Today is the day we originally planned to collect herbs.
"That patient's condition is complicated, and I can't explain it all in a moment." The old doctor sighed. "He has a strange temper, and his facial skin is so badly ulcerated, yet he refuses to let me treat him. I have no other choice but to entrust this patient to you. Please examine him carefully. If he isn't treated promptly, the wound on his face will continue to ulcerate, and I'm afraid it will damage his bones."
Since he said so, Fang Qingyue had no choice but to agree.
After a while, the patient arrived.
The patient was tall, but his skin was covered with deep and shallow grooves.
His face was covered with pits and wounds, as if it had been doused with some kind of putrid acid.
The wound healing effect was not ideal. The scars were mixed with the unhealed wounds, and pus and blood were flowing out of the wounds.
It looks chilling.
Fang Qingyue didn't care about this at all, and just said calmly: "Please stretch out your hand so I can take your pulse."
The other person nodded, sat down at the table, and leaned his hand lightly on the armrest.
Fang Qingyue placed her hand on the other person's wrist.
In just a moment, her brows furrowed deeply.
This person's pulse is chaotic, and his body seems to be poisoned, but he can't tell what the poison is.
With such a chaotic pulse, if it were someone else, I don’t know how many times they would have died.
It's really strange that this person is still alive and well.
Fang Qingyue first wrote down some of her diagnosis on a piece of paper, then looked up and asked, "Can you tell me about your condition?"
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