When Xu Mo and his sister left the Dou family, the goose feathers shrank from large to small, becoming almost imperceptible.
"The snow should have stopped by now," he said, holding his sister's hand with a sigh.
"Why, brother?" Jiang Sheng, who had never observed the weather before, asked in confusion.
Xu Mo smiled, his eyes filled with hope and vitality, "Because the sun has appeared."
All storms will eventually end in sunshine, just as all scheming will ultimately be no match for justice and fairness!
The two, one big and one small, walked steadily, and behind them, golden light rose.
In a neighboring town also affected by the heavy snow, a disheveled boy jumped up, laughed loudly, and shouted, "The snow has stopped! The snow has finally stopped! In two more days, the snow will melt so I can go home. Sheep, sheep, you have to hold on! If you die, your sister will be heartbroken."
Sunlight streamed into the Imperial Hospital, and the thin young man who had spent two sleepless nights searching through ancient books stood up and exclaimed in surprise, "Found it! Found it!"
Wu Ziyou, who was dozing off next to him and whose family had gone to the Wen family's medical clinic with three generations of relatives, was half asleep. He muttered, "What? I told you not to bother looking. In this world, only acupuncture can change the pulse."
Wen Zhiyun also knew that acupuncture could change the pulse, as he had already witnessed it with the old physician Wu.
But what they want to change is the imperial lineage. Who can stand up and say, "Your Majesty, let me give you an acupuncture treatment?"
Direct acupuncture was impossible, but Wen Zhiyun did not want to risk a misdiagnosis. If the imperial family really pursued the matter, wouldn't that mean half of the imperial physicians in the Imperial Hospital would be killed?
If anyone were to fear death and expose the Fifth Prince behind this, things would likely turn out badly.
Before coming, Wen Zhiyun asked his elder brother about the situation. He knew that Consort Ju was eyeing all the princes covetously. As the only legitimate son, the fifth prince attracted attention. Even if he deliberately hid, there were still people who would cause trouble.
He also knew that there was another prince among them who was pretending to be weak but actually strong, and that he was working with the Fang family to show his fangs at any time, and it was unknown who he would stab.
As the fourth eldest brother, it was only natural for him to protect his younger siblings.
At any time.
“Needling also stimulates acupoints to change the pulse, mainly on the Jiquan and Yuanye acupoints. If we can use massage to gently squeeze these two acupoints without making a sound…” Wen Zhiyun pointed to an ancient book, which clearly stated that “a sharp pain in the fingertips can also achieve stimulation.”
Wu Ziyou was slightly taken aback, not expecting this seemingly frail young doctor to be so persistent. "But how do you give the Emperor a massage?"
Looking back at the medical systems of all dynasties, Tuina massage originated in the pre-Qin period, flourished in the Sui and Tang dynasties, and was interrupted for a time due to foreign invasions. Today, it is not exactly forgotten, but it is rarely used.
Wen Zhiyun initially started out as a massage therapist to gather information for her brothers, and now she has gained some experience in the field.
"How come giving the Emperor a massage is causing Fifth Prince... His Highness so much worry?" He quickly corrected himself, "I'll practice diligently these next few days."
Massage techniques emphasize the application of force; even seemingly weak and boneless fingers can suddenly exert force enough to crush dried walnuts transported from northern Xinjiang.
For some time to come, the Imperial Medical Academy will likely have plenty of walnuts to eat.
Wu Ziyou had no choice but to carry his personal medicine kit and try to get the message to the Third Hospital of the West.
Getting the imperial family to accept massage can be considered both difficult and easy.
The difficulty lies in Wen Zhiyun's young age. The entire Imperial Medical Academy is full of old men with white beards, or at the very least, middle-aged men like Wu Ziyou's father.
The marks left by time are the best medicine in the eyes of patients.
This includes a wealth of experience and accumulated knowledge, as well as prejudices inherited from ancient times.
Simply put, it was because the emperor was diligent in governing and loved the people, often sitting on his desk all night, which often caused him to suffer from shoulder and neck pain. The palace maids in the Qianqing Palace would massage his shoulders from time to time to relax them.
Chang Yan didn't even need to make any extra calculations; he simply let slip that he would call the young apprentice to massage him when he had back pain. Steward Wu's eyes lit up. "If it can relieve back pain, can it also relieve neck and shoulder pain?"
"Perhaps it is," Chang Yan stammered, "but I'm not sure."
Anyway, I work in the Imperial Hospital, so if I want to know the answer, I can just call him over.
Without hesitation, Steward Wu summoned Wen Zhiyun that very day. He already knew that Wen was a young "medicine apprentice," but he was still somewhat shocked when he saw him. "Is this little boy about twelve or thirteen years old?"
Such a young child, at most, can only pick out medicines, what could they possibly understand?
If the massage fails and leaves any damage, even eight heads wouldn't be enough to chop off his hands.
Seeing Steward Wu hesitate, Wen Zhiyun stepped forward, clenching his fists. "Greetings, Steward. I am fourteen years old this year. I have inherited the massage skills from my family. Even if it doesn't relieve the pain, it won't do any harm."
"You think there's no harm and then there's no harm? What if something goes wrong? We still need to keep our heads." Steward Wu waved his hand, deciding to play it safe and use acupuncture.
"Steward," Wen Zhiyun still wanted to persuade him, "how about I massage your shoulders and neck first, and then we can make a decision?"
Chief Steward Wu was taken aback. As a close attendant of the emperor, he had to stand for as long as the emperor sat. It was impossible for him not to have backaches. However, while the emperor could ask palace maids to massage his shoulders, he could only ask his godson for help.
What kind of relaxation could a clumsy little eunuch possibly create?
Speaking of which, his neck and shoulder pain was even worse than that of the emperor.
“Your Excellency’s arms seem stiff and awkward when you move, which shows that there is blood stasis in your flesh and stiffness in your muscles and bones. You need to loosen them up to feel comfortable.” Wen Zhiyun’s eyes were sincere.
Manager Wu was finally tempted, "Then you shall give it a try."
He tested the emperor's food for poison and tasted the emperor's medicines first. As the chief eunuch, his main job was to be the one to pave the way first.
Next, a pig-like scream came from the side hall, accompanied by Steward Wu's cries for help, "Help! Someone's attacking us! Save our family..."
But once the sour feeling disappeared, he felt light and refreshed, an indescribable pleasure.
“Where there is free flow, there is no pain; where there is pain, there is no free flow. Your Excellency, you desperately need a massage to relax.” Wen Zhiyun said obediently from the side.
Steward Wu waved away the guards with swords, finally revealing a smile, "You've got some skills, come again."
As the sounds of pigs being slaughtered came one after another, the feeling shifted from heart-wrenching to comforting and relieved, from interest to acceptance.
In the end, Steward Wu still recommended Wen Zhiyun to the Emperor.
Whether out of trust or because they were truly too busy to pay attention, the imperial family allowed him to take charge so easily.
At first, Wen Zhiyun didn't dare to do anything wrong, and used all her skills to massage and manipulate the area. Only on the eve of her routine pulse check did she dare to try pressing the key acupoints.
This change in pulse lasts for at most two or three days, but that's enough.
As the ruler of the country, the emperor would have his pulse checked twice a month, with the two most respected senior physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy taking turns to perform the checks.
I thought I'd heard the same thing over and over again this year, but to my surprise, after repeated examinations, Physician Zhao, who was in charge of taking my pulse, suddenly collapsed to his knees.
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