This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

But even with such a refreshing experience, Du Heng still felt a pang in his heart. He hadn’t paid much attention when he grabbed the ice cream bars earlier, handing one to Du Yi right away and then popping one into his own mouth. But when the bill came, the 42 yuan price tag for each nearly made Du Heng think he was eating gold bars. Since it was already in his mouth, there was nothing he could do. Now that he was almost done eating it, Du Heng didn’t notice anything special; it tasted just like the one-yuan popsicles. Although he could afford it, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being a sucker. His heart ached, and his liver ached too!

”Little Uncle, this is so delicious! Can I have another one?” Du Yi asked.

Hearing Du Yi’s request and seeing the longing look on his red-cheeked face, Du Heng chuckled. ”Alright, let’s go buy another one.”

Then the two of them made another trip to the small supermarket.

Back in the shady place, Du Heng felt a coolness seep through the soles of his feet. Seeing Du Yi’s satisfied expression, Du Heng felt it was worth it.

”Honey, what are you two doing here?”

The sudden voice interrupted Du Heng’s leisurely moment.

Sprawled inelegantly on the bench, Du Heng opened his eyes and removed the half-eaten ice cream bar from his mouth. ”What brings you here?”

”You said you were bringing my brother and sister-in-law to check out the house, so I came over too,” Wu Shengnan replied.

”Let’s go up then. They’re already upstairs.”

Du Heng popped the rest of the ice cream bar into his mouth, then... made another trip to the supermarket, emerging with a plastic bag.

”Here, try this. It’s a 40-yuan ice cream bar. See if there’s anything different about it.”

Wu Shengnan casually took one. ”Are you crazy? Forty yuan for an ice cream bar?”

”Don’t ask if I’m crazy. You should ask the shop owner if *he’s* crazy. Who in their right mind would buy a 40-yuan ice cream bar?”

Wu Shengnan shot him a look. ”This fool right here did. And you bought three.”

Du Heng sighed. ”I am indeed a fool. But not three, it was seven.”

This made Wu Shengnan burst out laughing. She took Du Yi’s hand and headed upstairs, saying, ”You really are a fool.”

By the time they got upstairs, Du Ping was no longer in Du Heng’s apartment. A quick call revealed he had gone to the apartment above. The house upstairs had only a coat of marsdenia plaster, but Du Ping and his wife were beaming as they looked around. They only left reluctantly when Du Heng called. When Du Heng saw Du Ping and his wife return, he knew his sister-in-law had successfully persuaded his brother, so he didn’t say much more.

Just then, Wu Shengnan walked over to her sister-in-law and took out the bank card Du Ping had given her. ”Sister-in-law, please take this money back.”

Zhang Sumei quickly refused. ”Xiao Nan, we can’t take this money back. If people found out, we’d be a laughingstock. Who ever heard of taking back betrothal gifts given to a new daughter-in-law? Besides, it’s unlucky.”

Seeing Wu Shengnan was still intent on returning it, Du Heng quickly stopped her. He knew Wu Shengnan meant well, but doing so would undoubtedly make his brother and sister-in-law lose face.

”Just keep what’s given to you. Why bother refusing it over and over again? Put it away,” Du Heng quickly interjected, pulling Wu Shengnan back. ”Come on, we have some time today. Let’s take Xiao Yi out for a bit.”

Stopped by Du Heng, Wu Shengnan, though puzzled, didn’t insist and suppressed her doubts.

It wasn’t until they had seen Du Ping and his family off that evening that Wu Shengnan couldn’t help but ask, ”Big Brother sold all the family’s sheep for the betrothal gifts. How can I accept this money?”

Du Heng hadn’t expected Wu Shengnan to dwell on this all day. He chuckled and explained the situation with the apartment and the pharmacy again. ”Big Brother is very concerned about face. If you forcibly return the betrothal gifts, he’ll inevitably overthink things. This timing is perfect. He has no money now, and the sheep are gone. He has no choice but to come to the city.”

”Then what about this money? We can’t really spend it ourselves, can we?”

”Simple. Use this money to renovate Big Brother’s apartment as well.”

”That might not be enough,” Wu Shengnan said, clearly agreeing with Du Heng’s idea.

Du Heng chuckled. ”Then we’ll just chip in a little more.”

”Alright then. But you can’t slack off; you have to help me.”

”I’m afraid you’ll have to take on the hard work again. I’m pretty tied up with things at the hospital and can’t get away.”

Wu Shengnan pouted, somewhat displeased. Du Heng had barely lifted a finger when they were decorating their own apartment, and now he wasn’t going to help with Big Brother’s apartment either. ”What could you possibly be so busy with?”

”I’m going to be on TV.”

”On TV?”

Wu Shengnan was curious about what Du Heng would be like on TV. Du Heng himself was also quite intrigued, as he had never had such an experience before. However, once he actually participated, his interest waned in less than twenty minutes. The host’s questions were utterly simplistic, just as contrived and ridiculous as an entertainment gossip reporter asking, ”So-and-so, we hear the movie you starred in is about to be released, is that true?” These are all things already confirmed online; what’s the point in asking?

What was most infuriating was that a ”Master” was also participating in the program. He had silver hair slicked back, a full white beard with every strand distinct, and wore a Tang suit, exuding an air of otherworldly wisdom. The program group claimed they had found him among the common people, a highly renowned figure in his local area, especially skilled in treating strokes. They even said he possessed a foolproof prescription.

Gradually, Du Heng realized that this panel discussion today seemed to be a setup to make him a shill for this ”old immortal.”

Did they even bother to investigate who I am? What my most significant achievements are? Is this program really that audacious? Aren’t they afraid I’ll expose them? Or are they just that confident?

”...After all that’s been said, traditional Chinese medicine might seem simple to everyone, but it’s actually not,” the ”old immortal” pontificated from his seat in the center, his demeanor perfectly calibrated. ”Traditional Chinese medicine speaks of the five elements, which form a system centered around the five viscera—liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidney—paired with the six bowels—gallbladder, small intestine, stomach, large intestine, bladder, and triple burner. It governs the five bodily constituents: tendons, vessels, muscles, skin, and bones. It opens into the five sensory organs—the eyes, tongue, mouth, nose, and ears—and its vitality is expressed externally on the body’s surface through the nails, complexion, lips, body hair, and head hair, all integral to the system of visceral organs and tissues. This is an incredibly vast system. The five elements, in their endless cycle of generation and restriction, produce myriad changes. One cannot simply copy mechanically. To attempt to learn it all is to remain an apprentice until death. My ancestors were physicians for five generations, so I understood this principle very early on: to be a jack-of-all-trades is to be a master of none. It’s better to focus on one area and become a specialist with broad capabilities. That’s why our ancestors decided long ago to specialize in stroke.”

His expression grew animated, his voice rising. ”After five generations of dedicated research, we finally developed a formula...”

Du Heng found it hard to listen. If not for the cameras filming, he would have hocked up a thick wad of phlegm and spat it out. What a load of rubbish.

His spiel might sound profound, but it was just the foundational course of viscera theory. While not every undergraduate clinical Chinese Medicine Doctor might be able to recite it, which postgraduate clinical Chinese Medicine Doctor doesn’t know that by heart? Even if they couldn’t always apply it, their theoretical understanding was far more thorough than this ”old immortal’s.” All that convoluted talk was just scratching the surface; it sounded mystical, but it was utter nonsense.

Du Heng was fuming internally, but as he listened to the ”old immortal’s” explanation of stroke, his brow furrowed. It sounded familiar!

Suddenly, his eyes lit up. Wasn’t this from the thesis on the general theory of stroke he had written last year? This lecher is truly shameless! To actually claim it as his own understanding! When he was looking up materials and reading papers online, couldn’t he have at least checked the author’s name?

Watching the lecher speak so eloquently, Du Heng hesitated for a moment. Could it really be his own understanding? We are all TCM practitioners; we all learn the same fundamental principles. Differences in treatment methods might arise from different schools of thought, like the Supporting Yang School, the Nourishing Yin School, or the Supplementing Earth School. However, when it comes to the same type of illness, things like its pathogenesis and etiology will ultimately lead to the same conclusions, despite different paths taken. It wouldn’t be strange if their understanding was the same; it would be strange if it were different.