Zhao Changgui led Xu Xiangbei into his clinic’s main hall, where they were greeted by a painting of the Shennong Hundred Herbs Map. The artwork was elegantly sharp, penetrating.
Beside it hung the Herbal Soup Song, with its characters majestically written, exuding a sense of grandeur: "Shennong’s hundreds of herbs cure the world, skillful hands with a benevolent heart aid mankind."
Along the walls were rows of brightly colored mahogany dicine cabinets, clearly made of high-quality cypress, emitting a faint scent of traditional Chinese dicine.
Xu Xiangbei couldn’t help but nod silently, thinking the place was quite well decorated, but it was a sha that the lack of dical ethics wasted such a good clinic.
Zhao Changgui sat lightly on a purple sandalwood armchair, crossing his legs with a proud face: "Young man, how do you want to compete?"
Xu Xiangbei glanced around. Seeing nurous prescriptions on the table, he asked: "Are there any patients you couldn’t treat on their first visit and had to co back for a follow-up?"
Zhao Changgui replied: "Yes, traditional Chinese dicine emphasizes the balance of Yin and Yang, expelling evil and supporting the righteous. It’s not sothing that works overnight, it takes ti..."
"Don’t spew so much big talk, it’s just quackery, deceiving kids. I can cure them right away."
Left and right, calling him a quack and a fraud, Zhao Changgui was left red-faced, suppressing his anger, "Fine, I’ll find a patient, and let’s see how you cure him instantly."
"No need to find one, just pick at random."
Xu Xiangbei maintained that lazy, irritating smile. Instead of sitting on the fine sandalwood chair, he chose Zhao Changgui’s desk where he saw patients, and sat down on the stethoscope on the desk.
Zhao Jinhai angrily snatched the stethoscope from under him, accidentally pulling too hard and breaking the tube.
Xu Xiangbei chuckled, "Why so rash? Why break the stethoscope? You have too much money to spend?"
Xu Xiangbei casually picked a prescription from the pile on the table, reading it aloud: "Ding Yong, left arm ridian blockage, difficulty in movent, Yin deficiency with excessive fire, evil Qi flourishing, so prescribed with Huang Cen, Ku Shen, Ban Xia...
"Him, let’s go with Ding Yong. Your prescription is nonsense, utterly quackery, quack dicine."
Zhang Xiaoli tried to please her boss, Zhao Changgui, saying: "Don’t talk nonsense. Our Dr. Zhao is a Divine Doctor. Ding Yong nearly had his arm amputated, but Dr. Zhao treated him significantly with just a few dicines. What ability do you have to cure instantly?"
Xu Xiangbei snorted coldly, pointing at Zhang Xiaoli, "You girl, dare to babble in front of . I’m adding another condition. If I win, not only do I want to destroy the signboard, but also slap you fifty tis."
Zhang Xiaoli turned pale with fright, but she believed in her boss’s dical skills and stubbornly said: "Fine, if you lose, I also want to slap you fifty tis."
Xu Xiangbei gave an evil smile, "If you don’t court trouble, there won’t be any. You’re asking for it. Don’t beg for rcy then."
"Beg for rcy from you, what a joke, let’s see who dies first."
Soon after, Zhao Jinhai ca in with a portly fifty-year-old man, belly protruding. His left arm hung limply, out of sync with his walking posture, as if trailing a rope.
Ding Yong entered, bowed to Zhao Changgui who was sitting there, "Hello, Divine Doctor Zhao."
Zhao Changgui didn’t even lift his head, nodding coldly and pointing at Xu Xiangbei, "This young doctor wants to examine you, go let him have a look."
Ding Yong glanced at Xu Xiangbei, frowning.
He had been waiting outside for his turn, hearing there was a young miracle doctor competing with Dr. Zhao and he was picked for the test.
For the past six months, he had been seeking treatnt everywhere, having seen many doctors, though unable to cure his ailnt, they at least looked professional.
But Xu Xiangbei sat boldly on the desk, smoking, with a rogue’s smirk, not at all like a doctor.
Noticing Ding Yong’s suspicion, Xu Xiangbei puffed a smoke ring, inspecting him, "What’s wrong with your arm?"
Ding Yong detailed his condition.
Last winter, he injured his arm. An X-ray showed no broken bones, just so pain, and he thought nothing of it, maybe just a sprain. So anti-inflammatory drugs should solve it in a few days.
Unexpectedly, each night his arm began to feel piercing pain, the worst part being his left hand gradually lost sensation. He visited several hospitals, including the renowned Capital Yanjing Hospital, consulting over ten specialists who couldn’t cure it.
The specialists said the problem was with the ridians, which couldn’t be touched, seen, or easily treated—only with physiotherapy. He underwent several months of physiotherapy, with no improvent and the condition worsening.
Returning to the specialists, they regretfully suggested amputation was the only remaining option if physiotherapy failed.
Last week, on a recomndation, he ca to the Tongren Clinic. To his surprise, Dr. Zhao’s prescriptions worked wonders; after taking the dicine, the pain significantly subsided.
However, his arm was still numb, and if he stopped the dication, the pain worsened.
After recounting his ailnt, Ding Yong asked anxiously, "Young doctor, can you cure my condition?"
Xu Xiangbei, unconcerned, blew a smoke ring, grinning, "No problem, I can cure it. Those quacks couldn’t, but I can. I can make your arm move today."
Hearing his condition could be cured, Ding Yong went from despair to joy, almost kneeling in thanks.
A disdainful laugh ca from Zhao Jinhai, "Boast away, what an exaggerator."
While eating sunflower seeds, Zhang Xiaoli chid in, "Shaless, talking as if he can really cure it."
Xu Xiangbei wasn’t angry, playfully patting Ding Yong’s arm, "Can you lift your arm?"
Ding Yong shook his head helplessly. Suddenly, Xu Xiangbei struck his left shoulder hard.
Ding Yong scread like a slaughtered pig, his face pale from pain, cold sweat beading on his forehead, tears falling, "Oh my, murder! Kid, we have no grudge. Do you want to kill ?"
Beside him, Zhao Jinhai eagerly questioned, as if accusing, pointing at Xu Xiangbei, "Are you treating or killing people? Claiming you can instantly cure, looks more like killing."
Zhang Xiaoli mocked with her lips painted bright red like blood, "With that level, you dare challenge our Divine Doctor Zhao? Overestimating yourself."
The onlookers shook their heads, comnting on how reckless it was to treat an injured arm that way. Youngsters, lacking experience, couldn’t handle serious matters.
Sitting in the armchair, Zhao Changgui smirked coldly. While appearing unperturbed, he was actually worried that Xu Xiangbei might have so skills to cure Ding Yong.
Seeing Xu Xiangbei inflict pain on Ding Yong’s arm reassured him. This guy was just a scamr, giving him a scare.
But Xu Xiangbei didn’t care, picking up the broken stethoscope from the desk, throwing it at Zhao Jinhai: "What are you shouting about? Keep it up, and I’ll sew your mouth shut."
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