Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

Some medical books are as thick as bricks, containing hundreds of thousands of words; others are as thin as cicada wings, containing only a few thousand words.

The hundred pamphlets combined would amount to at most a few hundred thousand words.

When he encounters a difficult passage, he never gets bogged down in the details.

Read a book a hundred times, and its principles will become clear.

He believed in this principle—if you're stuck on something, just read through medical books a few more times, and things will naturally fall into place.

After all, the principles of medicine are interconnected, and this is not just empty talk.

Lin Quan never left his house. During the day, he buried himself in books, and at night he used Qin Jingru and Qin Huairu as live targets to find acupuncture points.

After scanning thousands of medical books and memorizing hundreds of thousands of medical cases, he began to practice pulse diagnosis diligently.

Outsiders avoid his reach, so he starts by targeting those closest to him.

A few fruit candies or a five-cent coin, and the children in the yard would immediately stretch out their wrists for him to touch.

With a smile and a few friendly words, Yi Zhonghai, Liu Haizhong, and other elders were given plenty of face.

He could feel and press the pulses of Qin Jingru and Qin Huairu at will.

After studying on his own for more than two months, he asked someone to help him get into the Beijing Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital, where he worked closely with the renowned doctor He Shihua.

He had long been known as a high-yield grain "transporter".

Under the banner of "studying traditional Chinese medicine and inheriting the national essence", he plunged into the front line of clinical practice.

After spending more than two months in the hospital, Lin Quan's ability to diagnose and treat patients had quietly surpassed that of his master.

Having mastered the Yi Jin Jing, Duan Gu Jing, and Xi Sui Jing, he possesses keen hearing and eyesight, and his fingertips have a touch ten times more sensitive than the average person.

Even the finest and faintest pulse can be read as clearly as the lines on his palm with a touch of his fingertip.

With his photographic memory, he devoured thousands of medical books and memorized hundreds of thousands of real medical cases.

In terms of his theoretical foundation in traditional Chinese medicine, few in Beijing can rival him.

For more than sixty days and nights at the Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital, I stayed in the consultation room, ward, and emergency room every day.

With his mind filled with prescriptions and pulse diagnosis charts, and his hands full of real medical cases, Lin Quan's medical skills far surpassed He Shihua's.

"Traditional Chinese medicine is vast and profound, and there is still much to learn; the exquisite techniques of Western surgical medicine are also worth breaking down and thoroughly studying."

After returning to the courtyard house, Lin Quan would go into the replica of Earth every few days to collect medical books.

The replica Earth is his private domain, where he has the final say on everything.

The planet created by the treasure bowl has no people, but it has everything: mountains, rivers, plants, buildings, and museums.

The unique book that this university of traditional Chinese medicine lacks may be available at other universities.

Hard to find print books? Online e-books are everywhere!

At nine o'clock in the evening, Qin Huairu had just sat down when Lin Quan looked up at her and said, "Sister Qin, you've got fine lines around your eyes."

"Oh? You think I look old?" Qin Huairu rolled her eyes at him.

"I'll prepare a gentle medicinal bath. After soaking in it three to five times, I guarantee your skin will be as smooth as cream and as soft as silk. I'll also prepare a blood-activating and skin-regenerating ointment. After applying it for three or four days, the fine lines around your forehead and eyes will disappear completely." Lin Quan smiled and shook the medicine bottle in his hand.

"Brother Quan, what about me?" Qin Jingru looked up at him expectantly.

"Your face is so tender, you could squeeze water out of it. Where did the wrinkles come from?" Lin Quan raised an eyebrow.

"Then... can I puff it up a little more?" She leaned in slightly and secretly pinched her chest with her fingertips.

"I'll give you a massage to clear your meridians, then apply some hair growth cream. I guarantee your hair will be firm and full, just as good as anyone else's," Lin Quan said with a mischievous smile.

The next morning, he made a quick trip to Earth, bringing back several baskets of free herbs and a few handy refining tools.

Back on Earth, with perfect timing, he quickly brewed two jars of ointment and a tub of medicinal bath.

"This face cream makes skin radiant, firm, and supple. Apply a layer after showering, and your skin will glow when you wake up."

"This jar of acupressure massage is specifically designed to promote muscle and bone relaxation and blood circulation—it's all you need to grow taller, fuller, and more energetic."

After thinking for a moment, Lin Quan simply gave up the idea of ​​treating the neighbors in the compound.

He studied medicine for two practical reasons: to protect the health of those around him, and to ensure his own life was more stable and longer.

The entire courtyard house had dozens of people, but the only close relatives were He Yuzhu, Yi Zhonghai, and an older woman, excluding Qin Huairu's family.

In his eyes, if the saying "Lin Quan's medical skills are divine" were to spread, the doorstep would be worn down by the crowds, and his peaceful days would immediately turn into a constant stream of people.

……

Since his family became well-off and he no longer had to worry about food and clothing, Jia Geng never again reached out to touch a single grain of rice or a needle from someone else's house.

As soon as summer vacation started, he led Jia Dang and Jia Huaihua to the riverbank to fish.

"This fiberglass fishing rod is much lighter and more agile than the old bamboo rod; my wrist doesn't even get sore."

"My aunt's husband's bait was so good, the fish were biting like they were stealing a bride!"

"Brother, sister, my stomach is rumbling, when are we packing up?"

"The sun has just climbed above the treetops; wait for those two big, flat scales!"

"Huaihua, let's have a steamed bun to tide us over first. After we sell the fish, we'll buy a string of 500 firecrackers, enough to shake the whole alley!"

"Brother, Xu Damao brought back two more speckled chickens yesterday."

"Craving chicken? Go ask Mom to buy it! Do you expect your brother to climb over the wall and steal it?"

"Brother Ke's beggar's chicken is so tender that the meat falls off the bone, and the whole yard smells amazing."

"My godfather's stew is absolutely amazing—the broth is clear and flavorful, and even the bones are fragrant."

"Huaihua, you kept saying you wanted chicken at dinner tonight, I guarantee you'll have some sizzling oil bubbling away on the stove tomorrow!"

"Brother, why didn't you say so?"

"I'm not interested in that piece of meat."

"Bro! It's gone under! Quick, set the hook!"

After waiting for another ten minutes or so, Jia Gengli finished reeling in the line, packed it into baskets, got on his gleaming tricycle, and headed back with his two younger sisters on the back.

Fifteen-year-old Jia Geng had broad shoulders and a thick back, with strong muscles all over his arms. He could carry a sack weighing over a hundred pounds on his shoulder with one hand.

The road was flat and wide, and carrying my two younger sisters was not difficult. The wheels rolled steadily over the blue brick alley.

As soon as the three children entered the courtyard, Jia Zhangshi glanced at them and her brows immediately furrowed: "Have they gone fishing by the river again?"

The condiment factory and the machinery factory were close by, so Jia Zhangshi and Qin Huairu would rush home for lunch to take care of the children.

Hearing the knock, Lin Quan opened the door, her smile warm: "Sister Qin."

"Dinner's ready." Qin Huairu held a bowl of steaming rice in her hand.

"Okay." Lin Quan replied, casually cutting off a thick piece of cured meat, and picked it up to leave.

"It's fine if you come, but why bring such a big piece of food!" Jia Zhangshi said politely, but her hand had already reached out to take it.

Whenever Lin Quan went to his neighbor's house for a meal, he never came empty-handed—it was either sausages or pickles, and sometimes a small jar of homemade plum wine.

"Grandma, I want to eat chicken!" Jia Huaihua called out crisply as she clung to the edge of the dining table.

"Tomorrow morning, Mom will go to the market to pick out a fat hen," Qin Huairu said with a smile, picking up a piece of tofu for her.

"I'm free this afternoon, I'll go buy it," Lin Quan replied.

The chickens raised in the Yanhuang Kingdom on Earth are all free-range. The rich aroma of the old hen soup can be smelled throughout half the alley when the wind blows.

Some people say that mushroom stewed with chicken is a perfect match, but Lin Quan neither agrees nor disagrees. He is a stickler for his own ideas: chop an old hen into large pieces, blanch it in cold water, stir-fry it in a hot pan with a little oil until it turns golden brown, sprinkle in some scallions, ginger and peppercorns, press down with salt, simmer over low heat, and the soup is clear and bright, but the taste goes straight to the top of your head.