhile, Zhao Huanzhang hung back, quietly strategising how to console Gao-Yuan.
Dr. Qiao and Dr. Xiao exchanged glances, silently noting how even Gao-Yuan had faltered under Miao Ran’s interrogation. She was quite the adversary.
The patient’s son, too, was taken aback. This highly esteemed Dr. Gao was rendered speechless! His impression of Gao Yuan was starting to crumble. Had Qi Dongsheng exaggerated? Or was their last successful treatment just a fortunate accident?
Growing increasingly anxious, the patient’s son finally couldn’t bear it and approached Gao-Yuan to speak.
Without missing a beat, Gao-Yuan handed him a small bowl.
The patient’s son reflexively took it, momentarily confused, and was about to voice his doubts when Gao-Yuan interrupted, “Your father’s waking up.”
“What?” The patient’s son thought he’d misheard.
Gao-Yuan gently squeezed the patient’s left hand and foot, which had previously been rigid but now showed considerable improvement.
“Dad!” the patient’s son exclaimed, hurriedly setting the bowl aside.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The doctors behind him were equally stunned.
Zhao Huanzhang, who had been huddling in the corner, jumped forward, startled.
Even Miao Ran was taken aback. They’d worked for hours with little result, and now Gao-Yuan had revived the patient with a half-hour treatment?
The doctors exchanged bewildered glances, shocked by the rapid effect.
“Dad, how are you?” the son called, eagerly leaning in.
“Mm,” the patient murmured, his mind gradually clearing, though he still struggled to speak.
This alone filled the patient’s son with joy. He turned to Gao-Yuan and clutched his hand, now singing his praises. “You’re a miracle worker!”
Gao-Yuan shook his head with a smile, then looked at Miao Ran. “I’m no miracle worker; didn’t you see I was just stumped a moment ago?”
The patient’s son turned to Miao Ran, chuckling with a hint of sarcasm. “What good is talking if it can’t cure? If debate’s your strength, why not go into PR?”
Embarrassment coloured Miao Ran’s cheeks.
The doctors behind her also looked uncomfortable.
Gao-Yuan stepped in to explain, “Let’s not be too harsh. Their oxygen, blood pressure reduction, and IV administration were essential supports. Otherwise, the treatment wouldn’t have worked so quickly.”
Miao Ran stared at Gao-Yuan in disbelief, surprised that, after her antagonism, he would still vouch for her.
The other doctors were equally stunned at Gao Yuan’s magnanimity. If it were them, they likely wouldn’t handle it with such grace.
The patient’s son, following Gao-Yuan’s lead, softened as well.
Gao-Yuan turned to the group and said, “Shall we check the patient’s blood pressure?”
Dr. Xiao promptly brought over the equipment.
With a light sigh, Gao-Yuan appeared more at ease, then addressed Miao Ran, “I didn’t have time earlier to respond to your question.”
Miao Ran’s face fell. She’d known it wouldn’t be easy for him to let this go.
The other doctors waited tensely, wondering if Gao-Yuan would retaliate.
Zhao Huanzhang grew anxious, torn between concern for Gao-Yuan’s reputation and fearing a rift.
Gao-Yuan began, “In emergency treatments for comatose patients, we often administer medicine via the tongue, following the theories that the tongue reflects the heart and the heart governs consciousness. Applied properly, this method swiftly rouses patients.”
He continued, “I don’t know if the medicine enters the bloodstream through the capillaries, according to our theory that it travels to the heart meridian. Or if, as per your theory, it reaches the brain. That’s not for me to decide; it’s something you should study since it’s based on Western medical theory.”
“Traditional Chinese and Western medical theories do diverge but aren’t entirely contradictory. We both use sublingual administration. You discuss blood circulation; we discuss meridian channels. But the ultimate goal is the same—healing the patient.”
“If our aims align, why not seek unity in our goals and allow for differences in our methods? In treating this stroke patient, you used life-supporting techniques to prevent complications. I used our heart-calming, tongue-pointing method. Didn’t we ultimately achieve our shared goal?”
The room fell silent as everyone absorbed his words.
Zhao Huanzhang, still in the back, was struck by déjà vu, recalling the flu pandemic and how Gao-Yuan had commanded respect, his own reputation as the clinic’s “rebel” completely reformed.
Good heavens, Gao-Commissioner is back! Zhao thought, almost seeing a halo above Gao-Yuan’s head.
Miao Ran’s cheeks flushed with shame; Gao-Yuan’s perspective was on another level. While she’d focused on verbal sparring, he was already speaking of unity.
Dr. Xiao, examining the blood pressure gauge, reported, “Blood pressure is down to 200 over 180.”
The crowd turned to Gao-Yuan.
“The policy now encourages hospitals with research capabilities to have Western doctors study Chinese medicine. Nantong, for instance, is researching the Jide Sheng snakebite medicine—it’s been in the papers several times. The effort to have Western doctors study Chinese medicine isn’t about competition.”
“It’s to increase understanding and promote collaboration. We hope you’ll research Chinese medicine and expand its benefits to more patients. Personally, I hope we can work together, combining our strengths to cure more people. Because that’s the unity we should strive for.”
“Bravo!” Dr. Qiao began clapping for Gao-Yuan.
Miao Ran looked both embarrassed and humbled by his words.
To lighten the mood, Dr. Qiao joked, “It’s an honour to work with Dr. Gao—after all, one man’s talent outmatches the entire city hospital!”
Gao-Yuan shook his head with a smile. “Just a little joke that got blown out of proportion.”
Others chuckled, finally easing the tension.
Zhao Huanzhang also cracked a smile.
Just then, a young man appeared at the doorway, knocking and asking, “Excuse me, I just came from the New Life Clinic downstairs and heard Dr. Gao-Yuan is here at the county hospital.”
Everyone turned towards Gao-Yuan.
“Yes?” Gao-Yuan replied.
The young man hesitated before asking, “You’re the doctor who cured Director Qi Dongsheng’s grandson, right? You mentioned accepting patients discharged in critical condition from the city hospital. Is that correct?”
Gao-Yuan frozen for a second.
The others shared weary expressions. Well, well, they thought, people are starting to seek him out by reputation.
Before Dr. Qiao could respond, the young man added, "So... would you also accept critical patients from the provincial hospital?”