A miraculous doctor descended from the heavens.

Associate Professor Tian was trembling with anger, his face flushed red as if it were about to bleed, and he pointed a trembling finger at Gu Feng: "You—you dare to criticize me in public?!"

"Teacher, you flatter me. I wouldn't dare. I was just stating the facts and had no intention of criticizing you. In fact, whether it's Western medicine or traditional Chinese medicine, as long as it can truly cure the disease, it is science." Gu Feng's tone remained calm.

"What do you know? How much clinical experience have you had? Have you actually treated anyone with traditional Chinese medicine?" Associate Professor Tian became increasingly agitated, his voice rising uncontrollably. "Traditional Chinese medicine has never undergone rigorous verification by modern science; it's pseudoscience! Pseudoscience is bound to be abandoned by the times. Traditional Chinese medicine has never gained genuine recognition from the international medical community; it's something that can't be presented in a respectable manner."

Associate Professor Tian was anxious, but Gu Feng was not anxious at all.

He remained unhurried, drawing on a wealth of examples: "Teacher, traditional Chinese medicine has been refined and perfected by our ancestors, and its effectiveness in saving lives is undeniable. If, as you say, traditional Chinese medicine is pseudoscience or superstition, then what did the Chinese people rely on to treat illnesses and injuries for thousands of years before Western medicine was introduced? Precisely what you call pseudoscience and superstition. Since traditional Chinese medicine can indeed cure diseases and save lives, that is enough to prove that your assertion is untenable. Traditional Chinese medicine is neither pseudoscience nor superstition."

"The reason why traditional Chinese medicine has declined to this point is precisely because people have long looked down on it and held prejudices against it, always regarding it as something that is not respectable. This has allowed it to gradually wither away over time. Finally, I want to tell you, teacher—traditional Chinese medicine is by no means garbage; it is an incomparably profound legacy left by our ancestors on the land of China."

"You, you, you..." Associate Professor Tian's eyes widened in anger, his lips moved for a long time, but he couldn't utter a complete sentence.

"Teacher, you are the teacher of your students. If the knowledge you impart is correct, your students will flourish throughout the world, and everyone will be grateful for your kindness. But if your theories and viewpoints are biased, or even completely wrong, then you are misleading students and will be condemned for eternity. Teacher, if others treated traditional Chinese medicine as you have, completely denying your character based on only a superficial understanding, how would you feel?"

"Ah—" Before Gu Feng could finish speaking, screams of surprise erupted from the entire class.

Associate Professor Tian's face turned ashen. He clutched his chest tightly with one hand, his eyes rolled back, and he swayed and fell backward.

Holy crap, I actually fainted from anger on the spot?

This sudden turn of events shocked not only the students in the hall, but even Gu Feng himself felt a chill in his heart and exclaimed in regret that he shouldn't have acted so rashly.

He dared not delay for a moment, rushing forward to grab Associate Professor Tian's wrist and intently examining his pulse. Observation, auscultation, palpation... as for "asking," it seemed to be completely unnecessary—even if he did ask, it would be pointless at this moment.

Associate Professor Tian was already unconscious and unresponsive to the outside world.

After a careful examination, Gu Feng unhesitatingly tore open the old professor's white shirt, and with his right index and middle fingers extended simultaneously, he pressed repeatedly on the professor's chest with lightning speed, so fast that it was dazzling.

As soon as he withdrew his hand, he immediately brought his palms together and rubbed them vigorously until they were burning hot before pressing them against the old professor's chest.

The whole class stared wide-eyed—what else could this be but pseudoscience? They were just two fleshy hands, yet they were being used as defibrillators.

Of course, a few heartless guys were secretly laughing: "That's good, the old frog is down, and probably no one will bother us anymore."

At this moment, Gu Feng couldn't care about anything else; all he wanted to do was save people.

His hands are certainly not pacemakers, but they are definitely not ordinary hands either.

Those were hands meant for saving lives and helping others. After placing his palms firmly on Associate Professor Tian's chest, he didn't immediately remove them, but instead steadily and slowly massaged and rubbed along the heart meridian.

The old professor's thin, bony chest was quickly rubbed until a smooth, flushed red appeared.

Gu Feng felt the time was right, so he reached out and took out his silver needles, then focused on inserting them.

To judge the skill level of an acupuncturist, one often looks at the accuracy of their acupoint selection, the simplicity of their acupuncture combinations, and the proficiency and sophistication of their techniques. Acupoints are easy to identify, but the skill of needling them is rare.

Most surviving Chinese medical classics only mark acupoints, rarely detailing the techniques. This stems from the laughable yet pathetic sectarianism of the ancients—the idea that techniques should only be passed down to sons, or only to those outside the family line. Acupuncture techniques became closely guarded secrets, severely hindering the continuation of Chinese medicine and causing many profound and subtle techniques to gradually disappear into the annals of time. For example, the "Tongtianliang" technique that Gu Feng is currently using has, in modern times, become almost nothing more than an empty name.

"With a pure heart, treat patients as honored guests. The heart is the spirit; the heart of the healer is the heart of the patient, moving up and down with the needle."

Gu Feng always kept this acupuncture mantra firmly in mind.

Now, as he performs the acupuncture, his mind and spirit are completely focused, without the slightest distraction. He presses the acupoint with his left hand, rotating it nine times clockwise, while his right hand responds by rotating it six times in a corresponding direction. This is an extremely gentle and painless acupuncture technique from the eight lost methods of divine acupuncture.

Although Associate Professor Tian could neither open his eyes nor speak, his consciousness remained hazy.

As soon as the silver needle pierced through, he felt a jolt as if he had been struck by lightning. First, a clear, cool sensation went straight to his heart and lungs, then it turned into a warm, gentle warmth. In an instant, it was as if he had experienced a strange baptism of ice and fire.

As the medicine seeped deeper into the needle, his senses gradually became blurred.

To onlookers, all they saw was Gu Feng twisting a few thin silver needles, as if he were playing a stringed instrument, sometimes lifting and sometimes inserting them into Associate Professor Tian's body, sometimes twisting and sometimes manipulating them, as if it were just a light and easy trick.

Only Gu Feng himself knew that in just a short while, the back of his clothes was soaked with sweat.

The mental and physical exertion required to perform such acupuncture techniques is unimaginable to ordinary people.

Gu Feng's focused face was cold and composed, yet the light shining on it gave it an indescribable gentleness.

Peng Liangpei stood to the side, wanting several times to take out a tissue to wipe the fine sweat from his forehead, but in the end she was afraid that she might accidentally cause trouble, so she had to secretly suppress her thoughts and stand quietly to the side, cheering him on in her heart.

Gu Feng's acupuncture technique is indeed nearly lost, and it is truly miraculous.

Before the silver needles were even removed, Associate Professor Tian made a slight sound in his throat, and his eyes slowly opened.

But when the old man finally realized that the one who had saved his life was the student who had just been arguing with him so fiercely, and who was using traditional Chinese medicine, which he had just dismissed as pseudoscience and superstition, his expression immediately became incredibly complicated.

That old face was filled with gratitude and embarrassment, and it was hard to find a place where it could feel comfortable.

The old frog miraculously came back to life. The students breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a sense of loss: they probably couldn't escape the classes anymore.

However, when they looked at Gu Feng again, their eyes unconsciously held a hint of curiosity and admiration.

This new transfer student is definitely not as gentle and mild-mannered as she appears on the surface.

To dare to challenge the roaring, hysterical old frog face-to-face—that courage alone is unmatched in the class.

Even more terrifying is that he actually won. This is absolutely unprecedented in Class 2 of Clinical Medicine.

This arrogant person, though somewhat naive, is genuinely skilled.

Quick-thinking guys secretly weighed the options: it's best to be friends with someone like that; if you become enemies, there will likely be a lot of trouble later.

Those with dull minds just scoffed – since you praise traditional Chinese medicine so highly, why bother learning Western medicine? It's utterly absurd.

Before long, several boys came over.

"Gu Feng, my name is Liu Shiquan. From now on, we are all classmates, so please take care of each other." A tall boy spoke first.

"My name is Liu Longqi. Gu Feng, I have high hopes for you." Another skinny boy winked at Gu Feng.

"Gao Junchun. Tsk tsk, this is the first time I've seen a tough guy who dares to go head-to-head with an old frog." Gao Junchun's face was full of admiration.

"Ye Ze, Gu Feng, you have a bright future ahead of you." Ye Ze gave him a thumbs up.

Gu Feng smiled and brushed them off one by one. Only after they dispersed did he sit down again with a relaxed air.

Those who knew what was good for them came. And those who didn't? Some were engrossed in their phones, some were chatting amongst themselves, and some were doing something else entirely.

However, there was one gaze that always made Gu Feng feel uncomfortable—that gaze was filled with undisguised contempt and disdain.

Gu Feng glanced in the direction of that gaze indifferently, made no move, and quietly withdrew his gaze.

In this world, not everyone can become a friend.

He's not gold; how can he expect everyone to like him?