Chapter 907: This is how doctors are [Seeking monthly votes]
Shen Tang had never heard a more explosive answer than this.
"Five years? Is it like this every day?"
Having learned from the mistakes of Lin Feng and Bei Qiu, Shen Tang also figured out the pattern. It seems that Elder Dong accidentally opened the Temple of Medicine.
She just hadn't expected the Temple of Healers to be so strict.
Five years! I took the exam for five whole years!
The same boring dream repeated more than 1,800 times!
Even if Mr. Dong is very magnanimous, he should have realized something was wrong.
For a moment, Shen Tang didn't know whether to say that Old Dong was tight-lipped or that he was socially closed off, as he hadn't revealed anything for so many years.
“It’s not like this every day,” Dr. Dong explained. “Every ten days, I have a different dream one day.”
He felt that such useless dreams were a waste of time.
Problems he couldn't figure out during the day could be pondered in his dreams, and the lessons he learned were remembered exceptionally well. Reality was different. His body was old and frail; his eyesight was failing, his hearing was impaired, his energy and stamina were not as abundant as in his prime, his memory was declining, and his thinking couldn't match that of the young people at the clinic. He felt deeply powerless in this state; birth, aging, sickness, and death were inevitable for everyone.
In contrast, he lingered more in his dream state.
In his dreams, his soul can temporarily detach from this aging and decaying body and gain freedom.
Shen Tang: "...Ten days and you're still giving me one day off?"
She almost didn't know where to begin her rant.
"Hehe, the Temple of Healers is quite nice..."
Although Dr. Dong was an ordinary person, most of his patients at his clinic were soldiers, so he had a lot of contact with martial arts masters. Upon hearing the words "Holy Temple of Healers," his intuition told him that his inexplicable return to his prime was probably related to this.
He'd heard that literary or martial energy could keep one forever young, only gradually showing signs of aging when one's inner energy dwindled. None of the scholars or martial artists he'd ever met were truly old; they were all either young or middle-aged. Could it be that he, too, was—
Dr. Dong looked down at his right hand.
Tense, delicate, flawless, and elastic, its vibrant life force spread throughout his body with each throbbing pulse, as if the previous laxity and dullness were merely an illusion. This hand was more steady and powerful than he remembered in his prime, no longer trembling uncontrollably or experiencing sudden numbness. He was confident that, without relying on his eyes or nose, this hand could accurately identify the names and weights of various medicinal herbs.
He harbored a sense of unease.
"Does Lord Shen mean that I am now also a scholar?"
Shen Tang shook his head, denying his guess: "No."
Dr. Dong's mood sombered slightly: "What is that?"
"Rather than a scholar, he's more like a physician. Of course, not the same kind of physician. I personally think that with most of his life as a physician, Dr. Dong could easily be a chief physician," Shen Tang joked. Seeing that Dr. Dong seemed to understand but not quite, he tried to explain in a way that Dr. Dong could comprehend. "A scholar with a literary mind belongs to the literary category, a warrior with a martial spirit belongs to the martial category, and your situation falls under the category of physician, which is independent of the literary and martial categories. You can simply think of a physician as a scholar-warrior, the latter active on the battlefield and in the court, the former based in the medical field."
After hearing what Shen Tang said, Dr. Dong understood a little.
"Old Master Dong was frequently tested in his dreams. I guess it was a test from the spirits of the sages of the Medical Temple. You passed the test in the end, and the gates of the Medical Temple opened for you." Shen Tang couldn't help but complain, "It was just a bit too harsh."
Dr. Dong never dreamed this was possible.
He didn't know what the Temple of Medicine was, but judging from the name, he knew that this place must be the highest holy place for those who study medicine.
The grandson, standing to the side, listened in stunned silence.
Young people, who doesn't envy the scholar with a refined mind and the warrior with courage? Their own grandfather has become a healer on par with them?
He couldn't help but mutter, "Why don't I have it?"
The boy lacked the innate talent for cultivation; he could neither become a scholar with a refined mind nor a martial artist with courage and skill. It was impossible for him not to envy others. His grandfather taught him not to be overly ambitious, but to learn his skills diligently and acquire a specialty.
Even if their medical skills become mediocre in the end, they won't starve.
The boy's heart stirred again, and his eyes shone brightly.
Dr. Dong also thought of this.
The mind of a young body is indeed sharp. The moment this thought arose in his mind, the memories that had been quietly huddled in the corner instantly swiped through his mind, and he found the answer in the blink of an eye: "Because it's not enough."
Shen Tang was also curious: "What's not enough?"
His grandson also eagerly tugged at his sleeve.
"Is it because my medical skills are not good enough?"
Dr. Dong sighed, "How many people have you cured?"
He recalled the scene of his first dream.
Over the years, he has rarely dreamed of his apprenticeship.
But that day I had a rare dream. In the dream, I was following the old lady next door, carrying a string of cured meat and a few dried fish that my parents had prepared. The old lady had a problem with her legs, which ached slightly on windy and rainy days, so she walked very slowly.
She nagged in his ear, "Son, once you're at his doorstep, remember to be sweet-talking and greet people loudly. Do whatever chores you see, don't be lazy. Treat him like your own father, and he'll teach you real skills. Your sister inquired around; his son died a few years ago, and no one's learning his skills. You must be quick-witted! Understand?"
The young Dr. Dong nodded emphatically.
The "elder sister" the old lady was referring to was her daughter.
She married into a family in the town.
Six months ago, an old doctor moved in next door to my husband's family.
As the two families interacted more, the neighbors learned that the old doctor came from the imperial medical academy, was wealthy and highly skilled, but had an eccentric personality. While serving in the palace, his two grandchildren caught a cold, but a cheap, incompetent doctor hired by his son prescribed the wrong medicine and they died. Not long after, he lost his wife and then his son…
The old doctor rarely saw patients.
In moments of loneliness, he lamented the lack of descendants to carry on his legacy.
When my older sister heard about this, she recommended Dr. Dong.
So he brought his tuition fee to their door.
The old doctor did indeed have an eccentric personality and was difficult to please.
For several years, Dr. Dong served him with utmost respect, even going so far as to break a basin to bury him in his old age. Only then did the other party relent, teaching him and taking him around to see patients, some for free and some for a fee, always making him watch closely from the sidelines.
When he had almost finished learning, the old doctor was also nearing the end of his life. He spent the last six months in bed, very weak, and everything he learned was dictated from his bedside. Dr. Dong remained respectful and filial throughout, personally taking care of everything, from wiping his back and dressing him to feeding him.
One day, the old doctor suddenly became very energetic.
She could sit up on her own without any help, and waved to her apprentice who had brought in water, a rare smile appearing on her face.
【Dao'er, come here.】
Why is Master up?
Dr. Dong placed the basin of water aside.
The old doctor held out his hand to him: [To take his pulse.]
Dr. Dong was bewildered and puzzled, but still did as instructed.
Old doctor: [Remember this pulse pattern.]
Dr. Dong sensed something was wrong and his heart sank.
He knelt down with a thud in front of the old doctor's bedside.
The old doctor gripped his shoulders tightly, a grip unusual for someone with a blocked meridian, and said sternly, "Have you remembered?"
[I've got it!]
Remember this well!
After saying these words, the old doctor seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon, his strength plummeting. His face was full of exhaustion. He instructed Dr. Dong to fetch the burial clothes he had prepared long ago, put them on, and lay back down, calmly accepting his impending death.
Half an hour later, he stopped breathing.
He handled the old doctor's funeral arrangements and returned home after completing his apprenticeship. Because of his impoverished background and lack of any impressive family connections, even the old doctor said he wasn't particularly talented; his rudimentary skills wouldn't even qualify him as an apprentice in the imperial court. No wealthy people sought his treatment; only commoners came to him. Initially, he had no reputation and had to find patients himself, later traveling from place to place to make a living.
Years later, he had to admit that his master's judgment was correct; his talent was indeed limited. His only advantage was that he lived a long life, saw a lot, and had rich experience, having encountered all sorts of difficult and complicated diseases. His experience made up for those shortcomings.
As he got older, his medical skills became more refined.
Having witnessed the full spectrum of human nature, he suddenly understood why his master's personality was so eccentric and unapproachable. It was because they studied medicine, not the miraculous arts of bringing the dead back to life. Even the most exquisite medical skills have limited effects, and the world is full of patients suffering from illness but lacking the means to pay for their treatment. He himself, though capable of healing, also needed to make a living. However, his choice differed from his teacher's.
He often waived medical fees for the poor and common people, and occasionally applied medicine.
He looked at his thin, frail grandson, sighed with guilt, and stroked the young, innocent boy: "Don't be like your grandfather when you grow up."
I've done right by myself, but I've let my family down.
The child could have had a better life, or at least had more decent meals and a stable place to live.
Life continued to be filled with poverty and hardship.
One day, Dr. Dong was traveling with his grandson.
The grandfather and grandson sat down to rest under a tree by the roadside.
As he wiped his sweat, a frail, stern-looking old man approached from the road, carrying a medicine chest on his back. The old doctor felt the man's face was somewhat familiar, but he couldn't quite place him. After all, thirty or forty years had passed since his youth.
The old man was also a doctor.
He asked, "Young man, how many years have you been practicing medicine?"
When Dr. Dong heard the term "young man," he was somewhat amused and exasperated. Standing side-by-side, it was hard to say who was older. He replied, "It must be about thirty-four years old."
He became an apprentice at the age of seventeen, spent five years as an apprentice, and five years learning the craft.
Thirty-four years have passed since then.
The old man smiled and said, "I possess a unique skill, but my lineage has declined for many years, with no disciples or grand-disciples. Today, I see you have the potential; would you like to inherit my mantle?"
The old doctor Dong was taken aback: [To pass on his mantle?]
He chuckled, "Old man, don't play tricks on people. I'm standing next to you, and I have to call you 'younger brother,' while you have to call me 'older brother.' Why pass on your mantle to someone so young, someone who's practically half-buried?"
It's hard to say who will be buried first.
The old man, though rejected, showed no anger. He said, "Who said you're halfway to the grave? I can read faces; judging from your appearance, you're destined for a long life. You'll make it in time."
Seeing his serious expression, Dr. Dong subconsciously recalled his master's appearance before his death, and couldn't bear to refuse a second time. He mistakenly thought the old man was like his master, but the old man seemed to see through his thoughts and immediately burst into laughter.
The old doctor asked, "What are you laughing at, sir?"
The old man said, "You will know in the future."
Dr. Dong: [...]
The old man then asked, "You've practiced medicine for thirty-four years. Do you remember how many people you've treated in your entire life?"
Dr. Dong shook his head: "How could I possibly remember?"
There were too many to remember.
The old man was quite satisfied with the answer: "This unique skill of mine cannot be learned without five years of dedicated study, five years of accompanying others in clinical practice, five years of practicing medicine independently, and treating thousands of patients."
Dr. Dong clearly meets all the criteria.
Hearing about these learning conditions, Dr. Dong's feelings became even more complicated, and he couldn't help but sarcastically remark: "With fifteen years of dedicated practice, who wouldn't become a good doctor? Those with talent could even establish their own school. Your mastery of medicine has high barriers to entry; no wonder your school is dwindling."
The old man smiled and said, "You will understand in the future."
Dr. Dong asked: "What do you understand?"
【What's wrong with bringing the dead back to life and restoring flesh to bones?】
As soon as the old man finished speaking, a strange wind arose, so strong that it was impossible for anyone to open their eyes. Doctor Dong raised his hand to shield his eyes, and when the wind stopped, the old man was nowhere to be seen. This terrifying scene jolted Doctor Dong awake from his dream, and he belatedly realized—
The old man's face—wasn't that his master?
Could it be that his time is almost up?
Dr. Dong took a sip of herbal tea and looked out at the dark night. He hadn't dreamed of the old man for many years. At his age, dreaming of someone who had long since passed away was not a good omen.
After waiting for several months, his health returned to normal.
I started having strange dreams every night.
Medical records and case studies I read during the day would appear in my dreams.
There will also be teaching materials and notes on the table.
It started with simple questions about the names, properties, effects, and pharmacology of medicinal herbs. Later, the questions focused on the prescriptions and applications related to each herb, or giving a general effect and asking the patient to list at least a certain number of similar herbs, as well as various pulse patterns, meridians, and acupoints...
These are all relatively simple.
What's even more troublesome are the records in various medical books.
These are all rare and precious items.
Dr. Dong can say with certainty that even the medical department's inventory didn't cover all these questions, let alone the various pulse diagnosis cases that followed, asking him how he diagnosed, treated, and prescribed diseases, including internal medicine, surgery, gynecology, and pediatrics...
The question also approaches the topic from different angles, such as observation, auscultation, inquiry, and palpation.
Where in traditional master-apprentice transmission of knowledge is there such a standardized system?
Dr. Dong is good at treating patients, but he's terrible at exams.
Aside from initially handling the exams with ease, he failed every time afterward, which was incredibly embarrassing for him. Each time he dreamt of finishing the exam, he would spend the day researching and reading medical books. If he didn't have the answers, he would save them; if he did, he would use the questions to stump the apprentices at the medical clinic…
He wasn't unaware that the apprentices were afraid of him.
But so what?
Isn't this how it is when you study medicine? He was even frightened by his expression. If he doesn't even know these questions, how will he save lives in the future?
The grandson turned pale upon hearing this.
Shen Tang gasped: "Five years of dedicated study, five years of accompanying others to see patients, five years of practicing medicine on your own, treating thousands of patients... It's even more demanding than I imagined... Fifteen years is the minimum?"
According to Dr. Dong, to become a physician, one must first meet these conditions, then pass the torturous exam in one's dreams, and only then can one obtain a physician's certificate and formally become qualified to practice. Future achievements depend entirely on one's own destiny.
This is just the most basic introduction!
The medical practitioner's cultivation method is to practice medicine. During the practice, when a physician reaches a bottleneck in their cultivation, they must undergo a stage assessment. Only by passing the assessment can they break through the bottleneck and continue to improve...
Even Chu Yao was exhausted from listening to it.
But Dr. Dong thought it made perfect sense.
"Killing ten people is easy, but saving one is difficult."
He recalled the night he passed the test, when the old man appeared, smiling, to congratulate him, saying, "That's how we doctors are; we're not as picky as others."
|ω`)
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Monthly tickets are doubled from the 1st to the 7th, please give me a minimum number of monthly tickets.
The story of the old Chinese medicine doctor who asked his students to feel his pulse before he died is a true example, and this kind of passing down of knowledge is truly touching.
(End of this chapter)
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