Doctor Jiang didn't say much. He just said a few words to Mu Huaixi and then went out with a rag.

Mu Huaixi had originally thought Dr. Jiang was a stubborn, middle-aged doctor, but he looked only a few years older than her. With dark skin and a tall build, he looked more like a soldier than a doctor. His eyebrows were thick, and his white coat gave him an air of intimidation. It was no wonder that outsiders subconsciously assumed he had a bad temper.

The medicine cabinet that Mu Huaixi needed had to be made by a carpenter. The medicinal materials she brought back from Jiangcheng could only be temporarily stored in the warehouse. Now, everything she needed was placed in the small medicine box given by Zhang Xiaohang.

She thought about it, put the wooden box away, picked up the rag and went out.

"Doctor Mu, wait a minute. Doctor Jiang has gone to fetch water." Li Fengjuan saw her holding a rag and told her about the sanitation duty at the clinic. "Everyone is responsible for their own sanitation inside the house. The four of us will take turns to clean the main house. Outside the house, Sister Guo will take turns each day. We have electricity but no water here, so we have to fetch water from the mountainside. Doctor Jiang does more work, so whoever is free can fill in."

Mu Huaixi nodded and confirmed that she was cleaning the yard on Friday. Then she saw a man on a bicycle rushing into the yard and heading straight for the big tree, almost hitting her car.

"Who is it? You parked your bike like that, afraid I won't be able to bump into it?" she muttered, pulling off her woolen hat to reveal her messy curls. Turning around, she saw Li Fengjuan running towards her with a broom, skipping and jumping. "Hello Fengjuan, you're sweeping the floor for me again! I'll treat you to some candy!"

"Who are you?" She was startled when she saw Mu Huaixi holding a rag, and turned to ask Li Fengjuan, "Has the health center assigned people again?"

Li Fengjuan pulled her skirt and said, "Wang Xiaohua, you don't know that you are on leave. This is the new doctor Mu."

"Doctor Mu?" Wang Xiaohua looked at her in surprise. "You look about my age. Did you graduate from a medical college or something? How did you get assigned here? It's really..."

Before she could finish her words, Li Fengjuan pulled her back and quickly added, "Doctor Mu is a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner, a skill inherited from my ancestors."

"Oh, a Chinese medicine doctor," Wang Xiaohua's curiosity suddenly died down. "Why is there a Chinese medicine doctor here? I don't like making medicine."

Wang Xiaohua's name wasn't well-known, but she looked much more fashionable than Li Fengjuan. She had a perm, rode a bike, and wore a new cotton-padded jacket. Her family must have been well-off, yet somehow she'd been assigned to such a remote village. As for her attitude toward Traditional Chinese Medicine, Mu Huaixi chose to ignore it. She hung the rag on a tree branch and headed back to the warehouse.

Wang Xiaohua rolled her eyes behind her and said to Li Fengjuan in a bad mood, "Why is she like this? Didn't I just say I don't like making medicine? My grandfather died from taking Chinese medicine. I don't believe in Chinese medicine!"

"You, you, you just can't control your mouth," Li Fengjuan pinched Wang Xiaohua's cheek. "You have to do it even if you don't like making medicine. This is work!"

Although Mu Huaixi had already walked far away, she could still hear clearly after her five senses were enhanced. She had seen many people like Wang Xiaohua. Instead of wasting time persuading them, it would be better to improve her medical skills and let the facts speak for themselves. Just like Li Fengjuan said, this is a job, not a debate.

The clinic had just opened, so there weren't many patients, mostly those with acute illnesses. Mountain dwellers who caught a cold or cough would typically drink a bowl of hot soup and burrow into bed to sweat it out. Except for the elderly and children with fever and confusion, no one would rush to the hospital.

Two patients came in the morning, one was a child with a fever and the other was a patient with a broken leg. Both came to see Dr. Jiang.

Mu Huaixi was listening to the anxious or painful cries from next door behind the curtain, reading a medical book intently. Her fingers lightly touched the yellowed pages and the slightly faded ink annotations, and she always felt that something was sprouting at her fingertips.

"Doctor Mu, I have a pen here. Would you like to use it first?"

Mu Huaixi was interrupted and could no longer feel that mysterious state. He could only open his eyes regretfully. Wang Xiaohua was standing in front of the table holding a pen and said with a pout, "Who still uses a brush these days?"

Li Fengjuan, who was standing by, quickly added, "The paper at the clinic absorbs ink too much. Xiaohua is worried that it will be difficult for you to prescribe."

"It's okay, thank you," Mu Huaixi looked at Wang Xiaohua. Although she expressed impatience, the child, who had just had a fever, vomited all over her, but she didn't complain. Instead, she took care of the patient and his family. After the child fell asleep, she took out oranges and peanuts and roasted them on the stove, saving the air in the room, and generously shared them with everyone.

Wang Xiaohua was obviously a warm-hearted person, but she always loved to talk. Seeing that she didn't appreciate it, she turned around and put the pen back in her pocket. "Fine, you may not get the chance to prescribe a prescription anyway."

Mu Huaixi shook her head helplessly and looked at the pen, ink, paper and inkstone on the table. These were also left by her grandfather. Using them was not for her to be unconventional or to show off her identity as a Chinese medicine practitioner, but she forgot that there were no convenient gel pens at present, and any business involving written work had to bring her own pen.

At that time in Jiangcheng Department Store, Ying Mingcheng wanted to buy her a Hero pen, but she refused without a second thought. She never expected that one day she would end up in the hospital.

"I can only ask someone to bring me one," Mu Huaixi sighed. It wasn't that she was being hypocritical and refusing to accept Wang Xiaohua's kindness, but the pen was obviously new, and she couldn't take advantage of it. Buying a fountain pen costs money, and so does furniture for a new house. Mu Huaixi then thought of the passbook and cash Captain Wei had given her. There was actually over 6,000 yuan in it!

Ying Mingcheng had been working for seven years and had made many contributions, big and small. His current salary was indeed not low, but Mu Huaixi had never expected that he could save so much! She felt the passbook was hot in her hand, and she felt the weight of this trust.

Fortunately, Mu Huaixi now works in a health center with a monthly salary of 25 yuan. However, because she is a temporary employee, she also gets a share of the profits from ointment prescriptions, acupuncture, and other operations. For example, if she sells a plaster, she can share the profits with the health center in a 40% to 60% ratio. After all, she uses her own secret recipe, and it would be difficult for the government to take advantage of her.

Mu Huaixi knew that these were all obtained for her by Captain Wei. Nowadays, the registration fee at the health center is only one cent, and there are strict prices for medicines, fracture treatments, and surgeries. Doctors cannot get a share of the profits. Doctor Jiang doesn't mind because she has a military medical position, but she doesn't mind the money!

When she was shopping for wholesale medicinal herbs in Jiangcheng, she was both amazed and saddened by her limited finances. A pound of red ginseng cost hundreds of yuan, while ginseng, cordyceps, and donkey-hide gelatin were priceless. People say Chinese medicine practitioners have their secret treasures. Her grandfather had a 50-year-old ginseng root in his medicine cabinet, a treasured treasure. When he was seriously ill and bedridden, she heartily cut out a large piece for medicinal use, earning him a rebuke for squandering it.

Now, only the ginseng head tied with a red rope is left of the old ginseng. Mu Huaixi specially found a box to weigh it, intending to pass it down as a family heirloom along with the medical book.