Mr. Mengfei

After seeing one patient that afternoon, Su Ziyang had no more.

Su Ziyang kept leafing through the Essential Prescriptions of the Golden Cabinet in his hands until he got off work at five in the afternoon.

It was his first day seeing patients, and he had seen one.

Although there had only been one, Su Ziyang was quite satisfied.

He was confident he could cure such a simple cold and cough.

Work was over.

Su Ziyang had rented an apartment in a residential complex next to the Daoist Medicine Clinic. A Daoist priest friend of his had found it for him.

It was forty square meters, more than enough for Su Ziyang to live in alone.

After getting home, Su Ziyang took a shower and lay down comfortably on the bed.

He had been nervous all day, his first day seeing patients.

Once he got home, he suddenly relaxed. Fatigue gradually closed in around him.

His eyelids grew heavy, and before long, Su Ziyang fell asleep.

When he woke, it was already past ten at night.

Su Ziyang felt parched, and his throat was uncomfortable too.

"Ugh, too much internal heat." He got up for a glass of water.

This was a recurring problem for Su Ziyang. Whenever he got overly nervous, he would wake up like this after sleeping.

Su Ziyang sat on the edge of the bed and stared into space.

Books lay scattered at the head of the bed: some on traditional Chinese medicine, along with novels, magazines, and comics. Su Ziyang's head felt heavy, and he was not fully awake yet. He was in no mood to read, either.

As Su Ziyang sat there in a daze, a WeChat message arrived on his phone. The contact was saved as Fairy Li, his Daoist priest friend.

Besides traditional Chinese medicine, Su Ziyang was also quite interested in metaphysics and the like, and he had met this Daoist priest friend by chance.

The priest was a kundao-that is, a female Daoist priest.

Su Ziyang often asked her about matters of metaphysics, and over time, the two gradually grew close.

"Xiao Su, how was work today? Something came up in our sect, so I had to go out of town. Otherwise, I could have visited you at the Daoist Medicine Clinic today!" It was a voice message, and Fairy Li's babyish voice came through.

Su Ziyang had never understood why an adult's voice sounded like a child's. He had once thought Fairy Li was putting it on, using what people called a forced cutesy voice.

But after knowing her for a long time, Su Ziyang realized she was not pretending. That was simply how Fairy Li sounded.

"Thank you for asking, Fairy Li. Work went well today. Everyone made me feel welcome, and I like the environment too!" Fairy Li had introduced him to the job, and Su Ziyang was indeed quite satisfied with it.

"All right. As long as you can settle in. I'll come see you when I'm done with my work. I'll let you go now, I've got things to do."

Su Ziyang smiled as he listened to the message.

People said one should not ask a Daoist's age, but Su Ziyang guessed Fairy Li was a few years older than him.

Perhaps it was fate. Fairy Li had always treated Su Ziyang like a little brother.

After tidying up his bedding, Su Ziyang drifted back into dreamland. He had work the next day.

The night passed without incident.

At seven thirty the next morning, Su Ziyang arrived at his consultation room on time.

A few Daoist priests had already arrived early, and they exchanged greetings.

Su Ziyang knew he did not have many patients, so he went back to reading on his own.

In the middle of the morning, a commotion suddenly arose outside.

A cheerful voice could be heard greeting people nonstop, saying over and over, "Compassion, compassion."

Su Ziyang was just about to get up and see what was happening when two figures appeared in the doorway.

The one in front was the old Daoist priest who had been in charge of the Daoist Medicine Clinic yesterday.

A middle-aged man followed behind the old priest.

The man looked strange.

If you said he was old, a close look at his features showed he was young.

But if you said he was young, he gave the distinct impression of being middle-aged.

Su Ziyang had not yet figured out what was going on when the young-looking middle-aged man smiled and said in heavily accented Mandarin, "Haha, I heard a top student had joined the Daoist Medicine Clinic, so I came especially to see you."

Su Ziyang thought the man was awfully familiar for a stranger.

The old Daoist priest seemed to know how readily the man acted familiar. He entered the room and explained to Su Ziyang, "Xiao Su, this is Mr. Mengfei. He's a cultivator and a man of remarkable medical skill. We've been friends for many years. He heard a graduate student had joined the clinic, so he came to see you. I hope we're not being too forward."

After hearing the old priest's explanation, Su Ziyang understood. He cupped his hands to Mr. Mengfei and said, "Hello!"

Mr. Mengfei smiled. "Quite polite, aren't you?"

The old Daoist priest was usually busy. After making the introduction, he said to Mr. Mengfei, "You two have a chat first. I have things to do. Mengfei, come find me at the Daoist temple in a little while."

Mr. Mengfei nodded to show he understood.

Su Ziyang, on the other hand, was baffled. Someone he did not know had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. What did two strangers have to talk about?

While Su Ziyang was bewildered, Mr. Mengfei made himself at home. He sat down in the chair beside the consultation desk and picked up the Essential Prescriptions of the Golden Cabinet from Su Ziyang's desk.

Su Ziyang did not know what to say, so he sat back down in his seat.

For a moment, the atmosphere was a little awkward.

Mr. Mengfei paid it no mind. He leafed through the book and put it down again.

"Can you treat patients after graduating from university?"

The abrupt question broke the silence.

"What kind of question is that?" Su Ziyang was a little annoyed. "If I couldn't treat patients, what would I be doing here?"

Mr. Mengfei heard the displeasure in Su Ziyang's voice, but he did not get upset. He wore the same cheerful expression.

Then he asked, "Can you take a pulse, then?"

Su Ziyang fell silent.

The question had truly lodged in Su Ziyang's throat, leaving him stifled and sickened.

It was true. Su Ziyang could not.

Seeing that Su Ziyang did not answer, Mr. Mengfei pointed to the Essential Prescriptions of the Golden Cabinet on the desk and said slowly, "Judging by the condition of your book, you read it often, don't you?"

Su Ziyang nodded.

"Then I trust you've read the preface written by Zhongjing, the Medical Sage!" As he spoke, Mr. Mengfei slowly recited a passage in classical Chinese: "Observe the physicians of today. They do not seek the principles of the classics to expand their knowledge. Each inherits a family art and follows old habits from beginning to end. When examining illness and asking about disease, they concern themselves with glib speech. After facing a patient for but a moment, they prescribe a decoction. They press the cun position without reaching the chi, take the hand without examining the foot, and fail to compare the three sites of renying, fuyang, and the wrist. Counting the pulse against the breath, they do not reach fifty beats. In so short a time, they cannot know enough to make a definitive diagnosis, nor do they gain even an approximate sense of the nine indicators. They fail entirely to inspect the mingtang and queting. This is what is called peering through a tube. To hope thereby to distinguish death from life is truly difficult."

Su Ziyang was dumbfounded.

This passage was from the preface written by the Medical Sage Zhang Zhongjing for the Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases.

It described how some physicians of the time clung to their inherited family arts like treasured old brooms and looked down on others in their arrogance. When diagnosing patients, they scarcely took their pulses, relying only on questioning and casting the three methods of observation, listening and smelling, and palpation to the back of their minds.

Su Ziyang suddenly realized that it was describing him. Although he had read the book many times, he had never carefully pondered the preface.

Today, though, Mr. Mengfei's leisurely recitation echoed over and over in Su Ziyang's mind like a thunderclap that shook the heavens!

Recalling how he had treated his patient yesterday, Su Ziyang, who had been pleased with himself, suddenly felt a pang of discomfort. He was not even as good as the physicians in the preface. At least they had unique skills passed down in their families; he had nothing.

Mr. Mengfei looked at the stunned Su Ziyang and smiled again. "I didn't remember that passage wrong, did I?"

Su Ziyang shook his head to indicate he had not. Not only had he remembered it correctly, he had not missed a single word.

"Then since you can't take a pulse, how can you say you know how to treat patients?" Mr. Mengfei continued.

By now, Mr. Mengfei's few remarks had made Su Ziyang's eyes turn red.

That was right!

He could not even take a pulse. Su Ziyang considered himself a lover of traditional Chinese medicine, and while he was in school, he had constantly proclaimed his love for the Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases.

After reading the book over and over, he had not even understood its preface. Instead, he had become the very kind of physician described in the Medical Sage's preface.

Su Ziyang's eyes were a little red.

He stared hard at the smiling Mr. Mengfei before him. He wanted to speak, but his throat had tightened, and he could not get the words out.

After a pause of several minutes, Su Ziyang finally squeezed a question out of his mouth. "Can you take a pulse?"

Mr. Mengfei wore the same expression. He neither denied nor admitted it, only looking quietly at Su Ziyang.

The atmosphere sank into silence once more.

Clack, clack, clack. Footsteps sounded.

Then a voice like a silver bell broke the heavy silence. "Martial uncle, Master needs you."

It was Daoist Master Xiao Yang.

Daoist Master Xiao Yang had called Mr. Mengfei her martial uncle.

When Mr. Mengfei saw Daoist Master Xiao Yang, his face immediately broke into a broad smile. "Oh, it's Xiao Yang. I'm coming, I'm coming."

With that, the two seemed to have something urgent to attend to and hurried away.

Su Ziyang was left standing alone in the room in a daze.

Su Ziyang stood there for a while, then sat down in the chair, only to get up again.

He picked up his backpack and took out the Treatise on Cold Damage. Opening it, he carefully read the preface the Medical Sage Zhang Zhongjing had written at the beginning.

The preface was short, only four paragraphs.

Mr. Mengfei had just recited the second-to-last paragraph.

Su Ziyang suddenly realized that it was as though he had never read the preface carefully before.

After reading it seriously two or three times,

he suddenly realized how ridiculous he had been before.

He had actually thought himself capable of treating patients and had even wanted to open his own traditional Chinese medicine clinic.

At that moment, Su Ziyang could not hold it in anymore.

Feeling lost, Su Ziyang slowly closed the book and pondered what it said.

He suddenly felt that he should learn to take pulses.

But where was he supposed to start?

Teach himself? Read the old texts?

He could not teach himself. There were quite a few ancient books on pulse diagnosis, such as the most famous one, Binhu's Pulse Studies, written by Li Shizhen of the Ming dynasty. Su Ziyang had read some of it himself, but he could not understand it at all.

Even when a slippery pulse was described as feeling like pearls rolling around a plate, he could not feel it at all. Thinking of this, Su Ziyang wanted to chop off his own fingers.

Learn from someone else?

The Daoist priests at the Daoist Medicine Clinic probably knew how to take pulses, didn't they?

At that thought, Su Ziyang shook his head and quickly rejected the idea.

Before he came, Fairy Li had already boasted about him to them, saying he was a top student and exceptionally capable.

But that was not the main issue. The main issue was that he had come here to work, not as a student intern. If he did not treat patients and instead learned from others while they paid him a salary, that would be outrageous!

Alas! He hesitated, with no way forward!

Su Ziyang let out a sigh.