Dr. Xu: A Chinese Medicine Novel

With the emergency team out of options, Evan asks for one final attempt.

Everyone turned toward the voice.

David Du and Director Guo both felt their hearts jolt. He had stepped forward after all.

Leo Cao was stunned too. Of course he knew Evan Xu was a good doctor, but this patient was dying. Even the hospital’s emergency doctors had given up and said there was no hope. How could he still dare to take over?

Had he lost his mind?

Leo hurried over and said quietly, “Dr. Xu, perhaps you didn’t hear them just now. There’s no hope for this patient.”

Evan kept his head lowered, enduring the discomfort. He had only just returned from the training room. Some rest would allow him to recover, but he had no time for that now.

Feeling so ill made him irritable. “I know. But do you have another option?”

Leo was taken aback.

So was everyone else.

Evan raised his head. Both his eyes were bloodshot.

He stood up and let out a quick breath, his brow tightly furrowed. “Director Du, let me try. Let me make one final attempt to save her!”

“Well…” Du couldn’t bring himself to decide.

Guo was astonished too.

The other young Chinese medicine doctors were dumbfounded. He really was going to try…

“Are you confident?” Marcus Cao asked.

Evan shook his head, his voice rough. “I don’t know. I can’t say before I’ve seen her. But if her Stomach qi hasn’t failed, if her heart is still beating and there’s a breath left in her, there’s still a chance to bring her back.”[1]

His words startled them all.

The doctor who had just led the resuscitation was not pleased to hear it. He had already said there was no hope, and now this man was saying she still had a chance?

“Who is he?” he quietly asked the nurse beside him.

“Dr. Evan Xu,” the nurse whispered back. “The young Chinese medicine doctor everyone’s been talking about lately—the one who might be joining the specialists’ clinic.”[2]

The doctor looked startled. “Chinese medicine?”

The nurse nodded.

His expression turned doubtful. It wasn’t that he had anything against Chinese medicine. But saving critically ill patients was hardly its strength. If even his team could do nothing more, what could a Chinese medicine doctor do?

He suspected Evan was so desperate to show off that he had lost his mind. But at a time like this, what was there to show off? Wouldn’t failing to save her be even more humiliating?

Marcus nodded quickly. He had an inexplicable faith in Evan. “All right, Dr. Xu. Go in and try once more!”

Evan nodded too, then looked at Du.

Du drew a small breath. Without hesitating much longer, he turned to Guo. “What do you think, sir?”

“Well…” Guo hesitated for a moment too.

Marcus was growing impatient. “Do we have another option? If we don’t let Dr. Xu try, she really will die!”

Guo clenched his teeth and exhaled heavily. “Then… Dr. Xu, go and try.”

“All right.” Evan nodded and started toward the resuscitation room, but stumbled slightly as he took a step.

Leo hurried to support him. “Dr. Xu, are you all right?” he asked anxiously.

For a moment, no one said anything. He was going to try to save someone when he was in this state himself?

Evan shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Maybe I’ve been standing too long. I feel a little unwell.”

NovelPhoenix’s website carries the author’s chapter; this copy was made without permission, while reading the source supports them.

Leo looked puzzled. He turned to the young Chinese medicine doctors. “Alex—come here. Go in with Dr. Xu.”

“Me?” Alex Xu froze, then quickly collected himself. “Oh. Yes, yes, of course.”

He hurried over to help Evan.

“No need to hold me up,” Evan said. “Let’s hurry inside.”

They took basic protective precautions and entered the resuscitation room.

The others waited outside, each with a different expression.

Inside the resuscitation room, they saw the patient lying on the bed: a woman who looked about fifty, so emaciated that her face had lost its shape. There was hardly any flesh left on it.

Yet she had an ordinary, unassuming face, even a kindly, familiar look, like a woman from next door.

Evan and Alex were both momentarily stunned. This was the vicious human trafficker who had been wanted for more than ten years?

Evan slowly exhaled and composed himself at once. “Come on. Let’s examine her.”

He went to the bedside and carefully studied her face. It was an ashen blue-gray. Her eyes were still slightly open.

There was no sign of awareness in them. He waved a hand in front of her eyes, but she did not react.

He kept watching. She was gasping violently, each breath lifting her shoulders. Phlegm rattled wetly in her throat, and spasms of coughing kept bringing up white phlegm and saliva.

Her lips and all ten fingernails were blue-purple. She scarcely looked human anymore.

It was as though an evil spirit had possessed her.

She was down to her last breath.

Alex stood rooted to the spot. He rarely had the chance to see a patient at the point of death. Seeing one for the first time left him shaken and at a loss.

Evan continued his examination. Her limbs were icy cold, the cold extending beyond her elbows and knees. Her ten fingers no longer looked like fingers; they were swollen like little clubs.

Her legs were swollen too, the flesh as soft as mud. A light press of a finger left a deep pit that did not go away for a long time.

Evan removed her oxygen mask and pried her mouth open to inspect her tongue. It was swollen, with a gray, greasy coating and streaks of dark mottling along both sides. He checked her vital signs on the monitor. Her heart rate was over 150 beats per minute.[3]

He felt her wrist pulse. It was so chaotic that he could not rely on it.

Her breathing was barely there. Her whole body was cold except for the remaining warmth in her chest. Her heart had not stopped, but she was down to her last breath. Almost all of her was already through death’s door; only one foot remained outside. Now it was up to Evan to pull her back.

Evan slowly exhaled, his heart sinking further. Whether there was still one final chance to save her would depend on the pulses in her feet.

He moved to her feet, swollen and soft as mud, and let out another breath. He suppressed the discomfort in his head. To feel a pulse, he had to keep his mind still.

He slowly extended three fingers to examine her Fuyang, Taixi, and Taichong pulses.[4]

He closed his eyes slightly and felt them with care.

Alex stood beside him, looking here and there in bewilderment. Seeing Evan examine the pulses in the patient’s feet only confused him more. He had no idea what Evan was doing.

A moment later, Evan’s eyes flew open. He could still feel the Fuyang, Taixi, and Taichong pulses beating in an orderly rhythm beneath his fingers.

There must still be one last thread of life!

Reader Notes

Reader Notes

↩︎ Stomach qi and the possibility of recovery. Stomach qi refers to the traditional functions of the Stomach, or of the Spleen and Stomach together. It is not gas in the stomach. Here Evan uses the term to judge whether any sustaining function remains, alongside the continuing heartbeat and breathing. This follows the reasoning introduced in the preceding training-room chapter. The terminology source explains the concept; Evan’s conclusion about a remaining chance belongs to his judgment in the story. Source: WHO — TCM terminology, entry 188.↩︎ The specialists’ clinic. Mingyi guan is an outpatient service associated with experienced or renowned physicians. A university-affiliated Chinese medicine hospital describes its own service as combining consultations, teaching, and research. This gives the nurse’s remark its significance: Evan is young for the reputation such a clinic suggests. Her words remain a report that he might join it, rather than confirmation of a completed appointment. The cited hospital is a real example, not the fictional hospital’s identity. Source: Second Affiliated Hospital of Shaanxi University of Chinese Medicine — Mingyi Guan introduction (in Chinese).↩︎ Inspection and palpation. Traditional Chinese medical examination draws on four methods: inspection, listening and smelling, inquiry, and palpation. Studying the face and tongue belongs to inspection, while feeling the pulse belongs to palpation. A “greasy” coating is dense and fine-textured, clinging to the tongue. The tongue and pulse findings in this scene are distinct from the monitor’s heart-rate reading. These sources explain methods and terminology, without establishing this patient’s diagnosis or prognosis. Sources: Hong Kong Polytechnic University — Four Diagnostic Methods; WHO — TCM terminology, entry 682.↩︎ The three lower pulse sites. Fuyang, Taixi, and Taichong here name sites around the foot and ankle where Evan feels for pulsation. He is not inserting acupuncture needles. This repeats the examination taught in the earlier chapters when the wrist pulse could not be relied on. WHO terminology describes Fuyang and examination beyond the wrist, including Taixi. It does not certify the novel’s entire three-site assessment or its prognosis. The final inference of a remaining thread of life is Evan’s conclusion. Source: WHO — TCM terminology, entries 855–856 and 919.