CHAPTER 365: 341 DISTANT ATTENTION

The young man on the video call paused, looking incredulously at Zhu Minyan, who was tightly wrapped up.

If this girl wasn’t such a good student, winning scholarships every semester, and if he wasn’t familiar enough with her to recognize her voice, he would have thought he’d contacted the wrong person. Why would she refuse? To come to the Capital, where there are experts, experts with experience treating tumors? How could she refuse?

"Why not come? Is it because of money? Don’t worry about that. I used my connections to find Director Lan; it’s free of charge. As for the treatment costs, the school’s medical insurance and subsidies will cover most of it. You won’t have to spend much."

Zhu Minyan shook her head. Before she could speak, the young man on the other end grew anxious. "Well, tell me then, why?"

"Mr. Zhang, I’m already undergoing treatment, and the results are very good. I want to continue with it."

"Treatment? Have you started chemotherapy? Oh, no! Director Lan said he can’t help if you’ve already started chemotherapy. How could you be so impulsive?"

"No, Mr. Zhang, I’m currently receiving traditional Chinese medicine treatment. It’s been three days, and the hard lumps on my body have already softened. I believe Doctor Du can cure me."

"Traditional Chinese medicine? Doctor Du? Is he an expert from Jinzhou? I’ll have Director Lan contact him so they can look at your case together."

Zhu Minyan shook her head again. "Doctor Du is the Dean of our local Health Clinic. He’s very young; I guess he’s only about thirty."

"Thirty years old? You can’t be serious..."

"Mr. Zhang, I have to go. It’s time for my medicine. Thank you."

With that, she quickly hung up. Seeing Wu Buwei enter with her medicine, she promptly removed the gauze scarf from her face.

Wu Buwei smiled at her. "Who were you talking to? Aren’t you afraid of overheating, all bundled up like that?" When she removed the scarf, revealing the patches of vitiligo on her face again, Wu Buwei comforted her, "Don’t worry. Our Dean can cure your tumor. Treating this minor vitiligo on your face will be a piece of cake for him."

Zhu Minyan took the medicine from Wu Buwei. "Can’t we treat this vitiligo first?"

Wu Buwei shook his head, amused. It seems that for girls, as long as an illness isn’t immediately life-threatening, appearance is always the top concern. Beauty comes first.

He then explained with a smile, "Given your current condition, treating the tumor is definitely the priority. The tumor is threatening your life; the vitiligo on your face isn’t."

"Can’t they be treated at the same time?"

"No. They’re two different illnesses requiring different medications. Mixing them could lead to dangerous interactions. Alright, drink your medicine. After you’re done, I have a few things to tell you."

Zhu Minyan stopped asking questions and began to drink her medicine.

She had no idea that after she’d hung up, miles away on the Qingbei University Campus, her teacher, Mr. Zhang, was practically hopping mad.

If it weren’t for so many students milling about, he would have loved to scream at the top of his lungs to vent his frustration. In just one week, he’d helped her apply for a leave of absence according to policy, rushed to apply for subsidies, and finally, after much begging and pleading, managed to secure Expert Lan. But in the end, the very person he had worked so hard for was now seeing a doctor at a Health Clinic in some obscure little corner of Jinzhou. What in the world was happening?

His enthusiasm crushed, the young Mr. Zhang returned home disheartened and, pulling the covers over his head, went to sleep.

He just couldn’t understand it. Why would Zhu Minyan choose to get treatment in Jinzhou, a city barely on the cusp of being second-tier, instead of coming to the Capital? What was so great about that Doctor Du that this girl would choose him over experts in the Capital? And he was a thirty-year-old traditional Chinese medicine practitioner! Why? On what grounds? He couldn’t figure it out. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t understand.

At noon, the young Mr. Zhang was drooling all over the sofa in his sleep.

Just then, an elderly man with a full head of silver hair and crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes walked in. Seeing his grandson asleep on the sofa, he walked over and couldn’t resist giving him a kick on the butt.

"NGH..." The handsome young Mr. Zhang groggily opened his eyes.

He’d been thinking so hard about the issue that morning, racking his brains without figuring anything out, but he had successfully managed to put himself to sleep.

"Grandpa, you’re back!" Mr. Zhang rubbed his kicked butt and sat up from the sofa. "What time is it, Grandpa?"

The old man glared at the young man on the sofa and slowly sat down beside him. "Xintian, you said your student was coming. I’ve been waiting all morning. I haven’t seen this malignant lymphoma case you mentioned, and neither have you. Is it fun to trick your grandpa?"

Zhang Xintian shook his muddled head and said dejectedly, "My student isn’t coming. She’s decided to get treatment in Jinzhou."

"Jinzhou? Didn’t you tell her to come to the Capital?"

"I did. I even mentioned your esteemed name, Grandpa. But the girl still won’t come."

The old man chuckled. "I never thought the day would come when my name, Lan Changhua, would be ineffective. Ah, I’m getting old."

Zhang Xintian scooted closer to the old man. "I’m sorry, Grandpa. I’ve delayed your work." His voice was full of apology.

Lan Changhua was his grandfather, true, but he was also a leading figure in the national Chinese medicine field. Even at seventy, his work schedule was more packed than those of younger people like himself. Grandpa was originally supposed to go to Nantanzi Hospital in the South today for some exchange conference where he was a keynote speaker. But because he, Xintian, had asked, Grandpa had postponed his trip by a day. And now, he’d messed it all up.

The old man, however, smiled dismissively. "It’s fine. Today is just for some casual eating and drinking. The formal meeting isn’t until tomorrow. Consider today a day off."

He pushed away Zhang Xintian, who had leaned in close. "Don’t be so clingy. Sit further away."

Once Zhang Xintian had reluctantly moved two seats away, Lan Changhua spoke again. "That student of yours is also a medical student, right? Even if she’s not in the same major, she should have heard of my Lycopus Decoction at our school. So, tell me, how did she refuse me?"

Zhang Xintian sighed, leaned back fully against the sofa, and sprawled out. "She said she has already started treatment."

Lan Changhua sighed softly.

It seems it’s the same old story; she’s probably started Western medicine, chemotherapy. Traditional Chinese medicine is on the decline. Nowadays, people’s first instinct when they get sick is to see a Western doctor. Only when Western medicine has run its course and offered no more solutions do they turn to us TCM practitioners. Even though I’m now an expert receiving a state stipend, I still can’t change this reality.

Zhang Xintian didn’t notice his grandfather’s expression. He was staring blankly at the ceiling, still unable to comprehend why Zhu Minyan would refuse his help.

"My student said... she’s started treatment with a TCM doctor at their town’s Health Clinic."

Zhang Xintian abruptly sat bolt upright. "She said it’s a thirty-year-old TCM doctor? Isn’t that a joke? Thirty years old! Does he even know pulse diagnosis? Can he write prescriptions? And he dares to treat malignant lymphoma? Who gave him the nerve?"

When Lan Changhua heard it was traditional Chinese medicine, he looked slightly surprised. "Then your student must have chosen this doctor for other reasons, surely? Otherwise, I believe she wouldn’t refuse to come to the Capital."

"She said the lumps on her body have softened, so she wants to continue the treatment and isn’t coming." Zhang Xintian sagged, slumping back onto the sofa again.

But Lan Changhua seemed to pick up on something significant. After a moment’s thought, he said quickly, "Get me your student’s case materials. Hurry."

Zhang Xintian gave his grandfather a puzzled look, not understanding what he was planning.

Lan Changhua glared. "What are you looking at? I told you to study clinical medicine, but you insisted on public health. See? Now you don’t understand anything! Go get them for me!"

Zhang Xintian hurriedly stood up, wondering why his grandfather had suddenly lost his temper.

Lan Changhua flipped through the inspection sheets and other documents in his hand. After a long moment, he looked up at Zhang Xintian. "Are you sure there are no mistakes in these?"

Zhang Xintian spread his hands. "I got them from Mr. Li. He pulled them from his consultation records for me. I’ve checked them repeatedly; there can’t be any mistake."

He then leaned closer, glanced at the inspection sheets himself, and asked, puzzled, "Grandpa, is there a problem?"

Lan Changhua shot his grandson another glare. "A problem? It’s a huge problem!"

Pointing to the sheet in his hand, he said, "Look at this record: ’Masses hard, immobile upon palpation.’ This was from the Friday before last. Now, the masses have softened. Do you realize what that signifies?"

"What?"

Lan Changhua gave his grandson an exasperated look. "It means the tumor-reducing treatment is working! The therapy is effective!"

Zhang Xintian stared at Lan Changhua incredulously. "Grandpa, are you saying that TCM doctor’s treatment is actually correct? That’s impossible, isn’t it? He’s only thirty; he’s practically still wet behind the ears!"

"Talent isn’t determined by age alone." A faint sense of joy welled up in Lan Changhua’s heart, though he himself didn’t know its source.

"Maybe he just got lucky with a wild guess?" Zhang Xintian still couldn’t believe that a thirty-year-old from some small town could treat a tumor.

Lan Changhua let out a long breath and looked at Zhang Xintian seriously. "Xintian, do Grandpa a favor."

"Anything, Grandpa. Just ask."

"Stay in daily contact with this student of yours. Ask about the changes in her condition. If you can get her treatment records, that would be ideal."

Zhang Xintian looked at his grandfather, a little surprised. "Grandpa, what are you planning?"

"Let’s just observe for now. Perhaps there’ll be an unexpected discovery."

Seeing his grandfather wasn’t joking, Zhang Xintian promised.

Besides, even if Grandpa hadn’t asked, he would have contacted his student daily anyway. He had little hope of becoming a great doctor who saved lives in this lifetime. But being a teacher with students far and wide, respected by many—that was a good alternative. Moreover, Zhu Minyan was an outstanding student in his class, even at a place like Qingbei University, teeming with talent. He definitely needed to keep a close eye on her.

"Alright then." Zhang Xintian promised, then quickly asked, "So, how should I update you? Call you daily, or wait until you’re back and tell you everything at once?"

Lan Changhua thought for a moment. "Call me in the evenings."

Zhang Xintian said, "Oh. Grandpa, honestly! You’ve been retired for so many years. Why are you still running off to meetings every day? Is there no one else left in traditional Chinese medicine? Making an old man like you rush about all the time. You should be at home resting, enjoying your golden years."

Hearing this, Lan Changhua sighed. He didn’t want to be rushing around either. But traditional Chinese medicine truly was lacking successors, and he hadn’t been able to find anyone to take his place.