Chapter 362 They all screamed: Chinese Kung Fu

After lunch, He Yun was about to leave. I said, "Go buy me a bottle of medical alcohol."

Mr. Zheng and I started communicating.

I stared into Mr. Zheng's eyes and asked word by word, "Why didn't you translate what Cruz said in that rant?"

Mr. Zheng sighed deeply, and then said:

"It means two things. One is that he wants me to save him. The other is that Crook wants to kill him."

"His subconscious is the doctor Crook hired. In name, he's treating him, but in reality, he's using the doctor to harm him?"

"Yes, the only person he trusts now is me. He doesn't even trust his wife. As a large family business, it's common for brothers to harm each other and wives to become alienated in order to gain more property.

Cruz was worried that his other brothers would take advantage of his illness to kill him and then divide up his share of the huge fortune.

"From your observation, is his guess true?"

Mr. Zheng shook his head repeatedly, "Definitely not. The family was trying to save Cruz's life. However, people with long-term illnesses are prone to hallucinations and delusions."

I nodded and said, "Cruz is your benefactor. I need your cooperation to cure his illness."

Mr. Zheng nodded seriously.

I said, "First, you must have a heart-to-heart talk with him this afternoon. First, convince him that his brother and his family are trying to save his life. Only after you do this will he cooperate."

"And the second one?"

"Second, I need to convince him that I have kung fu skills. How can I make him believe this? Once he's more open-minded, you need to cooperate with me in a performance."

I repeated the requirements for cooperation.

He asked, "Does it hurt?"

"You can try it now. It will be a little bit numb and painful."

Mr. Zheng was a bit curious. I asked him to stand up, and instantly, I pulled his arm, dislocating his elbow. I pushed again, and it snapped back into place.

He barely reacted. I was done.

He looked at me in surprise, as if all this was not real, but it had actually happened.

"I have to surprise him. My Chinese reduction method is much more convenient, simpler, and more practical than his method of taking an X-ray, making a plaster model, fixing the arm, and hanging it on the neck, which takes several months."

Mr. Zheng said: "Not only that, they also have to get injections every day, take anti-inflammatory drugs, and are not allowed to move. There are so many rules."

"Yes. This way, I can build up his initial goodwill. I thought, I can't give him an antidote first. I should start with acupuncture. I remember you said in Shangzhou that foreigners are very appreciative of Chinese acupuncture, and some even admire it."

To be honest, I'm not an expert in acupuncture, but I know a few techniques. As for whether acupuncture is beneficial in treating illnesses, I can't guarantee it, but I can guarantee it's harmless."

Mr. Zheng understood what I meant: "Are you trying to make a feint to the east and attack in the west?"

"Yes. The main purpose of acupuncture is to make him believe that the disease can be cured by acupuncture. In fact, he must drink medicine because he doesn't like and doesn't believe in Chinese medicine. I can only say that Chinese medicine is a kind of auxiliary treatment drink, and acupuncture must be consumed in order for it to be effective."

Mr. Zheng gave a thumbs-up: "You really have a set of methods to treat the patient according to his psychological factors."

"We'll just play it by ear then."

Mr. Zheng nodded and said, "Okay, you can take a rest first."

As our conversation was almost over, He Yun brought us some alcohol.

In the afternoon, we went to Crook's house again, and Mr. Zheng relayed my thoughts to the Crook brothers.

Crook nodded repeatedly.

The real treatment began. We rested in the outer room of the ward. Only Chairman Zheng went in to persuade us.

It was extremely awkward, and I couldn't communicate with Crook and his family. Crook gestured, offering me some fruit and a drink. I nodded and took a symbolic sip.

This process was very slow and long. I simply ignored them and closed my eyes to rest.

About half an hour later, Mr. Zheng came out and said in two languages ​​that he was willing to communicate with Mr. Wan.

Crook's eyes suddenly became excited.

We went in. Crook motioned for the servants to bring two stools to the bedside.

Mr. Zheng and I sat down.

Cruz leaned against a pillow, half sitting, half lying. His breathing was weak, and Mr. Zheng translated each sentence for me: "Which medical school did you graduate from?"

"There's a school with thousands of years of history called the Taoist Medical School. I can use acupuncture to make your illness heal day by day, and you can see it getting better."

Cruz's eyes rolled around after hearing this. He couldn't understand what Taoist medicine was. His eyes were full of questions.

I said, “For example, if Mr. Zheng dislocated his elbow, if he went to your hospital, he would have to take X-rays, fix it, put his arm in a sling, get injections, and take anti-inflammatory drugs. It would take some time to heal, but Taoist medicine does not require that.

Taoist medicine can restore the condition in just a few seconds. I can demonstrate it to you live."

After Mr. Zheng's translation, Cruz tried to open his eyes wide. I knew he couldn't believe it. Crook and the others standing in the back began to discuss it quietly.

I stood up and Mr. Zheng stood up too. It was too late. I pulled hard and his elbow was dislocated. In order to achieve an artistic effect, I pushed Mr. Zheng's lower arm.

Cruz's eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets, while Crook and others covered their mouths with their hands.

Because they all saw an astonishing scene: the half of the lower limb seemed to be hanging on the upper arm, completely detached, connected only by a rubber band, and swinging from side to side like a pendant on a wall clock.

A maid who came in to deliver something screamed when she saw this scene.

The atmosphere in the room grew more tense.

I straightened Mr. Zheng's arm, barely allowing them to see clearly, and with a shake and a push, his joint closed seamlessly.

I said, "Move the stool."

Mr. Zheng used the hand that had just been dislocated to pick up the stool with one hand.

"Ah——" This sound rang out simultaneously in front of and behind me.

The screams of fear among humans are all the same, there is no need for translation.

Cruz was very excited and spoke at length. Mr. Zheng smiled at me and said, "He said he felt it was incredible and magical, and he agreed to let you give him acupuncture."

I pulled out my tool kit. While I had disposable needles, I'd brought some alcohol this time. I felt that Chinese acupuncture required this technique—ignition, burning—to calm the patient.

I stood in front of the bed, clasped my hands together, and muttered something.

Then, I poured some alcohol into the iron box and lit it with a lighter. The blue flame shot up high. I twisted the long needle and kept spinning it on the flame. Suddenly, with lightning speed, I stabbed the needle into the Baihuixue point on the top of his head.

This almost perfect performance made Crook and others say the only four Chinese characters they knew: "Chinese Kung Fu".

Thanks to Jackie Chan’s fancy performance of punching the tiger of the South China Sea and kicking the dragon of the North Sea, these four words are probably the most impressive thing for the countries in Central and South Asia.

Chinese Kung Fu, yes. I want to let them know what real Chinese Kung Fu is.

I let out a long laugh.

This laughter is extremely confident and enough to make people tremble.

I want to make Cruz, a non-believer in Taoism, my loyal fan.

Although the road ahead is still long, I must first look up to the sky and laugh out loud, expressing the confidence, pride and glory of Chinese Taoist medicine.