"Besides Qi Lue, we also found complete copies of Treatise on Cold Damage and Synopsis of Golden Chamber."
As he looked at the Yongle Encyclopedia entry for Qi Lue in the display case, Zhu Qizhen's face showed a hint of emotion.
"These are all Chinese medical works that were lost to history. They hold tremendous value, both for the history of Chinese medicine and for the transmission of its medical knowledge."
"That's why, over the past few days, many Chinese medicine experts have been asking about these texts."
"Among them are many top practitioners, such as Mr. Tang Youzhi's eldest disciple, Academician Chen Keji, and the ninety-year-old Mr. Liu Jiaxiang."
As everyone knew,
compared with ancient Chinese medical texts, the more controversial subject in the present day was clearly Chinese medicine itself—or, more specifically, the profession.
The reasons behind this controversy were complicated; it wasn't simply a matter of liking or disliking it.
For instance, there was the conflict between modern and traditional medicine, ideological clashes, charlatans and amateur "experts" muddying the waters, and even political infiltration by Western countries.
Some people were thoughtless haters, while others were thoughtless fans.
Still others pretended not to understand when they actually did. They weren't denying Chinese medicine; they wanted to deny the whole of traditional Huaxia culture.
It was hard to pin down the real reasons each group supported or opposed Chinese medicine. Some so-called haters had turned against it because their family members had been killed by quack doctors. How could anyone expect them to trust Chinese medicine?
Some diehard fans of Chinese medicine constantly went on about the five elements and yin and yang, as if it could explain the entire universe. How could that possibly win over the average person?
Some haters of Chinese medicine were just as bad.