Compared to the spring-rich south, the northern desert remained desolate. At the high ground of the camp, four or five men were pointing ahead and discussing something when a pigeon came fluttering through the air.

“Master Chang, another letter from your family,” a burly man called out when he saw it.

Chang Yuncheng, wrapped in a dark red cloak and wearing a tiger-and-leopard-patterned military officer’s uniform with a layer of stubble on his chin, stopped talking. His usually composed expression wavered slightly, seeming somewhat anxious.

He apologized and stepped aside a few paces, where an attendant had already taken the message tube from the carrier pigeon and handed it to him.

“What’s with little Chang? Letters from home so frequently?” the people behind asked curiously.

“Mind your own business. You think everyone’s like you, with a heart of stone, abandoning wife and children for four or five years without a care,” someone nearby laughed.

The previous speaker laughed and cursed, then nodded in realization.

“Little Chang has been restless since his last trip home – must have planted a son,” he chuckled. “That’s why he’s both happy and scared when he gets letters. I was the same way when my wife was giving birth.”

As they spoke, they looked toward Chang Yuncheng.

Chang Yuncheng had already opened the letter and was reading. Suddenly his body stiffened, then shook violently, and he couldn’t help but let out a howl, startling the others.

Then they saw Chang Yuncheng clutch the letter tightly and walk away quickly.

“Looks like she gave birth,” everyone laughed.

“And it must be a son,” someone added.

The atmosphere became joyful.

“Come on, come on, extra meal tonight! The commander of Xuanfu just sent good wine – let’s have a proper drink,” the leading man said loudly.

The military also had strict rules, especially during this transition between winter and summer when the eastern barbarians were most likely to attack – drinking was strictly forbidden. These rough men guarding this place had no other entertainment, their greatest pleasure being a good drink. Hearing this, they cheered and all rushed toward the camp.

Chang Yuncheng’s stationed location was a border town called Bao’an Prefecture. Border towns naturally couldn’t compare to the prosperity of the interior – everything visible was dilapidated.

The military camp was beside the prefecture city, while Chang Yuncheng and other officers lived within the city.

When night fell, the atmosphere in the officers’ hall was heated.

The hall was also run-down, with mismatched tables and chairs, but now filled with the aromas of food and wine.

More than ten tables were set up inside and outside, laden with large bowls of meat dishes and large bowls of wine. Everyone ate ravenously and drank until wine spilled all over their bodies.

Though the court didn’t delay military pay, it still couldn’t compare to eating well in the interior. With this rare treat from a superior, everyone ate and drank with abandon.

“Drink, drink! This is a happy occasion – having a son is the happiest thing!” several people surrounded Chang Yuncheng, forcing wine on him.

Chang Yuncheng refused no one, laughing heartily as he drank bowl after bowl, soon becoming unsteady on his feet.

“No son was born,” he said with a laugh.

No birth? Everyone paused, but who cared about that now? Just eat meat and drink wine.

“Then she’s pregnant – she’ll give birth sooner or later,” someone shouted, forcibly raising another bowl of wine.

Chang Yuncheng laughed heartily as he took it and drained it in one gulp. He laughed so hard that tears seemed to come out. Finally, he stumbled and fell face-first onto the table, only laughing but unable to get up.

“Really, how much has he drunk? How did he get so drunk?” everyone clamored. “Master Chang usually has a capacity of a thousand cups without getting drunk.”

“Knowing he’s going to have a son, he’s happy! When people are happy, they… what’s that saying about getting drunk by yourself?” someone said, trying to show off his education but failing.

“Wine doesn’t intoxicate – people intoxicate themselves,” a clerk quickly added.

“Right, right,” everyone laughed. Seeing Chang Yuncheng’s condition, they couldn’t keep pressing him to drink, so they had attendants help him inside.

Chang Yuncheng was helped up from the table but refused to leave, reaching for a wine bowl and clutching it tightly.

“Cheers!” he shouted loudly, trembling as he raised it, his hand already unsteady and spilling half.

Everyone laughed and raised their wine bowls.

“Cheers!” they all shouted, each draining their cups.

Chang Yuncheng also drank, then laughed heartily and smashed the wine bowl on the ground, falling face-first onto the table again.

“Cheers…” he murmured once more and passed out completely.

Since learning that treating minor injuries cost nothing, the number of people coming to Qianjin Hall suddenly increased. After arriving, they discovered there was also a female doctor, so women who found it inconvenient to discuss certain matters with male doctors also increased. Because she couldn’t read pulse and had no various tests to perform, Qi Yue initially felt somewhat flustered.

“Prescriptions and pulse reading are very important, but as a doctor, besides these, there’s another essential ingredient that must be added,” Liu Pucheng said with a smile to Qi Yue, who desperately wanted to learn everything overnight.

“What?” Qi Yue asked.

“Heart,” Liu Pucheng said, patting his chest.

Qi Yue looked at Liu Pucheng and wanted to laugh.

“You’re becoming more and more like my dad,” she muttered. He always loved giving her ideological lessons – she wanted to learn surgery from him, but he always rambled about other things.

However, now she couldn’t hear that rambling even if she wanted to.

“Lady Qi, I feel you have great interest in diseases,” Liu Pucheng said again.

Isn’t that right?

Qi Yue looked at him puzzledly. To treat illness, shouldn’t she be interested in diseases?

“I mean, just looking at the disease alone, not the person,” Liu Pucheng said.

What does that mean?

Qi Yue was even more puzzled.

“When patients have physical illness, they become mentally anxious. Mental anxiety and worry lead to depression and irritability, which damages liver and kidney function. That’s why the old saying goes ‘illness comes from the heart,'” Liu Pucheng said with a smile. “As a physician whom patients trust and depend on, besides prescribing appropriate medicine, you must also relieve their worries and give them hope of recovery. Sometimes this is more effective than medicine. When they come to you, talk with them more. Medical techniques include observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking – besides pulse-taking, there’s also observation, listening, and questioning.”

Qi Yue made a sound of understanding and seriously considered his words.

In modern hospitals, patients waiting for treatment queued to the front door. Each person came in for two or three questions, got a prescription, then went for tests or hospitalization. Chat with patients? What a joke.

Qi Yue remembered the old director at the rural clinic, holding his large enamel tea mug, chatting with patients for half the day – from when this leg started hurting to how the family’s piglets were stolen but they didn’t dare tell anyone, going sleepless for days while pretending nothing was wrong. In that same time, she had already seen ten patients.

Regarding the old director’s approach, she found it simply incomprehensible. Why discuss these completely unrelated matters? She directly attributed it to the slow pace of rural life – with limited medical resources anyway, there was no fear of waste.

“Ah, the reason his leg hurts is probably rooted in this heart disease. Going sleepless for days, forcing smiles, blocked heart meridians naturally cause poor circulation,” Liu Pucheng said with a smile after she hesitantly asked about it. “He can’t easily tell familiar people about these things. Letting him speak relieves the blockage, which naturally benefits the illness.”

This works too?

“Use your heart,” Liu Pucheng finally said with a smile. “Benevolent heart, benevolent virtue.”

Qi Yue couldn’t say what she felt inside. On one hand, she felt Liu Pucheng was right, but on the other hand, it felt different from her habits. When a woman next came to her for consultation, Qi Yue tried it out.

“So your rapid heartbeat started three years ago – how did it begin then?” she asked.

The woman in her thirties sighed.

“That’s when my husband had just died, and my youngest had just learned to crawl…” she said.

“My goodness, your life must have been very difficult,” Qi Yue said with sympathy and concern.

The woman nodded, raising her hand to wipe tears.

“Yes, I wanted to follow him at the time,” she sobbed. “Doctor, you don’t know…”

She began recounting her childhood sweethearts and young marriage with her husband, their mutual support and dependence through life’s bittersweet experiences. Qi Yue listened attentively without interrupting or showing impatience, even getting up to pour her tea.

“…How could I not miss him? After all these years, I still can’t close my eyes at night. When I close them, I seem to still see him…” the woman said.

By this point, Qi Yue basically understood.

“Sister, your illness isn’t serious. It’s because you’re too heartbroken. After all these years, you still haven’t moved on, so your emotions fluctuate severely, causing unstable blood pressure and irregular heartbeat,” she sighed, holding the woman’s hand and patting it. “You need to take medicine, but you also need to think more positively. Sister, think about it – if you’re like this, your husband won’t rest peacefully underground either.”

Watching the woman leave with light steps, prescription in hand to get medicine, Liu Pucheng standing outside the door smiled and nodded approvingly.

“Master, outside the door…” Just then, a disciple ran over hurriedly, his face slightly panicked.

“What about outside the door?” Liu Pucheng asked.

Before he finished speaking, they heard commotion outside.

“…Physicians should have benevolent hearts and virtue. How can such a woman of poor character be a physician?” an elderly voice said outside.

Liu Pucheng was about to step forward when Qi Yue had already swept past him like a gust of wind.

“This old bastard is asking for trouble again,” she said.

Outside, Old Master Liu wore a long robe, his hair and sideburns still neat as before, not even the wind could disturb his clothing. He looked at Qianjin Hall with a stern expression as he spoke.

More and more people were gathering around.

It’s Qianjin Hall again – there’s always excitement at Qianjin Hall. The children selling from baskets on the street immediately ran over.

“…Fresh apricots…”

“…Egg pancakes, egg pancakes…”

“…Almond tea soup, sister, have a bowl… good for cooling down while watching the excitement…”

The street immediately became lively.

“…The abandoned woman of Marquis Dingxi’s mansion actually practices medicine brazenly. With such poor character, how can she talk about saving people?” Old Master Liu said, looking at a woman who had just stepped out of Qianjin Hall with a child. “In the past, Mencius’s mother moved three times for her son’s sake – for what reason? You actually bring your child to such a woman’s clinic – you’re unworthy of being a mother.”

The woman was stunned by his words. Seeing that the old man was clearly a scholar, and everyone held great reverence for scholars, she immediately became frightened. Her face alternated between red and white, as if she really was unworthy of being a mother.

“Enough, Old Liu, stop pretending to be a good person here,” Qi Yue’s voice came from inside the door.

Hearing this voice, Old Master Liu immediately became excited, and the surrounding people also became excited.

A show needs opposing sides to be called a show.