Back in his office, Du Heng closed the door and, hiding behind it, waved his fists in excitement.
Administering emergency acupuncture treatment was something he never dared to dream about in the past.
The accuracy of acupoints, the depth of needle insertion, the direction of the needle, and the technique of moving the needle—if there was any deviation in any of these, it would be impossible to achieve instant results.
Today, just moments ago, it took only two needles to solve the patient's breathing difficulty—the feeling of effortlessly and masterfully executing this left him floating on cloud nine.
After jumping around and venting his excitement in his office alone, he composed himself, returned to his chair, and focused on the next task.
Renowned in the Countryside: Treat 0/1,000 cases effectively (in progress), Monthly Supplement 50,000 yuan/month,
Reward: Traditional Chinese Medicine Occupation Expertise: Gynecology and Pediatrics (Unfinished).
While the reward of Gynecology and Pediatrics expertise didn't particularly catch Du Heng's attention, the 50,000 yuan a month certainly did. As he stared at the four glittering zeroes, he felt his mouth watering.
However, 1,000 treatment cases troubled Du Heng greatly.
As a first-tier medical institution in the township, the Health Clinic already had a small number of patients. Zhonghu Town was subordinate to the provincial capital Jinzhou; people could drive to a larger hospital in the city within an hour if they wanted to.
At present, the Health Clinic served three main functions: arranging hospital transfers for patients, allowing villagers to use their medical insurance to purchase medicine, and administering vaccinations for infants and toddlers in the town.
The clinic's own treatment capabilities had weakened substantially.
Patients were already scarce, and Zhang Jinlian seemed to love poaching them, leaving only a handful for Du Heng to treat.
Calculating the current treatment volume, he figured: an average of two patients per day, five workdays a week, meant only ten patients a week. To reach 1,000 cases, it would take two years.
This figure was optimistic, and the reality was likely to differ.
However, Du Heng felt it was more likely that the actual time needed would be even longer, meaning the timeline would have to be pushed back further.
Another crucial question was: what did the task mean by "effective treatment?"
Did it mean curing the illness, or did merely alleviating the symptoms and controlling the condition also count? There was no clear definition, causing Du Heng some confusion.
Nonetheless, when he summoned the screen again and saw the 1/1,000 progress, an idea began to form in his mind.
The single "1" undoubtedly resulted from his latest treatment. Emphysema couldn't be completely cured anyway. So, if he had already completed one "effective treatment," it meant that as long as the condition was controlled and the pain was alleviated, it was considered effective.
In that case, the scope of feasible operations broadened somewhat.
"Senior Brother, Fan Yuxiang has taken the medicine," Wu Buwei said, pushing open the door and walking in just as Du Heng was lost in thought.
"How is he now?"
"Other than still experiencing slight shortness of breath, his condition has improved a lot."
Glancing at the time, an idea struck Du Heng. "Buwei, did you drive today?"
Wu Buwei put down his teacup and pulled out his car keys. "Yes, it's parked in the backyard. Do you need it, Senior Brother? Here are the keys."
"Good, you drove. Wait for me for a moment."
After speaking, Du Heng got up and left the office.
At the registration office entrance, Du Heng intercepted Wang, who was holding a lunch box and heading to the canteen.
"Where are you off to, Wang?"
"Oh, don't play dumb. Of course, I'm going to get food from the canteen."
"It's rare for you to be free, Wang. How about letting your little brother treat you to a meal today?"
Wang, whose full name was Wang Zhenzhen, was thirty-five years old, with a good appearance and figure, truly in the prime of a mature woman's charm. When she heard Du Heng inviting her for a meal, she twirled her slender, willow-like waist and said teasingly, "You old tightwad, it's a rare day indeed when you offer to treat someone to dinner!"
Du Heng smiled awkwardly and took a slight step back. "I was saving money to build a house before, Wang, please don't blame me. Today, your little brother is treating, to make it up to you."
Wang rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just say you're still not married yet? Come on, what do you want from me?"
"What are you talking about, Wang? Can't I invite you to dinner without a reason? It's just a simple invitation for a meal."
"Really?"
"Would I lie about it?"
Wang Zhenzhen looked Du Heng up and down. "I don't think so. Did you hear something too?"
Du Heng was a bit confused. "Hear what?"
Wang Zhenzhen smiled at Du Heng. "Keep pretending. A few young men from your brother-in-law's workplace invited me to dinner yesterday, and today you're inviting me. Are you interested in my younger cousin and want me to introduce her to you?"
Du Heng was actually interested in the convenience Wang Zhenzhen offered at the registration office. If he wanted more patients, he really had no other options if the registration office didn't help. But he never imagined that inviting her for a meal would lead to talk of matchmaking.
Before he could explain, Wang Zhenzhen had already put down her lunch box, picked up her small bag, and started walking out. "You all have sharp eyes! She only came by once, and you all already noticed her. But I think highly of you, so I'll be the matchmaker."
Du Heng couldn't say much more. He went to his office, took off his white gown, called Wu Buwei, and they left immediately.
The three of them spent around 400 yuan on the meal. Du Heng settled the bill without blinking, which surprised Wu Buwei. In the nearly half a year he had known his senior brother, he had never seen him spend money so generously. What happened today?
Did he find some money?
While Wu Buwei was puzzled, Wang Zhenzhen was very happy.
Du Heng's previous stinginess was infamous throughout the Health Clinic. His generosity today showed that he was genuinely sincere in wanting her to be a matchmaker.
Although nothing explicit was said during the meal, Wang Zhenzhen felt she understood Du Heng's intentions.
Of course, she also thought highly of Du Heng. He had a formal job and a decent salary. Most importantly, the clinic was close to his home, he had built his own house—a two-story building, exquisite and modern—and he had no elderly parents living with him. With these conditions, he would be a perfect marriage partner for her cousin.
After the meal, the three of them returned to the Health Clinic immediately.
As soon as they entered the hall, they saw Fan Yuxiang waiting at the entrance of the registration office with his family.
"Fan Yuxiang, how are you feeling?" Bumping into him, Du Heng went up and asked.
"Much better, just still quite short of breath. When I climb stairs, I always feel like I can't catch my breath."
"That's a normal reaction, don't worry too much. Remember, you absolutely must not catch a cold, and be sure to spit out any phlegm. Eat more fruits like apples, pears, and oranges; they're good for you and will help with the cough and shortness of breath."
"Thank you, Doctor Du. I've really troubled you. After the acupuncture and medicine, I don't cough much anymore."
"That's good. Hurry up and get a check-up at the Pulmonary Hospital. Once there's a confirmed diagnosis, it will be easier to treat."
"I'm just waiting for the cashier room to open. When they arrive, I'll process the discharge."
Du Heng pointed at Wang Zhenzhen. "Then you can go ahead and process it; she's here now."
Back in the office, Wu Buwei asked, "Senior Brother, can you cure emphysema?"
Du Heng smiled and leisurely brewed tea. "In traditional Chinese medicine, there's no such disease as emphysema. For such conditions, traditional Chinese medicine treatment first addresses it as 'lung qi deficiency with rapid breathing' and applies therapy to support genuine qi. Once the symptoms improve, then we look at the specific situation for syndrome differentiation."
After making the tea, Du Heng sat down in his chair.
He had earned money, his skills had improved, and he was in a great mood. Since Wu Buwei was willing to learn, he was willing to elaborate, "Traditional Chinese medicine focuses on the eight-principle syndrome differentiation. For lung diseases alone, there are three types of excess syndromes in traditional Chinese medicine: phlegm-damp, phlegm-heat, and phlegm-cold. So, without clear differentiation, you cannot prescribe medicine arbitrarily."
Wu Buwei scratched his head, recalling what he had learned from his books, and asked, "Senior Brother, for treatment, is it better to use Western medicine or Chinese herbal medicine? Can the two be combined?"
Du Heng squinted, his mind sifting through his knowledge and experience. "Absolutely not. The two types of medicine stem from different philosophies; they're fundamentally incompatible. You either use Western medicine or Chinese herbal medicine; never mix them. If no problems arise, then all is well. But if a problem does occur, you won't be able to pinpoint the cause. That not only increases the danger and difficulty for yourself but also subjects the patient to unnecessary suffering and harm."