12. Traditional Chinese Medicine and Western Medicine

Rushing downstairs, Tang Yiyi took a seat at the table. Xu Mingtang was listening attentively as a middle-aged woman, dressed with an air of sophistication, explained her condition: “My period didn’t come for two months, then suddenly started, and now it’s been ten days and still hasn’t stopped.”

“Let me check your pulse,” Xu Mingtang replied, his expression unchanged. Yet Tang Yiyi noticed that her master took longer than usual to feel this patient’s pulse.

Afterward, with the woman’s permission, Xu Mingtang asked Tang Yiyi to try. Tang Yiyi, ever sweet-tongued, thanked her, then placed her hand on the woman’s wrist, focusing all her attention on perceiving the slightest changes in her pulse. Any illness that made her master take special notice surely had its reasons.

Xu Mingtang wrote out a prescription and handed it to the woman, giving her special instructions: “Take this medicine as prescribed, but tomorrow you must go to the hospital for a gynecological examination. Rule out all possible causes.”

Once all the patients had left, Tang Yiyi asked, “Master, the pulse of that aunt with irregular menstruation didn’t show anything particular. Isn’t it just perimenopausal irregularity? Why did you insist she go to the hospital?”

“At her age, cervical cancer is common. This is the second time she’s come to me for persistent bleeding. There’s no harm in checking.”

“But won’t she think that Chinese medicine is inferior to Western medicine, that in the end she still has to rely on the hospital?”

He chuckled. “And what do you think of Chinese and Western medicine?”

“They’re different systems, each with its strengths.”

“That’s right, each has its strengths. Western medicine is based on anatomy—the only things that exist are those that can be seen by cutting open the body. Every organ is treated as separate. When something goes wrong, they use targeted medical techniques, and the fields become more and more specialized. They ignore the body’s wholeness, its self-defense and self-repair abilities.”

“That’s just like the joke: if your hand hurts, cut it off; if your foot hurts, cut it off; if your head hurts, cut it off!” one patient chimed in with a laugh.

“But Chinese medicine has always seen the body as a whole, with meridians connecting everything. When one organ shows a problem, it means the body’s balance has been disturbed, and the diseased part is simply the weakest link.”

That patient nodded in agreement.

“In terms of treatment and nurturing, Chinese medicine places more importance on the latter. Even when treating, it’s about stimulating the body’s own healing ability to gradually restore balance and achieve health.”

“Which is why people say Western medicine is fast and Chinese medicine is slow.”

“Yes, but when you’re ill, who doesn’t wish to recover quickly? Western diagnostic tools are more straightforward and precise—how high the blood pressure is, what stage of diabetes, the diameter of a tumor—these are things Chinese medicine’s observation and pulse-taking can’t pinpoint as exactly.”

Tang Yiyi nodded. “Professor Huang told us that those diagnostic instruments are the result of scientific progress, and Western medicine applies them directly. Many minimally invasive surgeries can even be performed remotely over the internet. Chinese medicine can’t keep up with that.”

“True, but Chinese medicine is better for chronic conditions—those illnesses that accumulate because of poor lifestyle. They can be prevented through adjustment with Chinese medicine.”

Tang Yiyi found herself in full agreement. Wasn’t it precisely because she studied integrated Chinese and Western medicine that she wanted to combine the two approaches?

“Yes, both are products of human wisdom. But have you noticed something? Chinese medicine can embrace Western medicine, but Western medicine cannot embrace Chinese medicine,” Xu Mingtang remarked.

“Master, haven’t you noticed that our entire civilization is remarkably inclusive?” she replied.

Zuo Chengjiang, listening nearby, chuckled. “Yiyi, your master is a hereditary Chinese physician, yet he evaluates Western medicine so objectively. Isn’t he the most inclusive one among us?”

Xu Bin, sitting to the side, muttered, “If I can stand working at the same counter with you for so long, I must be the most tolerant.”

Xu Mingtang shot his son a glare. “Mind your manners.”

Tang Yiyi asked Zuo Chengjiang for Xu Mingtang’s prescriptions from today, and Zuo handed her a file folder. “Put the prescriptions inside once you’ve read them. You’ll be in charge of archiving from now on.”

“Don’t worry, Master Zuo. I’ll take good care of them.”

Tang Yiyi took the prescriptions back to her desk. Xu Mingtang asked her, “You’re planning to sit for the physician’s licensing exam next year?”

“Yes, I’ll be eligible next year. I don’t want to miss any opportunity.”

“Good. If you have any difficulties, tell me.”

At dinner, Mrs. Xu looked at Xu Bin, who kept yawning, and asked, “Why do you look so pale? Didn’t you sleep well last night?”

“No, a classmate’s grandfather passed away a couple of days ago. I went to help and got back late.”

“But your lack of energy isn’t just from the past couple of days,” Xu Mingtang remarked. “You can’t be attending funerals every night.”

“Sometimes I go play video games,” Xu Bin mumbled.

“You never used to play games,” Mrs. Xu said, surprised.

“What games?” Xu Mingtang asked.

“Uh… League of Legends, team matches,” Xu Bin replied, eyes on his father but nudging Tang Yiyi under the table with his foot.

Tang Yiyi was baffled at first, but with that nudge, she suddenly understood and quickly said, “Yes, it’s a real game. Lots of people like to play it.”

Xu Mingtang gave Xu Bin a long look. “Diligence leads to mastery, play leads to ruin. You’ve been a junior herbalist for five years now, that’s long enough. This fall, sign up for the herbalist’s exam.”

Xu Bin protested, “This year? I haven’t started preparing yet. Can’t I wait until next year…”

Xu Mingtang set his bowl down with a thud. “Yiyi plans to take the physician’s exam as soon as she finishes her internship—she doesn’t want to waste a single year. And you want to wait until next year? You still have six months; that’s plenty of time.”

Xu Bin opened his mouth but dared not argue further.

Dinner ended with the family in a rather subdued mood.