Shen Jiang, who had just relaxed through casual conversation, pressed her lips together and her expression instantly turned serious.
Her face grew unusually stern as she stared directly at the girl before her, enunciating each word clearly: “Can you guarantee you won’t maliciously edit the footage for clicks?”
Zining was startled by her sudden intensity and nodded unconsciously, “Of course.”
But feeling this wasn’t sufficient, she took out her student ID from her bag with a serious expression: “This is my student ID, you can take a photo of it. I can even write you a pledge, promising to faithfully edit today’s interview footage. How about this – I’ll let you review the video before I publish it, and only release it after you approve.”
Behind the phone, Chen Quan wore a disapproving expression, but seeing his partner’s earnest demeanor, he opened his mouth only to ultimately remain silent.
Shen Jiang suddenly laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh that left Zining stunned. This was the first time she’d seen this young woman smile since arriving, and her smiling face was truly adorable.
So pinchable.
Though Shen Jiang had been feeling down due to her morning dream, she now found herself healed by Zining’s warmth. Despite the girl’s mature appearance, only an innocent college student would put themselves in a vulnerable position just to reassure others.
Shen Jiang didn’t make her write the pledge, but did photograph her student ID. Once bitten, twice shy – having dreamed of such a tragic ending for herself, she couldn’t feel secure without taking precautions.
Now, she could give these two youngsters a big gift.
“The man who hurt my grandma is named Shan Guosheng. His father did come here for treatment. The police have already arrested him, and I can tell you everything I know.”
Zining was shocked that she would bring up this topic so directly. But when had the police caught him? Netizens had been speculating that the medical troublemaker hadn’t been apprehended after all this time and might have even fled abroad.
Shen Jiang continued dropping bombshells: “All patient consultation records from that day are documented here. Take a look.”
Zining watched her retrieve a thick notebook from the desk, its cover wrapped in cloth with quite an antique charm.
Zining was completely baffled, utterly unable to understand this young woman’s approach. Letting them directly film medical records meant subjecting everything to the judgment of all video viewers – this was incredibly bold.
After all, the internet could infinitely amplify certain things. You might think you’re venting legitimate grievances online, only to find netizens not only lacking sympathy but criticizing you instead – a classic case of hanging yourself.
Chen Quan also couldn’t comprehend why Shen Jiang would do this, but he knew this would definitely be the highlight of their interview. Those influencers who caused scenes at hospitals for videos became popular – their footage might even make the front page.
Without another word, he immediately moved his phone closer to the medical records, adding a camera movement that panned from beside Zining directly to the medical documents.
Though Chen Quan couldn’t understand the professional terminology, he spotted that remark in the notes. His eyes lit up as he quickly zoomed in for a close-up of those words.
Zining also noticed it and exclaimed in pleasant surprise, “The patient’s medicine wasn’t prepared here! So if the patient’s health deteriorated, perhaps they sought another doctor outside and got different prescriptions.”
She had thought as much—with so many commendatory banners here, the doctor couldn’t possibly be a quack.
Chen Quan poured cold water on the idea: “But we can’t tell when this was written, so it doesn’t count as evidence.”
Shen Jiang said, “I have a habit of saving medical records daily. These are for your convenience—the computer also has the files from that day.”
Zining and Chen Quan exchanged surprised glances: Oh ho, they had really come at the right time today!
Zining steered the conversation: “So it seems this patient’s issue might not be related to your grandma after all.”
Shen Jiang neither nodded nor shook her head. “The patient and their family insist it was due to the prescription my grandma gave, so we’re not considering the possibility of them seeking another doctor for now. Here, can you understand this medical record?”
Zining was honest: “Sis, we’re just TCM enthusiasts. Such a complex medical record is truly beyond us—please just explain it directly.”
Shen Jiang began explaining what True Cold False Heat Syndrome meant.
Zining felt her head spinning—TCM theory was too complicated for her, with its classical Chinese-like terms growing more obscure by the minute. Phrases like “Pulse Hidden Below” stumped even an enthusiast like her, let alone ordinary netizens.
How could symptoms of bodily cold transform into heat syndrome? She couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Zining asked, “Could we explain this in simpler terms? Many netizens might be new to TCM and won’t understand such complex theoretical knowledge.”
Chen Quan snorted with laughter, clearly catching Zining’s subtext: she didn’t get it.
Zining turned to glare at him: And you think you do?
Noticing he was filming with his phone, she quickly retracted her fierce expression and seamlessly switched to a dignified smile.
Chen Quan scratched his head with his other hand—truth was, he hadn’t understood either.
Amused by their interaction, Shen Jiang chuckled along. “It’s normal not to understand. But if any TCM practitioners see your video, they could learn a lot from it—that’s why I elaborated.”
Zining half-understood and decided to keep this celestial-script-like theoretical explanation. Little did she know then how valuable Shen Jiang’s sharing would prove later.
Shen Jiang grinned slyly. “Now, let’s discuss something you can grasp. Internal heat should show two signs: one, the patient’s urine would be very yellow, and two, the patient would dislike drinking hot water.”
Zining grabbed the medical record book, cross-referencing the text, and gasped, “This patient matches exactly! It’s heat syndrome! Your grandma’s diagnosis was correct!”
Heavens, if what this young lady said was true, then this clinic’s doctor was incredibly skilled! Zining’s excitement surged—after the interview, she’d have to ask the young lady to check her pulse.
But something felt off to Zining. “Wait, your grandma’s prescription was correct, and the medicine was prepared elsewhere, so the problem must be with the medicine! How dare they blame your grandma?”
How shameless! Zining suppressed the urge to swear on camera, clenching her fists tightly.
At this point, she couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for the old doctor who had gotten into trouble. The poor elderly man was truly unlucky to encounter such a family—the patient was willful, and the patient’s family members were even more unreasonable, making no distinction between right and wrong.
Shen Jiang thought to herself: He himself was the one selling the medicine, so how could he possibly look for the cause within his own herbs?
If she directly claimed that the herbs Shan Guosheng had given his father were problematic, netizens would never believe it.
She knew from the dream that merely discovering the prescription Shan Gui took was prescribed by Grandma had caused an uproar. If people learned the herbs came from the Shan family’s herbal shop, the reaction would be even more intense than in the dream.
The dream had already shown her the answer—blindly insisting on self-justification was useless.
She had to bide her time and find the most opportune moment to clear Grandma’s name.
The interview was nearly over.
Zining wanted to tell the young woman that even if justice might come late, it would always arrive eventually.
But she ultimately didn’t say it.
Could justice that came late still truly be called justice?
A conflicted expression appeared on Zining’s face, as if she found it difficult to give a positive answer to this question.
Instead, she bossed around her lackey Chen Quan: “Go, take pictures of those glass cabinets that were smashed beyond recognition, and the commendatory plaques on the floor and walls. We’ll edit them all in later.”
Chen Quan actually enjoyed seeing her order him around like this, and without a word, he went to do it.
Looking at Shen Jiang’s soft and sweet appearance, and thinking about how she and her grandmother depended on each other to maintain this clinic, Zining felt a pang of sadness. This older sister seemed so easy to bully, she couldn’t help but want to stand up for her and fight for “justice” on her behalf.
Oh right, she wanted to ask Sister Shen Jiang to check her pulse.
After some thought, Zining didn’t call Chen Quan over, but asked Shen Jiang privately: “Doctor sister, could you take my pulse? I’ve been feeling really unwell lately.”
She spoke in a tone afraid of being overheard, acting furtively—quite out of character with her usual domineering presence.
Shen Jiang didn’t refuse, directly gesturing for her to sit on the other side of the table. She opened a drawer, pulled out a pulse pillow, and indicated for Zining to rest her hand on it. She told Zining she didn’t need to explain her symptoms—she would diagnose through the pulse first.
Zining thought: Wow, Sister Shen Jiang is really challenging herself here.
“What are you two doing?” Chen Quan popped his head from behind. Having finished filming those shots, he turned around and saw them conducting some secret activity behind his back.
Seeing Shen Jiang checking Zining’s pulse, he immediately pointed the camera at them.
Zining felt displeased—this Chen Quan really had no sense of reading the room.
With him filming so directly, young Doctor Shen must be feeling so nervous.
Zining’s original plan was to have Shen Jiang check her pulse first. If it didn’t work, she’d forget about it. If it worked, she’d have Chen Quan refilm the scene later.
As long as Doctor Shen had real skill, it shouldn’t matter whether they reenacted the scene specifically for the camera—after all, she wouldn’t be deceiving anyone.
Zining meant well—Shen Jiang’s appearance was simply too youthful. Especially with her cute baby face, it was hard for people to believe at first glance that she was a highly skilled TCM practitioner.
Old TCM doctors, old TCM doctors—the older they are, the more trusted they become.
Zining was determined to help Mingxintang, as her heart had completely sided with Shen Jiang and her grandmother. Especially after learning that Shen Jiang’s grandmother remained unconscious in the ICU, and seeing the clinic in such disarray, Zining genuinely sympathized with the plight of the grandmother and granddaughter.
She would truthfully publish what Shen Jiang had said online. Although one segment was too obscure and difficult to understand, professional TCM practitioners would grasp it. Moreover, the latter part of Shen Jiang’s explanation was straightforward enough for even a child to comprehend.
If Shen Jiang could cure the illness that had troubled her for so long, wouldn’t that precisely demonstrate the exceptional medical skills of Mingxintang’s doctors?
Chen Quan had no inkling of her private calculations, as he still had more to say.
Raising the exquisitely designed invitation he had just retrieved from a corner, Chen Quan asked eagerly, “Doctor Shen, were you also invited to the city’s Dragon Boat Festival TCM Free Clinic event? Will you be attending? You should keep this invitation safe.”
The Dragon Boat Festival was in early next month, and with it already mid-May, only half a month remained.
Shen Jiang’s gaze swept over the pale, thin invitation, her expression remaining utterly unperturbed. “Don’t disturb me.”
During pulse diagnosis, a physician requires a tranquil environment to concentrate. Chen Quan’s repeated interruptions were affecting her diagnosis of Zining.
Zining thought to herself, “So she is nervous after all.”
She made a decision: later, no matter what Shen Jiang said, as long as it wasn’t too far-fetched, she would claim Shen Jiang’s pulse reading was incredibly accurate.
After all, modern people typically suffer from the same common ailments: spleen deficiency, kidney deficiency, hair loss, insomnia… Surely she could guess a few correctly.
Three minutes passed. Shen Jiang asked Zining to stick out her tongue for inspection. Zining complied, recalling that this usually marked the near end of the diagnostic process with other doctors.
To her surprise, Shen Jiang placed three fingers on her other wrist, lowering her eyes to continue taking the pulse.
Zining began to regret having Shen Jiang examine her. Though Shen Jiang appeared calm outwardly, this repeated pulse-taking surely indicated inadequate skill, didn’t it? While one could give up on the final question in an exam, with Chen Quan’s camera pointed at them, Doctor Shen couldn’t possibly admit incompetence.
Another three minutes passed. Seeing Shen Jiang still hadn’t finished taking the pulse, Zining grew anxious on her behalf. If she didn’t help now, would she just watch the young woman embarrass herself?
Besides, the condition Zining wanted treated today was notoriously difficult to cure anyway.
Just as Zining was about to speak, preparing to list all the symptoms she usually mentioned during TCM consultations,
Shen Jiang bluntly cut her off: “Why has your heartbeat suddenly accelerated? Relax.”
Zining: “…”
Well, wasn’t that supposed to be her line to comfort Shen Jiang? How did it become Shen Jiang comforting her instead? After some thought, she chose to respect Shen Jiang’s wishes and remained silent.
Chen Quan had been filming them with his phone, but with both women quiet and still, holding the phone while staring blankly felt utterly foolish. He eventually set up a tripod to film them slowly and retreated to rest.
The interminable minutes finally ended.
Shen Jiang withdrew her hand and began the inquiry.
Zining secretly breathed a long sigh of relief—it was over at last.
But with each of Shen Jiang’s questions, Zining’s expression gradually turned into a dazed, repetitive nodding. What was going on? Hadn’t Shen Jiang just spent so long diagnosing her because she couldn’t detect the pulse?
Who could tell her why Shen Jiang was able to accurately and flawlessly describe her symptoms?
To be precise, Shen Jiang didn’t directly assert what symptoms she had.
Instead, she asked: “Do you usually suffer from constipation?” “Do you often get acne?” “Do you have painful periods? Is the flow heavy?…” Shen Jiang asked in great detail, some questions so trivial that even Zining herself had overlooked them.
Zining felt like kneeling before her—yes, she had all of those symptoms! How did Doctor Shen manage this? Did she figure all of this out just by checking her pulse earlier?!
When Shen Jiang began the consultation, Chen Quan was sitting by the tripod, watching the scene. Seeing Zining’s expression grow increasingly vacant and foolish, reduced to nothing but nodding, Chen Quan was thoroughly amused, wanting to laugh but not daring to make a sound.
Honestly, the effect was really quite good.
After playing around with self-media for so long, this girl had finally caught on, understanding exactly what kind of reactions would create an impact. With acting skills like hers, anyone watching would have to admit that this doctor had some real talent.
Chen Quan didn’t take Shen Jiang’s words seriously. He thought traditional Chinese medicine was just the same old lines, like astrology—seemingly mysterious, but something most people could relate to, purely a case of a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse. Besides, she was so young, hardly looking like someone who knew how to treat illnesses.
As for Zining, the way she looked at Shen Jiang now was completely different.
Shen Jiang had recounted almost every symptom Zining had ever voluntarily mentioned to a TCM practitioner, down to the smallest details! Some minor points were even more thorough than what Zining herself had described.
Finally, Shen Jiang casually tossed out: “That’s right, you must have symptoms of rhinitis, don’t you?”
It was hard for Zining to describe the shock she felt at that moment—she just wanted to kneel before Shen Jiang.
The ailment tormenting her was indeed rhinitis!
“Doctor Shen, you’re so amazing—you must know how to treat rhinitis, right?” Zining’s eyes sparkled as she stared intently at Shen Jiang.
She had visited many TCM practitioners before, all in hopes of curing the rhinitis that had plagued her for so long. Unfortunately, the prescriptions those doctors wrote were long and complicated, bitter and ineffective—not even as useful as Western medicine. But Western medicine had its limits too, only providing relief in the early stages; afterward, she still had to tough it out on her own.
Because of her rhinitis, Zining was now well-versed in all sorts of nasal sprays, like Budesonide Nasal Spray and Azelastine Hydrochloride Nasal Spray, which were her regular staples. She had even written a post on Xiaohongshu sharing medication tips for rhinitis sufferers, which received a lot of likes.
Shen Jiang: “Your lung qi deficiency is actually just a superficial manifestation; the root cause lies in insufficient vital energy and a weak spleen and stomach. As long as you regulate your spleen and stomach, your rhinitis will gradually improve.”
Zining nodded eagerly. This was the first time since her acne treatment that she had encountered such a skilled TCM practitioner. Now, she was willing to listen to whatever Shen Jiang said.
When she first saw Shen Jiang, she had thought she was just an ordinary, gentle-looking girl. But now, looking at her again, she radiated an aura of transcendent mastery.
Truly, appearances can be deceiving.
Zining suddenly grew curious—where did this sister study for her degree?
Shen Jiang turned and said to Chen Quan, who was watching the show from behind his phone: “Young man, come over here. Let me take a look at you too.”