This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

After a busy day at work, Du Heng returned home early. Wu Shengnan also kept her promise and came home early that day.

However, this arrangement only lasted for that one day. Afterward, Wu Shengnan would either return late at night, not come home at all, or even be gone for two or three consecutive days.

During these periods, Wu Shengnan would tell Du Heng some things about her work, provided they didn’t violate any regulations.

Initially, Du Heng wasn’t used to this, but as time passed, he gradually adapted.

The only thing he found unsettling was the quietness of returning to an empty house each day.

Fortunately, during this period, Du Heng began preparing his thesis. Every evening, he would organize the data sent by Wu Buwei, search for relevant literature and theoretical sources, and keep his schedule packed. Consequently, he gradually paid less attention to Wu Shengnan’s late nights out.

A month passed in the blink of an eye. During this time, Du Heng had identified several potential research directions and outlined their general frameworks.

Once everything was organized, Du Heng called Wu Buwei the next morning, asking him to come over and discuss the allocation of these research topics.

However, before Wu Buwei could arrive, Du Xuejing timidly pushed open the office door and slipped inside.

Seeing Du Xuejing’s sheepish demeanor, Du Heng chuckled. ”If you want to come in, just do so openly. Why act like you’re a thief sneaking into a house?”

Du Xuejing playfully stuck her tongue out at Du Heng before walking in somewhat diffidently.

Du Heng looked amused. ”What’s wrong? Did you not complete the task Doctor Ma assigned you yesterday, and now you’re here seeking my help?”

At Du Heng’s teasing, Du Xuejing’s expression faltered. ”Little Uncle, Mr. Ma has me copying prescriptions every day. My fingers are cramping from all the writing! Could you please talk to Mr. Ma and ask if he can assign me a different task?”

Du Heng’s expression turned serious. ”Mr. Ma is an attending physician of traditional Chinese medicine. His knowledge and expertise are more than sufficient to teach a first-year medical student like yourself. Moreover, he has mentored many interns, so his experience is truly unrivaled.

He understands which methods are best and most effective for new students like you, so don’t question the tasks he assigns.

Besides, I told you from the very beginning that I wouldn’t interfere with Mr. Ma’s arrangements for you. I have no objections whatsoever to how he manages your training.

Furthermore, Du Xuejing, you must understand this: Mr. Ma is willing to mentor you primarily as a favor to me. Therefore, you are not in a position to be selective about your tasks.”

Du Xuejing lowered her head, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her clothes. She had anticipated this kind of response, which was why she had only mentioned her concerns tentatively. However, she hadn’t expected Du Heng to react so strongly.

”I was just voicing a thought, Little Uncle. I didn’t mean anything more by it,” Du Xuejing said, a hint of grievance in her tone.

Du Heng continued in a serious tone, ”If your tasks are many and the coursework is demanding, as long as your attitude is right and you are truly learning, I won’t mind if you don’t complete everything perfectly.

But if you begin to distrust your teacher and become picky about your assigned work right at the start of your studies, then that clearly indicates a problem with your attitude.”

Looking at his niece, Du Heng spoke earnestly, ”Tingting, for a novice in traditional Chinese medicine, copying prescriptions is the simplest and most direct path to learning.

You follow your teacher, watch him treat patients with your own eyes, and listen with your own ears. Then, the process of copying prescriptions becomes your way to review, consolidate, and deepen your understanding. Honestly, Tingting, not every student of traditional Chinese medicine has such an opportunity. I, for example, didn’t.”

Du Heng gestured to himself. ”During my university internship, I had to practically beg the nurses and compete for the chance just to change a patient’s gauze bandages.

Most of my time was spent clutching a book, trying to find a quiet corner to study. As long as I wasn’t in anyone’s way, nobody paid me any mind.

Alternatively, I’d be called over by a nurse to assist with minor tasks.

Being allowed into the consultation room or to copy prescriptions—those were privileges reserved for students who had connections or were graduate students.

When I began working at the Health Clinic, I was put straight to work. I had a thick book of Verified Prescriptions, but I didn’t dare use them. I didn’t know the appropriate dosages, nor did I understand why a seemingly correct prescription would fail simply because, for instance, astragalus hadn’t been substituted with codonopsis.

Do you have any idea how long it took me to figure out how to use those prescriptions correctly?”

Du Heng held up seven fingers. ”Seven years. A full seven years. Add the five years of my schooling, and that’s twelve years I spent learning. It was only then—plus a stroke of incredible luck where I suddenly had a breakthrough—that I finally began to truly understand these things.

But do you realize? Some of my classmates, those who graduated with me but didn’t have a Master to guide them, still make mistakes even now when using Chinese herbal medicine to treat a simple cold in their county hospitals.

Tingting, in today’s society, acquiring knowledge is relatively easy. Applying that knowledge effectively, however, is a different matter entirely.

Sometimes, the barrier to understanding is like a thin sheet of paper. Yet, without a teacher to point it out, you could spend a lifetime fumbling and never find the knack.”