i Dong extended the invitation sincerely, albeit a little sheepishly. He knew that by doing so, he was once again troubling Du Heng. But having heard what the female doctor had said and considering the attitudes of the child's family, he felt helpless if there were no significant new discoveries about the child's condition. Even if he managed to save the child himself, if the prognosis was poor and the child was left with a disability, judging by the family's current attitude, the child might not live long.
Therefore, i Dong thought of Du Heng. Especially after witnessing Du Heng's earlier treatnt and receiving feedback on this child's symptoms, he felt that where Western dicine fell short, Du Heng, with his understanding of pediatrics and traditional Chinese dicine, might have a solution. With this in mind, i Dong spoke out, and to his surprise, Du Heng didn't refuse and accepted directly.
Later, guided by the middle-aged female doctor, the three of them arrived at an isolation ward where a nurse was changing a baby's diaper.
i Dong approached the baby, his gaze lowered, while Du Heng stopped the nurse, who was about to leave. "Is this the child's excrent?"
The nurse looked up at Du Heng, a little stunned as she did not recognize him. However, the female doctor leading the way, who was quick-witted, understood from i Dong's earlier invitation that Du Heng must be a physician invited from outside. "Just answer whatever this doctor asks," she instructed the nurse.
Only then did the nurse nod. "Yes, the child just had a bowel movent, so I changed her."
"Open it and let see," Du Heng said.
The nurse was taken aback by this request. But with the female doctor's instruction, the nurse complied, taking the diaper from the dical waste bag and unfolding it for him.
With just one look, Du Heng's eyelids twitched. The stool was gray-white, and the urine was as dark as strong tea; this indicated that the pathogenic evil had penetrated deep into the blood network.
At this ti, i Dong had completed his check-up and picked up the nearby examination report. His expression grew increasingly somber, his brow furrowing deeply. Eventually, he sighed lightly, schooling his features back to composure. He put down the report in his hand and turned to Du Heng, saying, "President Du, please take a look."
Du Heng said nothing, rely nodding, then swapped places with i Dong. As he drew nearer, Du Heng could finally see the tiny infant clearly. Her complexion was sallow, her entire body an unhealthy shade of yellow. She lay quietly on the small bed, not fussing.
Du Heng gently pushed aside the sick child's swaddling blanket, revealing a tiny, emaciated body. When he gently shifted her body, he saw that the bedsheet beneath her was covered in fine, dark yellow powder. He lightly brushed his hand over her abdon, and yellowish flakes imdiately sloughed off her skin.
"What's the child's daily intake like?" Du Heng suddenly asked.
"She only sucks a few tis when fed and then stops; she never eats much," the female doctor quickly replied.
"Does the child usually cry a lot? Or is she always quiet, not crying or fussing, like she is now?"
"She's always like this, lying quietly. Even when she cries, her voice is so faint it's barely audible; you wouldn't even know she was crying if you weren't paying close attention."
As Du Heng asked these questions, he continued his examination. When his hand lightly touched the child's abdon, Du Heng paused, then pressed gently twice more. He couldn't help but look intently at the infant under his hand.
Both the child's liver and spleen were enlarged, each swollen to about half a finger-width below the costal margin.
This is extrely serious.
A wave of unease washed over Du Heng. He then grasped the child's wrist to perform the final step—pulse diagnosis.
But just as his fingers touched the child's arm, a chill went through him.
Generally, children have a robust constitution and should feel warm to the touch, especially in a temperature-controlled room like this, even without blankets. However, when he touched her, the child's arm was not hot, not even warm—just barely above cool. Her fingers were completely cold.
The illness... it's critical.
Du Heng sighed internally once again.
Pediatrics is different from other departnts. In ancient tis, it was known as the 'mute specialty' because young children cannot articulate their symptoms. Doctors had to rely on observing external signs, pulse diagnosis, and utilizing their own knowledge and experience to differentiate syndros and prescribe treatnt. Therefore, to further understand the child's condition, Du Heng wanted to observe not only her static state but also her dynamic responses. He turned to the female doctor and said, "Pluck a strand of hair for ."
Pluck... hair? The female doctor was a bit dumbfounded; she didn't understand why he wanted hair for an examination.
But while she was still taken aback, i Dong reached beside her ear and plucked a loose strand of her hair.
"AH!" The female doctor cried out, clutching her head and glaring at i Dong, thoroughly annoyed.
However, i Dong ignored her and handed the strand of hair to Du Heng.
Du Heng murmured a 'thank you'—it wasn't clear to whom he was grateful—then took the hair and used it to tickle the child's nostrils. The irritation made the child sneeze. As she sneezed, the child's eyes flickered open for a mont, her gaze sharp as she scanned her surroundings.
"President Du, what's the situation? Is there any way to treat her?" i Dong asked softly as Du Heng handed the strand of hair to the nurse.
Du Heng turned to face i Dong and the two doctors. "The child's eyes still have spirit, and her instep yang pulse is beating steadily, albeit slowly. Although her condition is grave, it's not necessarily fatal."
At these words, smiles appeared on the faces of both i Dong and the female doctor. This was especially true for the female doctor; although she didn't know who Du Heng was, having heard her own Director refer to him as 'President Du' so reverently, she sensed that the physician before her was no ordinary man.
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