Dr. Xu: A Chinese Medicine Novel

After dinner with Leo, Evan makes his way home through the old town.

Evan rarely drank. The last time had been at his graduation dinner. He couldn’t drink much; even a little too much made him dizzy. Half a bottle of beer was about his limit.

This time, though, he had finished two bottles by himself. He hadn’t let Leo take him home. He walked back alone. It was already dark, and the old town’s streetlights were dim. Fortunately, light spilled from the shops along the road.

Evan walked slowly, already feeling woozy. He stopped to lean against a roadside tree, a little nauseated.

He waited quite a while, but nothing came up. Thinking he was all right, he started to leave. The moment he straightened, his stomach lurched.

He braced himself against the tree and vomited.

He retched so hard that the veins stood out.

Through the haze, he looked up and seemed to see the dying old man lying by the road again. The old man whose pulse had all but vanished, who had reached feebly toward him. The man who had once destroyed everything he had.

Evan wiped his mouth, leaned his back against the tree, and slowly slid down. Slumped on the ground, he wore a bitter, self-mocking expression.

“What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong? I was only doing my duty as a doctor!”

He lowered his head and laughed. “Maybe my mistake was being a doctor of Chinese medicine.”

He turned toward the scattered lights again. The world was full of life, and he had no part in it.

Early the next morning, Evan woke in a daze. He had no idea how he’d got home the night before. He got up and washed his face, which helped him feel a little more awake.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. He tried to force a smile, but even his smile looked weary.

He shook his head, breathed out, and tried to pull himself together.

Closing his eyes, he opened the system and discovered a pile of unclaimed acceleration packs.

Evan was baffled. What was going on?

He tapped to open them.

Congratulations! Loading time reduced by three months.

Congratulations! Loading time reduced by five months.

Congratulations! Loading time reduced by two months.

He selected “Use all.”

Congratulations! Total loading time reduced: four years and two months.

Evan was astonished. What had Clara done last night? She’d knocked almost half the time off in a single night!

Now he wondered whether Clara had only given him the system because she didn’t want it herself. Why else did it suit her so well? Asking her to run his account had been exactly the right decision.

What Evan didn’t know was just how fierce Clara had been online the night before. In one night, DrXuChineseMedicine had earned the nickname “the sharp-tongued doctor of Chinese medicine.”

The Zhihu app was buzzing.[1]

Evan didn’t concern himself with all that. He texted Clara to ask for some time off. Last night he’d promised to go with Leo to the hospital of Chinese medicine to consult on a patient. The case must be tricky; otherwise, there would have been no need to bring him in.

After washing up, Evan went to the hospital. He called Leo from downstairs. Leo came down to meet him, and they headed for the inpatient building.

“You’re early, Dr. Xu,” Leo said with a smile. “Have you had breakfast? Shall we get something at the hospital canteen first?”

“No need to fuss. Tell me about the patient. I still have to get back to work later.”

Leo nodded. “All right. She had her first baby here, and she’s had her second here too. Her contractions were too weak both times, so both deliveries were by cesarean section.”

“But since this operation, she hasn’t been able to pass urine or stool. It’s been three days. Her abdomen’s swollen like a drum, and she can’t lie down. Catheterization and enemas haven’t helped. Her condition’s getting quite serious. We’ve tried Chinese herbal medicine as well, with very little effect.”[2]

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Evan frowned and gave a slight nod. “Let’s go and see her first.”

“All right.” Leo looked at him. Even faced with a difficult case like this, Evan was perfectly composed. So young, yet he had the bearing of a seasoned commander, without a trace of nerves at being called in for a hospital consultation. Leo saw him in a new light.

What Leo didn’t know was that during his years inside the system, Evan had often been invited to consultations as a well-known Beijing physician. He might not have seen it all, but he knew what to expect.

Evan followed Leo into the inpatient building.

They went up to the third floor and entered the room.

Leo went in first. “Ms. Hu, are you feeling any better?”

The patient was in bed with her eyes closed, unwilling even to open them. Only when she heard someone calling her did she wearily open her eyes and look at Leo. She said nothing.

Her husband was at the bedside. “She’s still the same, Dr. Cao. What are we going to do? Her belly’s so swollen, it’s as big as when she was pregnant. What… what are we going to do?”

“Don’t worry,” Leo said. “This is Dr. Xu. I asked him to join me for a consultation today. We’ll look into it together.”

Her husband stared. “Him?”

Leo nodded.

The man looked Evan up and down several times. “Isn’t he your intern?”

Leo was at a loss. “What? Dr. Xu was an outstanding student. Come on, let him examine your wife.”

He knew he couldn’t explain too much. The more he explained, the more trouble it would cause.

Still hesitant, the husband agreed. They were in a hospital, after all; it wouldn’t do to argue with the doctor. Besides, he was only going to take a look. That couldn’t hurt her.

Evan had been watching the patient’s face the whole time. She was so pale she was almost gray. She couldn’t even lie flat and had to remain propped up. While they talked, she hadn’t so much as opened her eyes to look at them.

Evan frowned too. This was serious.

He sat beside her to take her pulse. Calming his mind, he carefully examined the pulses at both wrists.

There were other patients in the room. They all watched curiously.

Seeing how composed Evan was, the husband felt inexplicably reassured. He turned to Leo, who nodded at him.

After a while, Evan finished examining both wrists. “Has she lost a lot of blood?”

“Yes,” Leo said quickly. “Her hemoglobin—where’s the report?”

“Oh.” The husband hurried to find it and handed it to Evan.

Evan looked at it. Her hemoglobin was far too low: only 6 g. No wonder her pulse was extraordinarily large and hollow, and her face almost gray with pallor.[3]

He put the report down. “Has she passed any gas?”

“No,” her husband said. “Not since the delivery.”

Evan’s frown deepened. “Ms. Hu. Ms. Hu, wake up. How are you feeling now?”

She opened her eyes a little and looked at him. Her voice was very faint, her breathing barely perceptible. “My belly’s so swollen. It feels like it’s going to kill me. I want to move my bowels.”

Her husband couldn’t bear to see her suffering. “Dr. Cao, can’t you find some way to help her move her bowels first?”

Leo’s brow was tightly furrowed too. If they could have done that, wouldn’t they have done it already?

Evan continued his examination. Her abdomen was swollen, but seemed hollow inside.

He stood and went over to Leo. “Dr. Cao, what medicines have you used so far?” he asked quietly.

“Small doses of herbs to promote bowel movements and purge,” Leo replied. “They haven’t worked. We’re considering increasing the dose.”[4]

Evan’s brow tightened. “Raise the dose, and you’ll hasten her death,” he said sharply.

“What!” Leo was startled.

Reader Notes

↩︎ The account on Zhihu. Zhihu is a Chinese question-and-answer community, introduced at the end of the previous chapter. DrXuChineseMedicine is the account name Clara registered on Evan’s behalf. The newly earned nickname describes the account’s biting tone; it is not a medical qualification. Source: Zhihu — 2022 ESG Report, section 4.1.1.↩︎ Urine and stool. The Chinese expression erbian refers to the two kinds of elimination: urination and bowel movements. A urinary catheter drains the bladder, while an enema introduces liquid into the bowel through the anus. These address different routes, so both are retained in Leo’s account. His statement that neither helped does not specify why catheterization failed or establish a particular diagnosis. The three-day duration and the reported treatments belong to this fictional case. Sources: NHS — Urinary catheters, overview; National Cancer Institute — Enema.↩︎ Hemoglobin and a hollow pulse. Hemoglobin is the oxygen-carrying protein in red blood cells; its blood concentration is measured in a laboratory. The source gives only “6 g,” without a volume denominator, and that incomplete unit is retained here. A hollow, or kou, pulse is a traditional tactile description: broad near the surface but empty-feeling at the center, compared to a scallion stalk. The terminology associates it with blood or fluid loss. Evan’s connection between the report, pallor, and pulse is his interpretation; the pulse itself is not a hemoglobin measurement. Sources: MedlinePlus — Hemoglobin test; WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entry 905, printed p. 90.↩︎ Purgative treatment. Purgation is a traditional treatment category involving medicines intended to clear or expel material through the bowels. Here Leo describes herbs meant to promote bowel movements, rather than the draining manipulations used in acupuncture. The source names neither a formula nor its ingredients or dose. Evan objects to increasing the dose for this patient. His warning ends the chapter; neither the reason for it nor an alternative treatment has yet been given. Source: WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entries 2301–2305, printed pp. 330–331.