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

The Yang family moved to the west of the city, and half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

The western part of the city was a hub for wealthy families and officials' wives, so Yang's clinic, which had moved from the east side of the city, was initially ignored. However, its reputation for curing Old Master Wei was undeniable. In less than ten days, patients lined up from the front courtyard to the alley entrance seeking treatment.

Early this morning, just as the clinic was taking its boards off, a commotion broke out in the alley.

Three or four men, with their hands and feet, carried a person over and made him stumble and fall as he ran in.

The man had his eyes closed, his face was sallow, he was muttering to himself, and there was a large smear of dirt on his clothes.

"Dr. Yang! Help!" The leader of the group shouted until his voice was hoarse. "He got up early this morning to open his shop, everything was fine, and then he just fell headfirst!"

Yang Hu greeted the old man as he stepped out and reached out to help him up.

The old man, startled by this, immediately cried out in pain, his teeth chattering as he said, "Don't move, don't move me! If you move me, the weather will change! It will change, I'm going to die!"

The man supporting him said, "Sir, as soon as he opened his eyes, it was like the whole room was spinning, the walls were spinning, and he and his chair were flipped over! We had to carry him here, and he vomited three times along the way."

The crowd gathered around started making noise.

"Stroke! It's a stroke! I saw my father suffer a stroke the year he passed away!"

"Stroke! I think it's because he bumped into something unclean. Quickly, call Granny Liu from the west side of the city to come and give him a good scare..."

Ignoring their clamor, Yang Hu squatted down and pressed three fingers against the old man's wrist pulse.

The pulse was steady and not erratic, showing none of the symptoms one would expect from a stroke. Looking further, the old man's eyelids were slightly twitching involuntarily.

I have a clear idea in mind.

It wasn't a stroke, nor did he bump into something; a chronic ear problem flared up, causing him to stand up and vomit uncontrollably.

This disease looks terrible and can be deadly, but it won't kill you.

"He can't have a stroke," Yang Hu said, his voice not loud, but everyone who was shouting heard him clearly. "It's just that his ear problem has flared up again, making him feel nauseous when he stands up. What's the point of hiring a shaman? What's the point of hiring a shaman? How can a shaman control the nausea in his ear?"

The woman who had been clamoring for a shaman retorted, "Can an ear problem be cured by someone falling to the ground and vomiting?"

"able."

Yang Hu had someone bring a soft couch, laid the old man flat on it, personally held his head in his hands, slowly turned it to one side, supported him, and slowly turned him around a few times.

The old man's retching intensified after being turned around, and he continued to gag while holding onto the edge of the bed. The crowd around him held their breath in fear, and some of the women turned away, too timid to look.

Yang Hu remained calm, his hands never stopping, only saying, "Just bear with it, I'll feel better once I've vented this anger."

"Pah!" someone nearby said impatiently. "You've thrown up like that, and you're still turning your head? Is this supposed to be treatment or a prank?"

The boy was even more heartbroken. He wrung his hands and tried to stop Yang Hu several times, but Yang Hu stopped him.

By the third turn, the old man's dry heaving sounds were weaker than before.

After turning five times, the old man's grip on the bed railing gradually loosened.

Yang Hu then stopped and fed him a calming and dizzy meal.

Before long, the old man's furrowed brows slowly relaxed.

He tried it, very cautiously, and opened one eyelid.

"Oh dear!" His voice trembled. "No...it won't turn anymore. The sky...it's stopped turning!"

The crowd around them erupted in chaos.

"Really not spinning anymore? I was just throwing up like crazy!"

"Amazing! Just a few turns and the person sat up!"

The young man squeezed through the crowd and knelt down with a thud: "Dr. Yang, you saved my father's life!"

"Get up!" Yang Hu pulled him up. "You're not going to die from this illness, don't do this bowing!"

The woman who had been calling for a shaman shrank back into the crowd, her face flushed with embarrassment, and dared not say anything more.

The man who kept talking about "stroke" also fell silent, looking embarrassed.

He added, "This illness can flare up again. When it does, don't panic. Just lie on your back and tilt your head to one side. If that doesn't work, come back and ask me for some medicine to suppress it. Drink less tea and don't stay up too late; that will reduce the frequency."

Aji, who was watching intently, couldn't help but whisper, "Master, he was vomiting so badly, his eyes were closed and he was screaming that the world was spinning. It looked just like he was having a stroke. How could you tell at a glance that it wasn't?"

"Look at his pulse and his eyes," Yang Hu said. "A stroke patient's pulse is heavy, and one side of their body is weak. He's flat, and he can move his hands and feet. The key is that his eyeball is twitching to one side. This is a disturbance in the ear, making it unstable. The root of the problem is in the ear, not the brain. If we look at the wrong place and treat it as a stroke, it will only make things worse."

Aji seemed to understand but not quite, but he remembered those words.

Li Laoshuan was a small shop owner who didn't have much money.

As for the money, Yang Hu took a few based on the cost of the medicine.

The old man thanked me profusely and tried to pull me out, but then turned back and forced a bunch of candied fruit that had just come in, insisting that I not take it back.

Within half a day, the news had spread throughout the western part of the city.

At the tea stalls, vegetable vendors and water carriers were all talking about it.

"You don't know about that Doctor Yang from the west of the city. He cured Old Li, who fell to the ground and vomited like that, in just a few moments."

"I originally thought he was some kind of quack doctor from the east of the city, but his skills are better than those of the old doctors who practice in the city."

"When I first saw Li Laoshuan fall to the ground, none of the people around came forward. They all thought Li Laoshuan had gone over there."

Now that they've seen someone successfully establish themselves and open a shop, no one can hold a grudge.

The powerful families in the west of the city, who had initially looked down on this out-of-town clinic, all silently remembered a name after hearing their subordinates say this: "Dr. Yang from the West of the City"!

When Li Laoshuan woke up, he woke his son up that night and brought two baskets of red dates and longans from their shop to Yang Ji, saying that he must thank them. Lu Rou felt embarrassed to refuse and paid him the current price, but the boy was so anxious that he jumped up and down.

Night falls, in the backyard

It was a busy day, and Yang Hu leaned back in a chair in the corridor, finally getting a moment of relaxation.

Lu Yan came in with a cup of hot tea, put it in his hand, and then tidied his clothes that had been ruffled by the evening breeze. She didn't say a word, her eyes were full of affection.

Lu Rou was also fiddling with the abacus beads, recording the money she had earned that day, and her mouth was wide open in a smile.

Liu Ye left two wild game pieces at the door after returning from the medicinal herb plantation on the outskirts of the city.

Qin Ying, under the light, had been looking down at a short dagger, but instead of cleaning it, she looked up at the man leaning back in his chair.

After watching for a while, he suddenly spoke up: "You've been busier every day these past few days."

Yang Hu closed his eyes and hummed in agreement.

"The west side of the city is different." She paused for a moment, wondering what secrets lay hidden there. "This place is too murky; only people of status and position live here."

The more famous you are, the more jealous people will be.

Yang Hu opened his eyes and glanced at her.

He knew what was hidden in her words.

With Prefect Zhao and the Prefectural Magistrate in charge in the west of the city, and given his immense reputation as a minor doctor from out of town, he naturally had to get closer and closer to these powerful and unpredictable families.

"What's the big deal?" He laughed, closing his eyes again. "If someone's unlucky enough to stumble upon us, don't we have someone with excellent swordsmanship?"

Qin Ying gripped the knife in her hand and tightened her grip.

The light illuminated her eyes, revealing a wariness born of countless battles, along with emotions she herself was unaware of slowly welling up...