A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

The winter snow came one after another.

The large pot at Yang's restaurant in the east of the city was burning brightly, but the number of patients didn't decrease despite the freezing weather; the line stretched from the main room to the alley entrance just as long.

At noon that day, two men helped an old man into the clinic.

The old man's surname was Zhou. He sold groceries in the south of the city, usually pulling a small cart through the streets. He was quite old, but still very strong. Now, he was slumped on his two sons, his face sallow, his lips pale, and he kept making "uh, uh" sounds in his throat.

"Dr. Yang!" The eldest son's voice was trembling with tears. "My dad's been hiccuping for four days and four nights straight!"

Yang Hu put down the herbs he was grinding, looked up, and his eyebrows twitched.

Every time the old man burped, his whole body seemed to jerk, and he felt like he was about to collapse from the burping. Moreover, he hadn't drunk water or eaten for four days and four nights in a row, and his eyes had sunken quite a bit; he looked like he was about to give up.

"My father is getting on in years," the eldest son said, wiping his eyes. "This little ailment of hiccups has been diagnosed by three doctors in the city, and they all say they can't cure him. He's getting weaker every day. What if something unexpected happens to him? How will my brother and I survive?"

"What did the doctor in the city say?" Yang Hu asked.

"We've seen three doctors already!" the second son exclaimed anxiously. "The first one said it was just a cold and prescribed some stomach-warming medicine, but the more he took it, the better it felt. The second one said his stomach qi had stopped flowing, which was... a sign of a terminal illness, and told us to prepare for the worst. The third one said he bumped into something unclean and needed to have a shaman perform a ritual to 'jump' around it!"

After saying "Prepare for your funeral," the old man's eyes began to well up with tears. But he couldn't stop hiccuping; it kept coming one after another, and he couldn't even cry properly.

A few onlookers gathered in the street, chattering amongst themselves. "Does a burp kill someone?" "I think he just bumped into something unclean and needs someone to take him home."

Ignoring them, Yang Hu walked a few steps, first taking the pulse of the man, then examining the old man's tongue, and then touching his arms and belly.

I have a plan in mind.

It's not that your stomach is blocked, nor is it because you bumped into something unclean. It's a diaphragm cramp. The fleshy part of your chest that controls breathing cramps, pushing the air downwards, which is why you burp. Over time, you can't eat or sleep, and that's why you become so thin. It looks scary, but it's not that serious at all. Just let the reversed air flow down and relax your diaphragm, and it will stop naturally.

"This isn't a terminal illness," Yang Hu said. "It's just a cramp in the membrane in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Once you calm down, it'll be fine."

"Can...can it really get better?" The eldest son didn't believe it. "Three doctors all said it's incurable, and they've even told us to prepare for his funeral."

"Get the needle." Yang Hu didn't waste any more words.

Aji quickly handed over a silver needle.

Yang Hu inserted a needle between the old man's eyebrows and on the inside of his wrist, and then inserted needles on some acupoints on his back and chest. He did so quickly and skillfully.

The onlookers were all on tenterhooks, and they obediently burped, pricking their eyebrows and wrists, wondering if it would work.

The porters and neighbors around were all worried for the old man—three doctors in the city had all ruled him beyond saving, how could this young doctor possibly save him with a few acupuncture needles?

After a while, the old man's hiccups became longer and longer.

Yang Hu had someone bring him warm water, mixed it with a bowl of medicine to soothe his stomach and relieve nausea, and fed it to him slowly.

Uh……

The old man burped again, but after that, he didn't burp for a long time before he burped again. After a long while, the hiccups that had occurred over the four days and nights stopped altogether.

The room fell completely silent.

The old man stared blankly at the ground for a long time before touching his stomach, his eyes welling up with tears again. This time, however, he wasn't crying; instead, he laughed happily.

"I'm not fighting anymore... I really am not fighting anymore!"

His two sons immediately knelt down, but Yang Hu pushed them away.

Those few who were diagnosed with "terminal illness" and "preparing for their funerals," and the city doctor who wanted to hire a shaman to perform a ritual, were so ashamed of this that they couldn't lift their heads for quite some time.

"A hiccup can kill someone, and yet a few needles can stop it." A neighbor exclaimed, sticking out his tongue. "Of those three doctors, one said it was a cold, another a terminal illness, and the third a contusion, but Doctor Yang took one look and said it was a blockage by a membrane. Look at his medical skills, they're amazing!"

Within two days, the people in the south of the city knew about it.

"Old Zhou, who sells groceries in the south of the city, had been hiccuping for four days and four nights. He was about to die from hiccups at the local doctor's, but then he found Doctor Yang from the east of the city, who stopped his hiccups with a few acupuncture needles."

"Not bad. It is said that of the three doctors, one said it was a cold evil, another said it was a terminal illness, and the third even wanted to find a shaman to perform a ritual. But when he went to Doctor Yang, he immediately said that the membrane on his chest had ruptured. His eyesight is amazing."

Old Zhou was a grocer, and his family wasn't wealthy. Yang Hu only took a few cents for the medicine and didn't charge a consultation fee. He also gave him some instructions, telling him to eat good, easily digestible food for the next few days and to avoid catching a cold or getting angry, so that the diaphragm could completely dissipate.

The old man thanked him profusely, and before leaving, he insisted on picking out some needles and thread and a small packet of maltose from the peddler's stall and giving them to Yang Hu, saying that poor people don't have much good stuff, and it was just a token, and Doctor Yang had to accept it no matter what.

Aji was packing up his needles when he couldn't help but ask: "Master, everyone can hiccup, so how come he hiccuped for four days and four nights and almost lost his life?"

"A normal burp is nothing to worry about!" Yang Hu said. "But his... that membrane got stuck! He couldn't control it himself, the air kept pushing upwards, and the more it pushed, the weaker he became, and the weaker he became, the less he could stop it, which led to the dangerous situation!"

"Then let's use an acupuncture needle? Pull that stagnant air down, and the membrane will loosen! They may seem like the same thing—hiccups—but the underlying causes are worlds apart!"

"Why are you pricking my eyebrows and wrists, but not the spot where I hiccup?"

Aji asked again.

"The disease is in the diaphragm, but the acupuncture points don't all have to be on the diaphragm!" Yang Hu said.

"There is a meridian in the human body. The acupoints at the eyebrows and wrists follow the flow of Qi. If you needle these points, you can guide the Qi downwards from the root. This is much more effective than directly needled on the ailment! It's the same principle as controlling floods. If the water is stuck downstream, you have to go upstream to dredge the mud. How can you dredge all the mud if you only dig downstream?"

Aji seemed to understand but not quite, yet he kept these words in mind.

Nighttime, in the backyard.

Lu Yan poured Yang Hu another cup of hot tea and listened to him recount the treatment he had given to the old man who had been hiccuping for four days and four nights. She smiled to herself.

"Young master, your hands are so powerful, even a burp can be a lifesaver!"

"No matter how minor or serious the illness, what others consider a terminal illness may not be incurable, and what others take seriously may become fatal if left untreated. The difficulty lies not in treating the illness itself, but in accurately determining whether it is indeed such a disease!"

As Lu Rou did the accounting, she listened to Yang Hu talk, noting down the waived consultation fees and the prices of medicines received that day. Liu Ye returned from outside, trudging through the snow, brushing it off and putting down a rabbit. Qin Ying sat by the window, slowly polishing a half-new knife. Listening to the laughter and chatter filling the room, the perpetually tense, icy expression on her face subtly relaxed a little.

The fire in the charcoal stove grew bigger and bigger.

Since they entered the city, Yang's brand has become more and more famous every day. In and out of the city, if anyone has an ailment that even doctors can't cure, the first place they think of is this small clinic in the east of the city.

But beneath the warm glow of this room, Yang Hu knew very well:

There are still some things that are far from being something we can relax about.