Dr. Xu: A Chinese Medicine Novel

Evan’s online argument continues, with Clara supplying the comebacks. But the replies leave him thinking about more than his opponent.

The main argument Chinese medicine bashers relied on was that modern medicine—or science more broadly—couldn’t find or prove the existence of its channels and acupuncture points, or its theories of yin and yang and the five phases.[1]

With that blade in hand, they were unstoppable. Whenever they encountered a doctor of Chinese medicine, all they had to do was draw it, and the doctor would be left speechless.

MaxMaxMax had been at this for some time. He’d used that move to silence Chinese medicine practitioners very successfully, and had even reduced a few students to tears.

He hadn’t expected it to fail against Evan. For a moment, his brain simply couldn’t process it. Modern science couldn’t find Chinese medicine’s yin and yang and five phases—and that was modern science’s fault now?

Their theories of channels and acupuncture points had no anatomical foundation, and somehow that was our problem too? So we’re just too weak to discover you, is that it?

Comrade MaxMaxMax, Chinese medicine basher, couldn’t come up with a reply for quite some time.

Evan, meanwhile, was beside himself with excitement. He’d thought he would have to wait ten years for his second round of training under a mentor. Only a few evenings had passed, and he’d already knocked off most of that time.

Only four years remained.

That last response had been especially powerful. The system’s reward had been enormous.

His admiration for Clara soared. I, Evan Xu, hereby proclaim you the goddess of online insults!

His delight was written all over his face. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he could see Oliver Liu and Dr. Qian again. The bug still hadn’t been fixed, after all. It was still handing out speed-up packs.

Before he could enjoy himself much longer, another reply arrived.

MaxMaxMax:

You’re talking fucking nonsense!

Evan paused. Huh? Had the guy seen his earlier reply?

MaxMaxMax immediately sent another message.

You’re twisting the argument. Typical sophistry. How can anyone discover something that doesn’t exist, something you’ve dreamed up?

Evan brought out his secret weapon again: Clara, goddess of online insults.

DrXuChineseMedicine, replying to MaxMaxMax:

How can you be so sure it doesn’t exist? Has modern science discovered and understood one hundred percent of the human body? Do you understand one hundred percent of the world? What grounds do you have for saying the theories of Chinese medicine are imaginary?

After sending that reply, Evan felt wonderfully refreshed and full of energy.

“Huh? Why didn’t the system give me a speed-up pack this time? Does it only count one response? Or does it only count one person?”

He couldn’t work it out. The system had the final say, after all.

MaxMaxMax:

More sophistry! What, you Chinese medicine doctors are better than modern science now? Twist the argument all you want. The fact is, when you dissect a human body, you can’t see channels or acupuncture points!

With the goddess’s guidance, Evan replied again.

DrXuChineseMedicine:

You can’t see Wi-Fi either, but you still enjoy using it, don’t you?

MaxMaxMax:

But we can prove Wi-Fi exists. Can you?

This one didn’t require Clara’s help. Evan could answer it himself.

DrXuChineseMedicine:

Of course.

MaxMaxMax:

How?

DrXuChineseMedicine:

The best proof is that it can treat illness! You say acupuncture points can’t be proved. Take menstrual pain: Ciliao and Shiqizhui are points that experience has shown to be effective. Either can work immediately on its own. Would sticking needles in at random do that?[2]

MaxMaxMax:

When your treatments work, it’s just coincidence!

DrXuChineseMedicine:

Then I’ll give you a filiform acupuncture needle. Why don’t you try sticking it in me?

MaxMaxMax:

I don’t know acupuncture!

DrXuChineseMedicine:

Then what the hell are you talking about?

The other man fell silent for a long time. Apparently, a truce.

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Evan tossed his phone aside. Sitting on the bed, he began to brood. He wasn’t angry with the basher. He was angry with Chinese medicine practitioners.

Even they didn’t believe in their own theories anymore. The body’s five zang organs corresponded to the five phases, but plenty of Chinese medicine doctors now called that pseudoscience. They didn’t even dare mention the five phases.[3]

Chinese medicine had declined because it had listened to modern science too much. Western medicine and Chinese medicine were two entirely different theoretical systems.

Test Chinese medicine against modern medicine, and of course hardly any of its theories or logic would hold up.

Use Chinese medicine’s theories to analyze Western medicine, and you’d find it was nonsense too.

No matter how damned great the Bible was, no Buddhist monk was going to treasure it!

The only test of medicine was how well it worked. If it could treat illness, help patients spend less and suffer less, then it was good medicine!

People were always saying Chinese medicine was traditional culture. It had nothing to do with traditional culture. It was a medical art. Its purpose was to treat illness and save lives, relieve ordinary people’s suffering, and spare them the torment of disease.

If Chinese medicine was going to be protected like a piece of traditional culture, it would be better to let it die out altogether!

If it couldn’t treat illness and save lives, what was the point of it?

The only way to revive Chinese medicine was to improve its results!

And the only way to do that was to return to Chinese medicine itself: use its methods and its way of thinking to identify patterns, write prescriptions, treat illness, and save lives!

A Buddhist monk should be holding Buddhist scriptures!

Still sitting on the bed, Evan shook his head and took a few deep breaths before he finally calmed down.

He couldn’t let himself get angry. Anger damaged the Liver. In Chinese medicine, the causes of disease came down to internal damage and externally contracted illness. The latter mainly involved the six external pathogenic influences; internal damage, apart from yin deficiency and yang deficiency, came from the seven emotions.[4]

It was suppressed anger and low spirits that had damaged his Liver before, leaving its qi constrained and causing a whole series of problems. People talked endlessly about Chinese medicine’s approach to preserving health, but the first thing was to keep your emotions stable.[5]

Evan knew he might not be able to change other people. He couldn’t change Ben Song, who wanted nothing more than to play Dou Dizhu and coast through life. But he could do his own part. At least he wanted to become a real doctor of Chinese medicine!

The next morning, Evan woke and went out. As usual, breakfast was two steamed buns from the shop outside the clinic. Simple and convenient.

“Morning, Clara,” he said.

“Morning…” Clara could barely open her eyes.

“Have you been having trouble sleeping lately? Are you sure you don’t want me to have a look?”

She shook her head, her eyes dull and exhausted. “No. Don’t worry about me.”

“All right.” Evan sat down at his usual seat.

Clara picked up her phone again and became absorbed in chatting.

Once Evan had finished breakfast, he began reading a medical book.

Ben arrived soon afterward. Today, he didn’t switch on the computer to play Dou Dizhu. Instead, he solemnly took out two medical books, put them on his desk, and sat up very straight. One book lay open, but he wasn’t looking at it. Every so often, he glanced at the door.

“Excuse me…” A woman’s voice suddenly came from the doorway.

Everyone looked over.

Ben’s eyes lit up.

Clara studied the woman at the door, puzzled and trying to remember. Which one of the women she’d been chatting with was this?

Evan rose from his seat near the door. “Hello. Can I help you?”

The woman looked toward him. “I’m not feeling very well. I’m looking for…”

“Wow…” she suddenly exclaimed when she saw his face.

Ben’s face darkened at once.

“Which doctor would you like to see?” Evan asked.

Her eyes hadn’t left him since she’d first looked at him. “I want to see you…”

“Ahem! Ahem!” Ben coughed hard twice.

Only then did she reluctantly say, “The one behind you… that very famous… Dr. Ben Song!”

Reader Notes

↩︎ Channels, yin and yang, and the five phases. These are the traditional concepts challenged in the previous chapter’s comment thread. The channels are also called meridians; the five phases are wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. Source: WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entries 3, 28, and 2908.↩︎ Ciliao, Shiqizhui, and the needle. These are named acupuncture points, also designated BL32 and EX-B8. A filiform needle is the fine, slender needle commonly associated with acupuncture; filiform means threadlike. The point names distinguish particular treatment sites from needling at random, which is the distinction Evan invokes. The claims about either point working by itself, and about treatment proving the theory, are his contributions to an online argument. No acupuncture is performed in this scene. Sources: Ma et al. — point selection in a primary dysmenorrhea trial, sections 2.4–2.5; WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entry 3106.↩︎ The five zang and five phases. The five zang are the Heart, Liver, Spleen, Lung, and Kidney, understood as interconnected functional systems. In the five-phase framework, they correspond respectively to fire, wood, earth, metal, and water. The phases describe relationships and change, rather than the material composition of organs. Capitalization marks this traditional usage in the translation. The surrounding passage follows Evan’s thoughts about how medicine should be judged. Sources: Chinese Medicine Hospital of Hong Kong — Zang-xiang, five zang paragraph; Beijing University of Chinese Medicine journal — Five phases, organs, and musical tones (in Chinese), PDF p. 2, section 2.↩︎ External influences and internal damage. The “six external pathogenic influences” are wind, cold, summer heat, dampness, dryness, and fire, understood as traditional categories of disease causation. The “seven emotions” are joy, anger, anxiety, overthinking, grief, fear, and fright; internal damage refers here to their excessive or disruptive effects. Yin deficiency concerns insufficient nourishing or moistening functions; yang deficiency concerns insufficient warming functions. These terms belong to the traditional framework, rather than naming microbes or simply describing a low body temperature. Evan’s compressed classification is retained as part of his reflection. Sources: WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entries 6–7, 281, 284–285, 1092, and 1096; Hong Kong Department of Health — Maintaining a healthy mental state, seven-emotions paragraph (in Chinese).↩︎ Anger and Liver qi. This recalls Evan’s earlier Liver qi stagnation. Within the traditional account, anger and emotional constraint can disturb the Liver’s regulation of qi. “Damaging the Liver” expresses that functional relationship; it does not report a new anatomical diagnosis. His conclusion about keeping emotions stable belongs to the same line of thought. Source: Hong Kong Department of Health — Maintaining a healthy mental state, “Anger damages the Liver” (in Chinese).