An Answer as Vivid as a Painting

The sudden voice stunned everyone in the room.

Someone had actually stepped forward to answer a question that even the university's top student could not solve?

In their astonishment, everyone present, including Mo Duoduo, turned toward the source of the voice.

At some point, a plainly dressed young man had risen in the back row. His features were well proportioned and sharply defined, and though his hair was short, it had an airy elegance.

"Fourth, have you fucking lost it?" When Eldest and the others in the back row saw Jun Wangchen suddenly stand, they froze, then widened their eyes and hissed at him to stop.

Even Mo Duoduo, the university's top student, could not answer Professor He's question. That alone showed how difficult it was.

Jun Wangchen's grades probably did not even place him among the top thirty in his department. Compared with Mo Duoduo, he was worlds apart—a firefly beside the brilliant moon.

How could a firefly illuminate a place beyond even the moon's reach?

Qiu Ya glanced at Jun Wangchen from the middle rows and sneered. "Some people really have no shame. If even our campus beauty Mo can't manage it, how could a washed-up loser rolling his eyes possibly do it? Just think how much he'll have to answer for if he costs the whole class their participation marks!"

"Hey, Qiu Ya, watch what you say. Don't hurt his confidence. His mother works hard sweeping the streets every day for a little money, after all. Show some understanding." Beside her, Qin Shou patted her shoulder in a show of reprimand, but anyone could see the mockery and contempt on his face.

The entire classroom fell silent. Nobody spoke.

Although they did not entirely approve of Qin Shou and Qiu Ya's harsh remarks, and some even felt they had gone too far, Jun Wangchen was certainly being reckless by standing up to tackle something beyond even the university's top student.

In the back row, Jun Wangchen's expression remained calm, betraying neither sorrow nor joy. Yet the anger and coldness in his eyes had reached their peak.

He was just about to speak when Eldest dug at his ear and asked Second loudly, "Second, did you let that stray dog you picked up from the rubbish heap yesterday out again?"

"No, I've kept it locked in the toilet," Second played along.

Eldest feigned confusion. "That's strange. Why can I hear that stray dog here, then? Am I hearing things?"

"You're not hearing things. I heard it too. But that noise came from a person. Honestly, I really admire anyone who can sound just like a stray dog. Not everyone has that kind of talent." Third twirled his pen and snickered.

The three traded seemingly nonsensical remarks, but as Qin Shou listened, his face instantly darkened.

Weren't Jun Wangchen's three roommates calling him that stray dog?

Fuming, Qin Shou gritted his teeth and was about to unleash a torrent of abuse when He Ming tapped the desk and frowned. "Quiet, all of you. Since you want to try, young man, please come up and answer."

In truth, he had little faith in Jun Wangchen. He knew exactly how tricky this question was. Never mind Jinling University—even at Yanjing University, the country's foremost institution, no more than a handful of people could answer it.

But since Jun Wangchen had already stood, he could hardly refuse him. After all, he was the one who had posed the question.

"Yes, Professor He!" Jun Wangchen nodded and walked toward the front, ignoring the strange looks everyone gave him.

As Jun Wangchen passed them, Qin Shou and Qiu Ya exchanged a glance, a trace of mockery flashing in both their eyes.

Eldest and the others broke into a cold sweat for Jun Wangchen. They could not understand why he had suddenly volunteered to answer. He had always kept a low profile; they had never seen him draw attention to himself like this.

There were more than two hundred people present. If Jun Wangchen gave an irrelevant answer, what awaited him would be not only ridicule, but also the resentment of everyone who lost their participation marks.

In the front row, Mo Duoduo's expression did not change. She merely lowered her gaze to her book, as though nobody else had anything to do with her.

Before long, Jun Wangchen reached the lectern, his face as still as an ancient well.

The room remained silent. Even the rustle of wind against the windows could be heard.

Jun Wangchen swept his gaze across the room, taking in every kind of look: confusion, doubt, mockery, and disdain.

He paid them no heed. He simply ran through the section "Differentiating the Pulses, Signs, and Treatment of Sudden Vomiting and Diarrhea" from the Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases in his mind, then began.

"Question: What is the illness known as sudden turmoil? Answer: Vomiting accompanied by diarrhea is called sudden turmoil."

"Question: When an illness presents with fever, headache, bodily pain, aversion to cold, vomiting, and diarrhea, what illness is this? Answer: This is called sudden turmoil. After vomiting and purging, the diarrhea ceases, only for fever to arise again."

Jun Wangchen's calm, unruffled voice flowed gently through the room, leisurely yet elegant. Everyone seemed to see a refined poet holding a mighty brush, setting down all the world's finest prose.

Mo Duoduo, who had been quietly reading in the front row, went still. She slowly raised her head and fixed her gaze on Jun Wangchen, looking surprised, yet also as though she were pondering something.

"This..." Eldest and the others exchanged looks, astonishment filling their eyes.

"No way..." Qiu Ya and Qin Shou stared in disbelief, unable to accept what they were witnessing.

Could Jun Wangchen really answer this question?

Jun Wangchen took in the changing looks around the room, but his face remained calm, his delivery as composed as ever.

"In cold damage, when the pulse is faint and rough, the illness was originally sudden turmoil but has now become cold damage. After four or five days, it reaches the yin channels and turns inward to yin, and diarrhea must follow. If vomiting and diarrhea were present from the outset, it cannot be treated. If the patient feels the urge to defecate but instead passes wind, with no further diarrhea, the condition belongs to yangming. The stool will inevitably harden, and recovery will come on the thirteenth day, because the passage through the channels has run its course."

"For sudden turmoil with headache, fever, and bodily pain, when heat predominates and the patient wishes to drink water, use Five-Ingredient Powder with Poria. When cold predominates and the patient does not desire water, use the Regulate the Middle Pill."

"After diarrhea, the stool should harden. If it hardens and the patient can eat, recovery follows. If the patient instead cannot eat, but becomes somewhat able to eat during the next passage through the channels, then able to eat after another passage, recovery should follow one day later. If recovery does not occur, the condition does not belong to yangming."

The room remained quiet, but a note of shock had suddenly entered that silence.

His answer flowed without the slightest hesitation, as though a master orator were delivering a speech on a world stage.

To check whether Jun Wangchen was correct, many people took out their phones and searched online for the original text of "Differentiating the Pulses, Signs, and Treatment of Sudden Vomiting and Diarrhea" in the Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases. When they discovered that his answer matched perfectly, they were too stunned to speak.

This was the most difficult, complicated, and obscure section in the entire Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases!

The mocking smiles on Qiu Ya's and Qin Shou's faces slowly froze. They could not believe the scene before them.

Who was that standing at the front?

A broke bastard, a piece of trash whose mother swept the streets!

So what was happening now?

Someone they considered utterly worthless, someone they believed would spend his entire life at the bottom of society, was answering Professor He's question as smoothly as if he were reciting a memorized text.

The result was like a torrential downpour, abruptly extinguishing the little flame of mockery in their hearts.

"Is that really Fourth?" Eldest and the others slapped themselves, as though checking whether they were dreaming.

The old Jun Wangchen had done nothing but hide in a corner watching short videos, a complete shut-in loser. When had he ever carried himself like the man at the front now, every gesture exuding the air of someone surveying the world and stirring hearts with his words?

Perhaps the most astonished of all was He Ming.

He had been teaching for more than forty years. He knew clinical medicine inside out, and over that time, he had encountered plenty of gifted prodigies.

Yet he had never met a student like Jun Wangchen, who not only recited the section "Differentiating the Pulses, Signs, and Treatment of Sudden Vomiting and Diarrhea" from the Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases with perfect clarity, but also created an atmosphere of effortless grace and poetic beauty.

At that moment, he no longer felt that Jun Wangchen was answering a question. Instead, he saw a consummate grandmaster whose insight illuminated the world and reached across ten thousand miles, radiating a brilliance that nourished all living things and bestowed blessings in every direction.

The stir in the room did not make Jun Wangchen nervous in the slightest. Instead, he grew even calmer, his measured delivery effortless and thought-provoking.

"Formula for the Regulate the Middle Pill: ginseng, sweet and warm; licorice, honey-fried, sweet and neutral; white atractylodes, sweet and warm; dried ginger, pungent and hot. Three liang of each."

"Grind and sift these four ingredients into powder, then mix with honey to form pills the size of an egg yolk. Add one pill to several ge of boiling water, crush it, and take warm, three times by day and twice by night. If the abdomen has not warmed, increase the dose to three or four pills. Yet the pills are less effective than a decoction. For the decoction, cut the four ingredients in the amounts specified, add eight sheng of water, and boil down to three sheng. Remove the dregs and take one sheng warm, three times daily."

"For abdominal fullness, remove the white atractylodes and add one piece of aconite root. After taking the decoction, wait about the time it takes to eat a meal, then drink roughly one sheng of hot congee. Keep gently warm, and do not throw off clothing or bedding."

Time slipped slowly by. The classroom rang with nothing but Jun Wangchen's unhurried voice. His cadence was as deft as brushing a willow, as exquisite as plucking a flower; his bearing held the watchfulness of an eagle and wolf, the majestic stride of a dragon and tiger. It made him seem taller, imposing and filled with wisdom.

Nobody cared anymore what Jun Wangchen was saying. They were completely immersed in his commanding presence, as though he stood with a hand on his sword, surveying boundless lands.

In the front row, Mo Duoduo's heart shook as though a torrent had crashed down from a tremendous height, leaving her unable to regain her composure.

Jun Wangchen's words were like the greatest music, scarcely heard yet sweeping away gloom, like clouds parting to reveal a clear blue sky. They were lightning piercing the darkness of night, sunlight tearing through black clouds. In an instant, they felt like sweet dew upon the tongue, making one understand that eternal truth truly existed in this world.

A thunderbolt from a clear sky, a sudden awakening—perhaps neither could describe even a fraction of Jun Wangchen's brilliance!

Drifting clouds over Mount Wu, flowing waters of the Yangtze—perhaps neither could compare to Jun Wangchen's literary talent!

To bring a medical text to life to such a degree—this was nothing short of divine genius!

Five minutes later, Jun Wangchen's voice gradually fell silent.

But the classroom was utterly still, so quiet that even the fall of a pin could have been heard...