Village Doctor's Women-Chapter 245: make do with what’s available

Lin Shu and Wen Sheng arrived at the clinic, led by Angel. Wen Sheng was dressed in a short-sleeved T-shirt and simple jeans, looking much like an average, unassuming college student. Lin Shu, standing next to him, was a bit different. Not only was he bundled up in a coat, but he also looked as if he were wearing foundation. If not for his white hair, he could have passed for a fair-skinned young actor. Just one day after the TV station finished gathering material and confirmed their participation, the pair had traveled to Shanghai City and headed straight for Paigou Village.

When Angel, who was in charge, brought the two men before Wang Jian, he looked perplexed. "Wait, aren’t you just shooting a documentary? Why are celebrities involved?"

Wang Jian had specifically pulled Angel aside to ask this, but he didn’t lower his voice much. Lin Shu and Wen Sheng, who were standing nearby, heard him loud and clear. When he was a doctor in Capital City, his hospital had treated celebrities before. He had learned one thing from the experience: no matter the time or place, whenever celebrities were involved, things became very troublesome. Extremely troublesome. It didn’t just cause trouble for the hospital; it gave the doctors headaches, too. A single mistake could lead to being flamed online.

Thus, Wang Jian’s face was a mask of refusal. He would rather use the time to go home and enjoy a quiet evening with his sister-in-law.

"Calm down, calm down," Angel said, noticing the embarrassed looks on Lin Shu and Wen Sheng’s faces. It was truly the first time they had met someone so openly dismissive of celebrities.

Angel quickly explained their situation. "One is a behind-the-scenes guy with little public exposure, and the other is a washed-up idol. They’re not going to attract much fan attention."

Angel hadn’t lowered her voice much, so Wen Sheng and Lin Shu, who were already paying attention to her and Wang Jian, naturally heard every word. If Angel hadn’t been from the TV station, they might have stormed off right then and there. But what she said was the truth. Besides, both of them were pragmatic.

So, the two of them reached a tacit understanding. They acted as if they hadn’t heard a thing, looking up at the sky and pointedly ignoring what Angel and Wang Jian were discussing.

Wang Jian noticed their reaction and nodded. "So, do they need my cooperation for anything?" He could see that these two weren’t some arrogant, entitled celebrities and that they understood their own place, so his resistance softened.

Angel shook her head. "You don’t need to cooperate with them. They’re just here to observe the documentary filming and then write and record a song." She then leaned in and whispered in Wang Jian’s ear, "Actually, they didn’t have to come. But the station is taking this special feature very seriously, so they sent them over to experience it firsthand. They thought it might give them some inspiration."

The sensation in his ear was ticklish, and Wang Jian tried to pull his head away, but Angel held him firmly in place. He couldn’t escape, even as her warm breath ghosted across his cheek. Angel didn’t let go until she had finished speaking.

Wang Jian rubbed his ear and gave Angel a strange look. Seeing no particular expression on her face, he relaxed and turned to leave. But just as he turned, his gaze suddenly locked onto Lin Shu and Wen Sheng.

"Mr. Lin, could you please come over here?"

Wang Jian pointed at Lin Shu. The moment Lin Shu had walked in, Wang Jian had noticed something was off. It wasn’t about him as a person, but about the qi in his body—it was a chaotic mess. The clinic was empty of patients, and he was idle anyway. Since he had seen it, he figured he might as well say something.

Lin Shu was considerably older than Wang Jian, and the hair at his temples had already turned white. "Doctor Wang, what can I do for you?" As soon as Lin Shu sat down, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

From the practiced motion, it was clear he was a heavy smoker. Wang Jian quickly coughed to get his attention. "Mr. Lin, this is a clinic. Even though it isn’t a hospital, smoking is still prohibited." He even pointed to a no-smoking sign posted by the entrance.

Li Dayu had helped put that up. When he learned that Wang Jian wanted a no-smoking rule, Li Dayu took the initiative to make the sign. He even made the area around the village committee a no-smoking zone. After all, this was a village, and the villagers didn’t have many hobbies beyond smoking and drinking, so Li Dayu decided to nip the problem in the bud. Smoking wasn’t just prohibited inside the clinic; it was also banned for those waiting in line outside.

"Sorry, occupational hazard," Lin Shu said sheepishly. "I’m just used to it. What was it you needed me for, Doctor Wang?"

Wang Jian didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed to Lin Shu’s left arm, pushed a small, soft cushion toward him, and said, "Your left wrist. I’m going to take your pulse."

"Take my pulse?" Lin Shu didn’t move. He didn’t understand what Wang Jian was getting at. He was here to write a song, not to see a doctor. Why the sudden request to take his pulse?

Wang Jian finally explained, "When I first saw you, Mr. Lin, I noticed your complexion wasn’t good. As you know, Chinese medicine focuses on the four diagnostic methods: looking, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking. Since I suspect there’s a problem, it’s only natural that I’d want to take your pulse to get a clearer picture."

Seeing Lin Shu’s reluctance, which was clearly born of distrust for a mere village doctor, Wang Jian wasn’t fazed. He said calmly, "Mr. Lin, you came here for inspiration, didn’t you? Since you’re here for the experience, why not experience this too? Just think of it as a check-up. It’s not a bad thing, so why the resistance?"

Lin Shu paused. He had indeed been hesitant, but after hearing what Wang Jian said, he had to admit it made a lot of sense. Whether he was sick or not, he had nothing to lose. With that thought in mind, Lin Shu promptly rolled up his sleeve and placed his arm on the cushion.

Wang Jian, however, pulled the sleeve back down before placing his fingers on Lin Shu’s wrist. "The pulse reading won’t be accurate if the sleeve is constricting your arm... Is it all right if I ask you a few questions?"

"Please, go ahead," Lin Shu replied, his mindset adjusted.

"Have you been feeling any tightness in your chest lately?"

"Um..." Lin Shu paused. Chest tightness? He had, in fact. Lately, he hadn’t just felt tightness in his chest; he had also been unusually tired and found himself dozing off easily. He used to be the kind of person who could pull all-nighters working on a song. As long as he had cigarettes, he could go two nights straight without feeling sleepy.

Seeing the look on Lin Shu’s face, Wang Jian knew he had his answer and continued, "Have you been having headaches?"

"Ah?" This time, Lin Shu was genuinely shocked. The headaches had only started recently.

Lin Shu murmured, "How did you know I’ve been having headaches, Doctor Wang?" He hadn’t even told his wife about it. How could Wang Jian possibly know?

"How do I know?" Wang Jian glanced at him. "The moment you walked in, I saw your complexion was much paler than normal. Your physical state wasn’t good, and the qi inside you was in disarray. That’s why I wanted to take your pulse and see what was causing it."

So he knew just by looking and feeling my pulse, huh.

Lin Shu fell silent, waiting for Wang Jian’s next question. But as he waited, Wang Jian just kept his brow furrowed, his fingers on the pulse, occasionally letting his gaze sweep over Lin Shu’s entire body. The only thing Lin Shu felt was a steady warmth spreading from his wrist. A minute or two was fine, but Wang Jian’s continued silence and deep frown made Lin Shu anxious. He began to imagine the worst. "Doctor Wang," he asked hurriedly, "do I have some terrible disease? Am I a goner?"

Wang Jian glanced at him but still didn’t speak. He just lowered his head, his brow still furrowed, as he continued using his own qi to sort out the tangled mess of energy within Lin Shu’s body.

His silence seemed to confirm Lin Shu’s worst fears. Lin Shu’s heart skipped a beat, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "Uh... Doctor... Wang, if you have something to say, just say it. I can take it."

Wang Jian’s reaction didn’t just rattle Lin Shu; it left Angel and Wen Sheng stunned as well. Angel was well aware of Wang Jian’s abilities. It was no exaggeration to say he could diagnose life and death with a single glance. Any condition Wang Jian identified was never wrong. If Wang Jian were to say Lin Shu was a goner, then he was definitely a goner.

Wen Sheng even whispered, "Producer Angel, is Brother Lin actually sick?" He wanted to be skeptical but didn’t dare, so all he could do was ask.

Angel glanced at Wen Sheng before her eyes darted back to Wang Jian and Lin Shu. She whispered back, "If Doctor Wang is the one saying it, then it’s almost certainly true. I’ve been filming here for the better part of a month, and every single diagnosis he’s made has been correct. Whether it’s a major illness or a minor ailment, once he speaks, it’s as good as an iron-clad verdict on life and death. He’s never wrong."

Yikes... Wen Sheng’s mouth fell open. He looked at Lin Shu’s back, then at the frowning, focused Wang Jian, and didn’t dare say another word. He was afraid Wang Jian might suddenly call him over next.

Fortunately, their worrying didn’t last long. Wang Jian finally raised his head, his tightly furrowed brow relaxing.

"All done," Wang Jian said simply.

Lin Shu, Angel, and Wen Sheng were stunned. "What’s all done?"

"Your ailment."

"Huh?" Lin Shu asked, confused. "What ailment? How did it suddenly get better?"

"Don’t be so quick with the questions. Just focus on how you feel," Wang Jian said, pointing to Lin Shu’s chest. "The tightness in your chest and the headache should both be gone."

Skeptical, Lin Shu touched his chest and took a few deep breaths. He was surprised by how smooth and easy it felt. He wondered if it was just his imagination... "It really does feel different," Lin Shu said in a low voice. "My body feels much lighter, and my breathing is completely clear... I also feel kind of warm."

As he spoke, he took off his coat. His complexion was already much rosier than when he had first arrived. Wen Sheng and Angel noticed it too. They had initially assumed Lin Shu was wearing foundation, since it’s common for men in the entertainment industry to wear makeup. Only now did they realize it wasn’t makeup at all—his complexion had simply been deathly pale.

As if on cue, Wang Jian explained, "You should consider yourself lucky. For someone who constantly pulls all-nighters and barely exercises, you got off with minor issues like stagnant qi and chest congestion. If it were anyone else, they might have already died from sudden cardiac arrest."

Seeing their confused expressions, Wang Jian switched to a simpler explanation. "When people who often stay up late don’t feel sleepy, it’s not because they have a lot of energy. It’s because their bodies are producing excess adrenaline, artificially forcing them into a state of excitement. While this keeps you awake, it also causes your blood vessels to constrict and can even make the vessel walls thinner, increasing the risk of an aneurysm or sudden death. You also smoke frequently, so your lungs were already in a diseased, damaged state. Your habit of pulling all-nighters just meant the problems appeared in your lungs first."

As he spoke, Wang Jian glanced at Lin Shu, who had taken off his coat, and noted his skinny arms. "You’re too thin. If I hadn’t cleared up the stagnant qi in your chest today, you might have ended up with a pneumothorax."

Lin Shu felt a wave of delayed fear. He then remembered the warm current he had felt earlier. "Doctor Wang, were you frowning the whole time because of this?"

Wang Jian shook his head. "Not exactly. I was regulating your qi. Did you feel a warm current?"

Lin Shu nodded. "That was...?"

Wang Jian smiled but didn’t explain. With a wave of his hand, a golden fountain pen clipped to Lin Shu’s shirt pocket flew through the air and into his palm.

"HOLY SHIT!?"