Yang Baiyi came to the cabinet on the back wall and pretended to rummage out two plasters.

I lit the alcohol stove, roasted the plaster over the fire, and then applied it to the old man's two knee joints.

"Third brother, how do you feel?"

The old man who was just queuing up to have his blood pressure measured asked.

"It feels warm, and the pain in the bolenggai doesn't seem to be that severe anymore."

Chen Dong moved his knees and felt much more agile.

"Old man, don't take a bath for the next three days. Don't let the plaster get wet. I guarantee you'll be back to normal. The medicine will cure you."

Yang Baiyi instructed.

"I knew it, I knew Doctor Yang had a way. Doctor Yang is truly a miracle doctor!"

Yesterday’s Xiaobao, today’s Chen Dong, and Yang Baiyi have cured patients who were beyond the reach of two health centers.

"Doctor Yang, how much is it?"

Chen Baiwang took out a stack of banknotes from his pocket, wrapped in a big unity banknote.

He believed that such a magical ointment must be the secret recipe of Yang Baiyi's family, and the medicinal ingredients must be very precious.

"Captain, plasters also have costs. Please take ten yuan for two sets of plasters."

Yang Baiyi quoted a price that was neither high nor low.

"Doctor Yang, you can't take care of me just because I'm the team leader! Is ten dollars enough for the cost?"

Since ancient times, medical treatment and medicine have not been cheap, especially for those with difficult and complicated diseases. Many people would even sell their houses and land to get treatment.

"I won't lose money. I know that."

In this era when rheumatism cannot be cured, his plaster can be said to be a priceless treasure, but for Yang Baiyi it is a business with no capital.