Dr. Xu: A Chinese Medicine Novel

A lesson at the clinic leaves very different impressions.

“Why are you dragging me out? I hadn’t even exposed his tricks yet.” Ben’s wife still wouldn’t let it go.

Ben felt like punching the foolish woman. Caught between laughter and exasperation, he said, “Please, will you stop embarrassing yourself?”

“Embarrassing myself? He’s not embarrassed to manipulate people, so why should I be embarrassed to call him out?” she demanded.[1]

“What are you talking about? Is that the point? Why do you women always miss the point?”

“How is that not the point? What he’s doing is rotten! Isn’t that the point?”

“Shit,” Ben muttered. “Why do you women get so worked up the moment someone says ‘manipulation’? Come on. Go and check on your brother. He’s losing his mind.”

Only then did his wife turn her attention away from manipulation and look at Leo Cao, who was walking ahead of them.

Leo was deathly pale. He walked unsteadily, looking utterly lost. Everything he thought he knew was beginning to fall apart.

“What’s wrong?” his sister asked, finally noticing his condition.

Leo’s eyes were vacant, his face ghastly. “That can’t be right. Who is he? Who is he? It doesn’t make sense. It’s impossible…” he muttered.

“Leo!” His sister grabbed him and shook him hard.

He finally came to his senses and turned toward her in surprise. “What?”

“What’s wrong with you? You’re talking to yourself.”

He turned away again, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just can’t see how it’s possible!”

“What’s impossible about it? He was manipulating people!”

Ben had no words. She was obsessed!

He sighed. “I told you Evan knew what he was doing. He’s a real doctor who can actually treat patients. You just wouldn’t believe me. Now look what’s happened.”

Leo was questioning everything. “He really graduated from Nanzhongyi?”[2]

“Of course.”

“How long ago?”

“He only just graduated!”

Leo could hardly believe it. “Impossible. Even a Nanzhongyi graduate couldn’t have that kind of ability. What the hell does someone fresh out of school know? Does he come from a medical family? Which old doctor did he train under?”

Ben shook his head uncertainly. “I don’t think so. His family doesn’t seem to have a tradition of practicing Chinese medicine. I don’t think he has a master either. Otherwise he’d be learning beside his master and copying prescriptions now that he’s graduated.”[3]

The corners of Leo’s mouth turned down. This time, he really was questioning everything.

“But now you mention it, it’s strange,” Ben said. “Not long ago, all he could prescribe was Siwu Tang. In this past week or so, he’s suddenly become unbelievably good. Clara says he’s a genius. I suppose that has to be it.”[4]

Leo considered this. “Get me his full name, a photograph, and his national ID number.”

Ben stared. “What for?”

“I’m going to look into him. I happen to know people at Nanzhongyi.”

“Why do you need to investigate him?”

“There’s something uncanny about that kid. Why shouldn’t I look into him? I made a complete fool of myself today, in front of all those people. Am I not even allowed to know where he came from?

“And the bastard tried to manipulate me!”

“What?” Ben was stunned.

“He did it to you too?” his wife asked, suddenly excited.

Leo nodded firmly. “Yes. I nearly fell for it! He kept putting me on the defensive and hitting back. He questioned me, set traps to make me look foolish, criticized me, told me off. Once he’d left me with no way to save face, he comforted me and shared his medical experience.

“If I had any less experience in the workplace, I’d have thought he was a good teacher, for God’s sake! That’s workplace manipulation, isn’t it? First he tells you off, then he soothes you, with a little teaching and knowledge thrown in.”

Ben was speechless. How the hell did that count as manipulation?

“Sneaky little bastard!” his wife said through gritted teeth.

Ben was even more speechless.

“Get it for me as soon as possible,” Leo told him. “Don’t drag your feet.” With a dark expression, he lowered his head and walked off.

Ben was baffled. What the hell? Manipulation? Humiliation? When had Evan insulted him or humiliated him? Hadn’t he spent all that time teaching him how to diagnose and treat patients?

Plenty of old doctors were reluctant to pass on valuable experience like that!

How had it ended in a grudge?

Ben couldn’t understand it.

Back at Mingxin Clinic, Evan said to Clara, “Clara, pack up the rest of her medicine.”

Then he turned to Second Sis. “Take this home and have it two or three times a day. After three or four doses, you should be pretty much better. Come back when you’ve finished it and I’ll have another look. If anything has changed by then, we’ll prescribe something else.”

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“That fast?” she asked in surprise. “Doesn’t that mean I could be better in a day? I took medicine for ages before, and I even went to the hospital for IV drips several times!”

Evan nodded. “Chinese medicine can work very quickly when it matches the pattern. Just come back for another consultation when you’ve finished it.”

“Will do!” Second Sis answered happily. The vomiting in pregnancy had tormented her for so long she’d felt she wanted to die. Now that she finally felt better, she couldn’t have been happier.

She nudged Little Octopus’s shoulder. “Hey, your boyfriend’s really good.”

Little Octopus blushed bright red.

Behind them, Clara was trembling… positively shaking…

Her Majesty liked the look of Evan much better now. She had seen how wretched Second Sis had been, vomiting up everything she ate. All those specialists had failed to cure her, yet this young doctor had managed it.

He was even better than the specialists in the county!

Her Majesty nodded approvingly. He might not have an established public-sector post, but at least he had ability. A man with ability wasn’t likely to go hungry…[5]

Evan’s score in her estimation kept rising. +1, +1, +1, +1, +1…

Evan tidied the books on the table. “What’s the matter? Do you argue with your husband a lot?” he asked Second Sis.

“He’s always making me angry,” she said indignantly.

“Try not to get angry so often. The Liver is fundamental to a woman’s constitution, and it tends to be exuberant. Anger or low spirits can harm the Liver and easily lead to Liver constraint.[6]

“Especially now that you’re pregnant. Blood gathers in the womb, leaving the Liver short of nourishment. That already makes excessive Liver fire more likely. If you get angry, the fire becomes even stronger and moves across to attack the Stomach, which can make your vomiting in pregnancy worse. Keep your emotions steady.”[7]

“It’s not as if I want to be angry…” Second Sis muttered.

“What did he do this time?” Little Octopus asked.

Second Sis snorted. “I told him I wanted one of those boxed meals they serve on high-speed trains. And what did he do? He went to the station and bought me one. Wouldn’t you be angry?”

“Huh?” Little Octopus was dumbfounded.

Evan shook his head, at a loss for words. He pointed at the counter. “You can pay over there.”

Second Sis stared. “I still have to pay?”

Her Majesty rolled her eyes.

Little Octopus tugged at Second Sis’s sleeve in embarrassment. “Sis…”

Second Sis pursed her lips. “Your boyfriend’s pretty stingy,” she whispered.

Little Octopus was even more embarrassed.

In the end, Second Sis went to pay. This time, even Clara’s hands shook as she took the money!

The Octopus family left.

Clara sat in her chair, looking badly shaken. Once she’d steadied herself a little, she took out her phone, ready to erase the evidence. Then a voice sounded beside her.

“Well, you’ve been having a nice chat!”

Reader Notes

↩︎ “PUA” as an accusation. The Chinese dialogue repeatedly uses PUA, an English acronym that has acquired a wider meaning in Chinese slang: psychological or emotional manipulation, including at work. It is translated here with “manipulation” and related forms so the repeated accusation remains recognizable. Leo and his sister apply that label to Evan’s behavior; Ben disputes their reading. The expression itself does not settle what happened. Source: Language Log — PUA, part 2.↩︎ Nanzhongyi. This is the Chinese abbreviated name of Nanjing University of Chinese Medicine, retained from earlier chapters. The university’s charter gives that short name alongside its full English name. Leo is trying to reconcile Evan’s apparent new-graduate status with the ability he has just witnessed. His view of what graduates can know is his own; neither the abbreviation nor the institutional source verifies the fictional doctor’s qualifications or skill. Source: Nanjing University of Chinese Medicine — University charter, article 2 (in Chinese).↩︎ Learning beside a master. Clinical mentorship in Chinese medicine can involve observing consultations, recording and studying prescriptions, and learning how a senior practitioner reasons through a case. “Copying prescriptions” here means that kind of training, not stealing another doctor’s work. Ben distinguishes learning through one’s family from having a personal master, and his comments remain uncertain. They do not establish that every graduate must enter such an arrangement. Source: National Administration of Traditional Chinese Medicine — Clinical mentorship education measures, articles 3, 6 and 15–16 (in Chinese).↩︎ Siwu Tang. Often called Four Substances Decoction in English, this is a traditional formula classified as supplementing blood, with the associated aim of regulating blood in Chinese medicine’s functional vocabulary. It has appeared earlier in the novel. Ben invokes it here as the limit of Evan’s former repertoire, rather than proposing it for the pregnant patient. This reference supplies no new prescription, ingredients, or instructions for her case. Source: Hong Kong Baptist University — Si Wu Tang, formula F00073.↩︎ An established public-sector post. Bianzhi refers here to an authorized position within China’s public-institution staffing system, distinct from simply having work in a private clinic. The public system has formal arrangements for posts, recruitment, employment, pay, and benefits. For Little Octopus’s mother, such a post is part of judging a prospective partner’s security. Her changing opinion reflects the scene; it does not establish Evan’s future employment or income. Sources: Ministry of Justice — Regulations on Personnel Management in Public Institutions, chapters II–IV and VII (in Chinese); National Health and Family Planning Commission — County public-hospital reform casebook, printed p. 175, point 4 (in Chinese).↩︎ The Liver and a woman’s constitution. Evan invokes a traditional gynecological saying that gives the Liver a foundational role in women’s physiology, particularly through its associations with blood and the regulation of qi. “Exuberant” and “constraint” belong to that theoretical vocabulary. The capitalized Liver denotes the traditional functional system, beyond the anatomical organ. His generalizations about women and emotion remain his speech; “low spirits” is not a psychiatric diagnosis, nor does “harm” report a liver-function test. Source: Tan Cheng and Li Xiaojun, Beijing University of Chinese Medicine — The origins and clinical uses of “women take the Liver as their foundation,” pp. 30–31 (in Chinese).↩︎ Blood, Liver fire, and vomiting. This continues the traditional pregnancy model discussed earlier: blood is directed toward nourishing the pregnancy, and the balance of blood, qi, and yang is understood to change. Liver fire is a heat-pattern term; attacking the Stomach describes disruption of its normally downward movement. Evan links that model to emotion and vomiting. The explanation does not add a new examination or replace the deficiency-and-cold diagnosis he has already given. Sources: Shanghai University of Traditional Chinese Medicine — Gynecology syllabus, chapter 10, printed p. 175 / PDF p. 177 (in Chinese); WHO — International Standard Terminologies on Traditional Chinese Medicine, entries 1315 and 1317.