Gao-Yuan glanced at Elder Wan, then back at the child patient, his eyes flickering with a thoughtful calculation. Finally, he wrote the prescription.
Han Dai peered over his shoulder, his voice breaking the tension. “Ah, I see. A focus on expelling wind and ventilating the lungs. He's restrained with the sweating method, though. Look here, the first herb—stiff silkworm. Its primary function is to dispel wind...”
Those familiar with Han Dai had already averted their gazes, knowing this monologue all too well. The less acquainted physicians, however, remained courteous, listening to his meandering analysis with strained attention. The more he spoke, the more esoteric he seemed, leaving them awash in confusion but impressed by his apparent depth of knowledge.
Seeing that Gao-Yuan hadn’t gone completely rogue, Elder Wan’s stern expression softened—if only slightly.
With the prescription dispatched, Director Yuan Hai clapped his hands lightly. “Well, let’s not crowd the child. Let him rest. Meanwhile, we can resume our meeting. Dr. Gao, this is an opportune moment for you to share your experiences.”
“Yes, yes,” President Li interjected hastily, his anxiety palpable. Any chance to preemptively salvage the situation was a godsend.
Gao-Yuan nodded. “Let’s move to the conference room.”
As the group filed out, Han Dai blinked, realizing mid-analysis that his audience had vanished.
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In the conference room, Gao-Yuan began, his tone measured yet firm. “Based on our detailed records and analysis of the cases, it is clear that the locus of this illness lies in the lungs. However, as the disease progresses, it manifests differently—shifting between internal and external, cold and heat, deficiency and excess. Each stage demands a tailored approach; there is no one-size-fits-all prescription.”
Elder Wan’s eyebrows twitched slightly, the faintest sign of unease.
“Humans are an interconnected whole,” Gao-Yuan continued. “Meridians link, qi and blood flow as one. When one organ falls ill, it inevitably affects others, creating a domino effect. Our analysis reveals that this illness generally follows a seven-day cycle.”
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle. “In the first seven days, the condition is predominantly excess—abundant qi, virulent pathogens. At this stage, the body’s righteous energy is strong, and expelling the pathogen is the priority. Proper treatment here can prevent further deterioration. Beyond the seven days, as the righteous energy wanes, patterns of deficiency-excess emerge, necessitating a strategy of bolstering the body while expelling the remnants of the pathogen.”
The room turned collectively toward Elder Wan. Everyone recalled how staunchly he had opposed Gao-Yuan’s earlier sweating method, advocating instead for fortifying the patient’s vital energy. Now, it seemed Gao-Yuan had pivoted to align with Wan’s approach.
Elder Wan tilted his head, scrutinizing Gao-Yuan. “Have you changed your mind?”
Gao-Yuan shook his head. “Another key insight we've gained is that while the seven-day cycle provides a useful framework, it must not become a rigid doctrine.”
Elder Wan’s face darkened as he turned away, muttering under his breath. This insolent young man had baited him into a cough of exasperation.
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Some chuckled awkwardly; others remained bewildered.
Han Dai nodded approvingly from the sidelines. There was a wry grin on his face as if seeing a reflection of his own penchant for rhetorical finesse.
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Gao-Yuan’s words, however, fell on distracted ears. The city doctors, seated with an innate sense of superiority, dismissed the rural practitioner as little more than an overambitious villager.
Realizing he lacked their attention, Gao-Yuan abruptly closed his mouth.
Director Yuan Hai frowned, displeased.
President Li shifted uneasily in his seat.
Gao-Yuan glanced at his watch and broke the silence. “The child should have had enough time for the first dose to take effect. Let me check on him.”
“Agreed,” Yuan Hai said, glad for the excuse to leave.
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Downstairs, the child showed no signs of improvement.
A ripple of skepticism swept through the group. Even Han Dai appeared puzzled.
Elder Wan chuckled faintly and shook his head. “Well, at least no harm has been done. If he'd gone overboard with sweating, it could’ve been disastrous. At least this way, we avoided any major mishap.”
The derision in his tone was subtle but unmistakable.
President Li wanted to disappear into the walls, his embarrassment palpable. How had Gao-Yuan miscalculated?
Director Yuan Hai’s eyes narrowed. The glowing reports from the county had painted Gao-Yuan as a medical prodigy. Now, he seemed... ordinary. He shot a glance at Wang Hanzhang.
Under the weight of the director’s scrutiny, Wang felt his composure slipping. He hurried to Gao-Yuan’s side. “Dr. Gao, what’s going on? Why isn’t there any effect?”
Gao-Yuan remained calm. “It’s too early to draw conclusions. Let’s administer another dose.”
Elder Wan merely sighed and shook his head again.
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Even after the second dose, there was no significant improvement.
Elder Wan exhaled heavily. “This result, disappointing as it is, could have been worse. At least we avoided exacerbating the condition. Sometimes, inaction is a form of caution.”
The other doctors nodded, their smirks barely concealed.
Gao-Yuan inspected the child again. No sweat. No worsening symptoms. But the child’s limbs were warmer. A flicker of realization crossed his face. “It’s time to adjust the prescription,” he announced.
“What adjustment?” Wang asked eagerly.
“Shooting Star Decoction, with modifications,” Gao-Yuan replied.
Elder Wan’s eyes widened. “Shooting Star Decoction? Are you seriously using ephedra to induce sweating? The child didn’t sweat with scallion stalks, and now you’re escalating?”
“I understand your concerns, Elder Wan,” Gao-Yuan said, his tone firm. “I hesitated at first too. That’s why I started cautiously, using ventilating herbs. Two doses have passed with no harm, and the child’s limbs are warming—a sign that the body’s energy is responding. The problem is the exterior remains closed. To truly dispel the pathogen, I must boldly open the door. Sweat may seem damaging to the lungs, but in reality, it preserves the yin by clearing the exterior.”
The boldness of Gao-Yuan’s reasoning stunned the room into silence.
He met their gazes, his voice resolute. “I’ll say it again: the sweating method can save lives in critical moments. When the body is at the brink, expelling the pathogen can restore balance. Even in the face of danger, one must act decisively.”
The crowd gawked at him, bewildered by his audacity.
Wang exhaled deeply, wiping the sweat from his brow. For a moment, he’d feared disaster.
President Li, who moments earlier wished to vanish, now stood upright, his confidence inexplicably restored.
The city doctors, observing the rural team’s renewed vigor, exchanged incredulous looks.
Elder Wan shook his head, muttering, “In fifty years of practice, I’ve never seen someone attempt sweating in a case of yin deficiency with ephedra. If this works, I might as well...”
Wang quickly interrupted him. “Elder Wan, please, don’t say anything rash.”
Wan frowned. “Why not?”
“Well,” Wang hesitated, “let’s just say, our county’s last fifty-year practitioner hasn’t quite recovered from a similar incident...”
“What?”
Before Wan could probe further, Gao-Yuan cut in. “The child is in danger. Let’s focus.”
Wan grumbled but stepped aside.
“Administer the new prescription immediately,” Gao-Yuan commanded.
“Yes, sir!” President Li bellowed, his voice unexpectedly forceful. He blinked, surprised by how satisfying it felt.