A romantic disaster has consequences, and Evan’s year of study is almost over.
Evan Xu had overlooked one thing. In this era, the cheesy romantic lines from his own time had devastating power. Every one of them sounded like the sweetest declaration of love.
But people in this era were far too proper. Say something like that to a female comrade, and it would be a miracle if she didn't report you for indecent behavior.[1]
So that was that. Oliver Liu got taken in.
Luckily, it was the hospital's security office, not the police station. That would have been much more trouble.
Evan couldn't think of a way out. In the end, he had to ask Dr. Qian to intervene before the matter was settled and the security office let Oliver go.
Oliver was loyal, though. He never let slip that Evan had taught him those indecent lines.
Dr. Qian gave Oliver another fierce scolding, and news of his heroic exploits spread throughout the hospital.
After that fiasco, Oliver took a hard look at himself and finally settled down to study. A top student was a top student. He had only been falling behind because he was fooling around. Once he applied himself, he put everyone else in their place.
He improved at an astonishing rate and shot past Evan. He really was the Professor Oliver Liu who would one day be famous throughout the country.
Evan wasn't about to fall behind. He worked even harder.
Each pushed to outdo the other.
Everyone at Xiyuan Hospital now knew there were two medical fanatics in Chinese medicine gynecology: Evan Xu and Oliver Liu.
For Evan, there was nothing better than studying like this. But time always passed too quickly. Before he knew it, the year was up.
Evan lay in his dormitory bed with his eyes closed, watching the countdown in his mind…
Suddenly, he was afraid.
Oliver was in the bunk above him. He closed his medical book and leaned his head over the edge.
“Hey, Evan,” he asked worriedly. “Now everyone knows about that mess I got into. What if I never find anyone to marry?”
Evan opened his eyes. “When I get back, I'll go online and look up who your wife is.”
Oliver was baffled. “What's online?”
“I'll tell you when I come back next time.”
If there is a next time… Evan added silently, then closed his eyes again.
He opened his eyes.
Daylight.
His own little room again.
For a moment, Evan couldn't adjust. That year in 1978 collided with the present, leaving him bewildered.
“Was I dreaming?”
He remained dazed for a long time, recalling the details of his life at Xiyuan Hospital. Every one of them was clear. Only then did he slowly come back to himself.
Evan breathed out slowly and shook his head. He closed his eyes again, only to find that the system had changed.
Chinese Medicine Inheritance System
Inheritor: Evan Xu
Age: 28
Medical skill level:
Overall: Junior Physician
Gynecology: Physician
Medical ethics rating: Excellent
The system divided medical skill into six ranks: Apprentice, Junior Physician, Physician, Accomplished Physician, Healer Serving the People, Nationally Eminent Physician, and Physician of the Highest National Standing.[2]
What did the Physician rank mean in practice? Roughly the ability of an expert at county level. An Accomplished Physician could hold his own against an experienced city-level specialist in Chinese medicine gynecology.
A Healer Serving the People was a leading provincial expert. A Nationally Eminent Physician was a leading national expert. As for Physicians of the Highest National Standing, every one of them was at the very top of Chinese medicine. You could count them on your fingers.
Professor Oliver Liu, back in Evan's own time, was a renowned specialist in Chinese medicine gynecology at that highest rank.
Evan's spirits rose. Yesterday, he had still been an apprentice who didn't know how to treat patients. Just one night later, he was a county-level expert in Chinese medicine!
“County-level” was only an approximation, not a reference to one particular county. In Evan's own county, few Chinese medicine doctors could actually treat illness. When it came to women's disorders, Evan could probably outclass every Chinese medicine doctor in the county. There were still a few experts in the city, though.
At the bottom of the system page was another progress bar.
Loading second clinical mentorship module…
Estimated loading time: ten years.
Evan was stunned. The swear words came out before he could stop them.
“Shit! Ten years? I have to wait ten damn years?”
His face went white.
“You're definitely not running on Android. Not at this speed! Did Internet Explorer make you or something?”
The system gave no response.
Evan's chest rose and fell. He had thought he finally had a chance to change his life, and now he had to wait ten damn years?
Who could put up with that?
He thought for a moment, then asked cautiously, “System, I have a Xunlei Platinum membership. Can that speed you up?”
No response.
“Actually, I'm a QQ member too! How about a Weibo membership? An 88VIP membership? A massage-parlor membership? I don't have one, but I could get one!”[3]
Still no response.
Evan was going crazy. “Hey! Is there any way to speed this up? I can't really wait ten years!”
A rapid ticking…
At last, the system responded.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Inheritor, please promote Chinese medicine across major platforms. Acceleration bonuses will be awarded according to the effectiveness of your publicity.
“According to its effectiveness?” Evan paused. “So it's just ‘We reserve the right to interpret these terms’! Damn. Has this lousy system gotten smarter?”
He thought for a moment, took out his phone, and tried posting on Weibo.
Chinese medicine kicks ass!
The post had two views almost as soon as it went up.
Ding… Acceleration bonus received.
Evan breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Good. I thought you'd gotten smarter.”
He quickly claimed the bonus and tapped to use it.
Congratulations! Loading time reduced by two seconds.
Evan rolled his eyes and nearly passed out with anger.
Clara Zhang had arrived early that morning, with plenty on her mind. The clinic really wasn't doing well. Its only two practitioners were Ben Song and Evan Xu.
Ben could do a bit of everything: tuina massage, acupuncture, moxibustion, fire cupping. Whoever came in got the whole routine, and they did leave feeling comfortable all over.[4]
So Ben had a group of regular clients. Tired after a day at work, they came to him for a massage. It wasn't expensive, after all.
A perfectly good Chinese medicine clinic had been turned into something like a wellness spa.
Of course, massage and acupuncture could also treat illness. Ben just didn't know how to use them that way!
That was the situation in many small private Chinese medicine clinics. Their practitioners couldn't treat illness, and nobody believed they could. With no other way to make money, all they could do was turn themselves into wellness spas.
As for Evan… Clara frowned deeply.
He really couldn't treat illness, had no clients, and couldn't even sell people a line.
Zero for three…
Evan soon arrived at the clinic too. He saw Clara as soon as he came through the door and felt disoriented for a moment.
Ben arrived as well. The moment he got there, he turned on the computer and lost himself in Happy Dou Dizhu.[5]
The clinic had no business anyway. On an ordinary day, Ben played cards, Evan read medical books, and Clara played with her phone.
Today, though, Evan wasn't reading and Clara wasn't playing with her phone. Only Ben was playing cards as usual.
Evan picked up his phone. Unwilling to give up, he posted on Weibo again.
Chinese medicine still kicks ass!
Ding. Acceleration bonus received.
He opened it. Damn it, still only one second![6]
Were his posts doing that badly?
How was he supposed to promote it? Text or video?
His head was spinning. He didn't know how to do this!
Should he pay to get onto the trending-search list? How much would that cost?[7]
Poverty was keeping him from becoming a great physician.
Evan tapped his aching head, then rubbed the tight, aching area along his chest and ribs. His Liver qi constraint and stagnation was getting worse.[8]
He spent a good while looking into it, without coming up with anything.
Clara left the two men a few instructions, then went home to help her father take his medicine. Only Evan and Ben were left at the clinic.
After a while, Evan shook his head and put the jumble of thoughts aside for now. He opened the patient records, found the number for yesterday's patient, Lily Li, paused, and called her.
“Hello, is this Ms. Lily Li? Oh, it's me, Dr. Evan Xu from Mingxin Clinic. Yes, we met yesterday. I was just… do you have time to come back to the clinic? Yes, I'd like to check your pulse again. All right, you'll come right away? Good.”
Lily arrived quickly. She worked nearby. When she came in, her brows were knitted and her abdomen had already started hurting.
“Dr. Xu.” She greeted the handsome, melancholy young man with a smile.
“Comrade Li, sit down.” Evan invited her to sit. With a patient here, he put all the confused thoughts out of his head. He still had that much professionalism.[1]
Lily stared. “Comrade?”
Evan quickly corrected himself. “Uh… Ms. Li. Have a glass of water and rest a little. I'll check your pulse in a moment.”
“Okay,” Lily said.
Translator's Notes
Reader Notes
↩︎ Comrade. Tongzhi retains the respectful period address used in the historical chapters. It can address a woman as readily as a man. Its formal, collective tone differs from an ordinary present-day “Ms.” or “Mr.”; it does not by itself identify someone's political affiliation. Source: Laishan District Government — Social forms of address (in Chinese). ↩︎
↩︎ The system's ranks. These are the novel's assessments of ability. They do not award a license, a hospital appointment, or an official honor. Some names borrow older medical language: xinglin, “the apricot grove,” is a traditional name for the medical profession, while xuanhu jishi evokes a physician serving people through healing. “Accomplished Physician” and “Healer Serving the People” render those expressions here. The county, city, province, and national comparisons describe the scale of expertise within the story. The Chinese text says “six” but lists seven names; both have been retained. Sources: Henan University of Chinese Medicine — The apricot-grove allusion (in Chinese); Henan University of Chinese Medicine — Xuanhu jishi (in Chinese).
↩︎ Paid memberships. Xunlei is download software whose premium subscriptions offer faster data transmission, which gives Evan's first suggestion its particular logic. QQ is a messaging and social platform; Weibo is a public social-media platform with paid account features. 88VIP is Alibaba's membership program combining shopping, entertainment, and other service benefits. Evan keeps naming unrelated memberships as though any paid privilege might accelerate the system. The joke depends on confusing commercial perks with the fictional loading timer. These product references describe the cultural setting; the passage does not establish a working connection between any service and the system. Sources: Xunlei — 2023 annual report, “Subscription services”; Tencent — QQ; Weibo — 2017 annual report, “Individual Page”; Alibaba — Introducing 88VIP.
↩︎ The clinic's treatment methods. Tuina is a form of therapeutic massage using manual techniques. Acupuncture uses needles; moxibustion supplies heat from smoldering moxa, traditionally made from mugwort. Cupping uses suction under cups; in fire cupping, a flame is used in preparing that suction. The methods are distinct, even though the Chinese word zhenjiu often groups acupuncture and moxibustion together. Since this passage separately lists moxibustion, the translation keeps the four methods separate. The account of Ben's routine and his clients' comfort belongs to the story; these definitions do not establish what he can successfully treat. Sources: Hong Kong Health Bureau — Chinese medicine interventions; NCCIH — Cupping; WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entries 3138–3142, printed p. 420.
↩︎ Dou Dizhu. The name means “Fight the Landlord.” In the standard three-player card game, players bid for the landlord role, which receives three extra cards. The other two players oppose the landlord, and play proceeds by passing or beating the previous play until someone empties their hand. Happy Dou Dizhu is the online game named in the novel. Ben is passing time on the clinic computer; no particular hand, win, loss, or cash stake is described. Source: JJ Games — Dou Dizhu rules (in Chinese).
↩︎ The two bonuses. The first reward reduces the loading time by two seconds. The Chinese text describes this second reward as “still” one second. Both numbers and the inconsistent “still” are retained here; the text supplies no intervening reward that would explain the discrepancy.
↩︎ Trending searches. Weibo's hot-search list displays popular topics based on search activity. The platform also offers paid advertising and promoted topic placements, which are distinct from an ordinary user's post attracting attention. Evan is wondering whether paying for exposure would help him promote Chinese medicine. He has not bought a placement, received a quote, or discovered how the system measures publicity. The two views mentioned earlier are views of a post, not proof of two followers or successful medical treatment. Source: Weibo — 2017 annual report, “Search” and “Promoted Trends”.
↩︎ Liver qi constraint and stagnation. As explained in Chapter 2, this traditional pattern links disturbed qi movement with emotional constraint and chest or rib-area discomfort. The capitalized Liver denotes a functional system in Chinese medicine. Here the narrator uses the pattern to describe Evan's worsening discomfort; it is not a finding of anatomical liver disease or a new psychiatric diagnosis. Source: WHO — Chinese medicine terminology, entry 1240, printed p. 149.