401: Chapter 401: The First Round of dical Skills Exchange 401: Chapter 401: The First Round of dical Skills Exchange Although Qian Haoduo was a honorary Elder of the Doctor Pavilion, he wasn’t optimistic about the three disciples of the Doctor Pavilion participating in the dical competition.
With his own wallet in mind, he decisively abandoned his support for the Doctor Pavilion and placed his bets on the Ghost Doctor Sect instead.
“I’m not joking!”
Fang Bai reached out, took the pen and paper from Qian Haoduo’s hand, and signed his na with flourish.
Then he wrote down the Ancient dicine Sect he wanted to bet on, along with the amount and the odds, finally pressing his red thumbprint onto the paper.
At this ti, on the list of gambling participants Qian Haoduo was holding, there were already dozens of guests who placed their bets, including Hua Tianhe, one of the four National Doctors, who also prominently placed a bet of one million.
Of course, Hua Tianhe bet on the Rejuvenation Hall winning the championship, and one million was rely a modest gamble for him; winning money was good, but losing wouldn’t hurt him either.
The dozens of guests who participated in the bet, although they just signed and didn’t go through any notarization, no one worried that there would be an issue with paying up after the dical skill competition ended.
Martial Artists value their word and reputation more than their lives.
If any guest broke their promise, refusing to pay after losing the bet, they would be pointed at by thousands and carry a lifeti of infamy.
Not to ntion in the Ancient Martial World, they would even struggle to get by in ordinary society thereafter.
Furthermore, the guests willing to gamble were all wealthy individuals.
To them, a few hundred million was but a small sum; they could afford the loss.
At the “World Traditional Chinese dicine Conference” of past years, there have been many guests who gambled tens of millions, but like Fang Bai, betting over a billion on his first gamble was truly unparalleled.
Qian Haoduo, montarily stunned by Fang Bai’s bold move, was then filled with indescribable joy.
In Qian Haoduo’s eyes, even though Wang Miaomiao had recently received personal guidance from Fang Bai, not even the most skilled Master could train a dical expert in such a short ti.
Therefore, unless a miracle occurred, the disciples from the Doctor Pavilion had almost zero chances of taking first place.
Moreover, Wang Miaomiao was a disciple of very diocre talent, making her even harder to train.
Qian Haoduo didn’t believe that Fang Bai had the miraculous ability to turn decay into marvel.
Qian Haoduo silently did the math in his heart—once the Doctor Pavilion did not co first in the dical competition, at least one-third of the billion promised by Fang Bai would end up in his own pocket.
“You earn twenty million, I earn even more from you!
Heh heh… I’m going to make a tidy profit this ti!”
In an instant, Qian Haoduo’s gaze towards Fang Bai beca greedy and fervent, as if he saw Fang Bai as a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
Soon, the high-spirited and joyous Qian Haoduo walked away from Fang Bai and continued to encourage other guests to join in the betting.
A few minutes later, fifteen patients wearing hospital gowns gradually appeared on the main stage in the front.
The fifteen patients, both male and female, all in their twenties, were from various major hospitals in Yanjing, suffering from the common cold—headaches, fevers, runny noses, coughs…
Their symptoms were generally the sa.
After the fifteen patients took their seats on the specially arranged chairs on the stage, the ten judges responsible for evaluation ca forward to asure their temperatures and check their symptoms to prevent any cheating.
After the judges finished checking, the fifteen disciples from the five major Ancient dicine Sects would go to the patient they were assigned to treat according to their number and stand ready, waiting for the host to announce the start of the competition.
The first round of the dical skill competition was for the fifteen disciples of the Ancient dicine Sects to use traditional Chinese dical treatnts to cure the fifteen patients with colds.
Whoever could cure their patient in the shortest ti would advance to the next round.
The three who took the longest would be eliminated due to their lesser skill.
Ordinary physicians treating colds couldn’t see a result in less than three to five days, but the fifteen disciples standing on the stage were all well-versed in both martial and dical arts, and their inherited dical expertise from the true Huaxia tradition was many tis more advanced than that of ordinary physicians.
The disciples of the Ancient dicine Sect usually kept a low profile and did not boast, but at this mont, for the benefit of their sects, no one would hold back.
It was ti to see whose dical skill was superior.
“The first round of the dical skills competition has officially begun.”
Wen Yu’s gaze swept over the three disciples from the “Doctor Pavilion” before he announced the start of the dical skills competition with a grave and solemn tone.
Upon hearing this, the fifteen disciples from the five major Ancient dicine Sects acted one after another.
After a round of looking, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking, so began taking out their acupuncture kits, disinfecting the needles, and then swiftly inserting them into several acupoints on the patient’s body.
Others rubbed their hands together until they were warm, then started to massage and knead the patient.
There were also those who took out elixirs they carried with them, allowing patients to swallow them…
The fifteen disciples from the Ancient dicine Sects, like the Eight Immortals crossing the sea, each displayed their powers, using various thods to treat their patients.
Among the thousands of guests below the stage, so were not from the dical community and had been invited to the “World Traditional Chinese dicine Conference” for the first ti.
They were amazed to see the bizarre and exotic ans of treatnt demonstrated by the fifteen disciples from the Ancient dicine Sects, realizing that even a common cold could be treated in such ways.
Nangong Ming, the man in black representing the “Ghost Doctor Sect,” was the last to make his move.
He walked unhurriedly toward the frail young man in front of him, scanned the man for a mont, and then with a swift motion of his right hand, he grasped the frail young man’s wrist to feel his pulse; after a brief mont, he let go.
When Nangong Ming grabbed his wrist, the frail young man felt a cold breath seep through his wrist and travel through his body’s ridians before it finally dissipated.
As the cold energy road his insides, the frail young man felt as if he was plunged into an icy pit, his body trembling slightly and overwheld with a feeling of despair and suffering worse than death.
After examining the frail young man’s pulse, Nangong Ming had a clear understanding of his condition and didn’t ask any further questions.
He stretched out his palms and lightly patted the front, back, and head of the patient several tis.
Then, he slightly raised his hand to signal to the ten judges that his treatnt was complete.
Usually, when a contestant indicates that the treatnt is over, it ans they have cured the patient’s illness.
“You’re kidding, he’s done just like that?”
“It’s been less than three minutes!”
“This person is extraordinary!”
“I wonder from where Sect Master Sikong has invited such a master!”
“Co on, let’s go up and see if the patient’s really cured!”
…
The ten judges, with a mix of emotions, approached the frail young man on the stage.
So felt his pulse, so asured his temperature, and so asked how he was feeling—all to determine whether his cold had indeed been cured.
“…It’s truly miraculous!
This doctor patted a few tis, and I sweated profusely; then, I felt much more relieved.
The headache, cough, and various other symptoms have all disappeared…
Brother, you truly are a Divine Doctor!”
The frail young man stood up, his spirit revived as he walked back and forth on the stage, looking nothing like his listless self from before.
He gave Nangong Ming a thumbs up in admiration.
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