Chapter 16: The First Acupuncture Patient

That night, Zhang Jing slept soundly.

After all, the hardest part is always the beginning, and he had at least managed to take the first step.

Wang Sen also slept well that night.

With just a few words, he had secured a free laborer. Less work for him, but no less pay earned.

However, the other two employees at Mingde Hall had trouble sleeping.

First and foremost was Huang Biao. He had a bad feeling—today’s “farce” might threaten his status as the top internal medicine doctor.

Then there was Gui Cui, who had imagined Zhang Jing to be perfect, only to be harshly proven wrong. She was torn—could such a flawed yet handsome young man truly offer himself so wholeheartedly?

As for Ma Hui, the owner of Mingde Hall, her sleep was as usual—not particularly good, but not bad either.

Like Wang Sen, before leaving work, Ma Hui checked the day’s income and expenses through the clinic system in her office.

She was not surprised that Zhang Jing only collected twelve yuan.

Ma Hui had never expected a freshly graduated young Chinese medicine practitioner to independently run consultations and treat patients right away.

The reason she hired him was partly because of his passion for traditional Chinese medicine, and partly for other less conventional reasons.

Even though she paid his salary every month with no profit, she didn’t mind in the slightest.

After all, when she founded Mingde Hall Chinese Medicine Clinic, she never intended to make a penny.

Like Zhang Jing, Ma Hui had her own obsession with practicing traditional Chinese medicine.

***

The next day.

At Mingde Hall Clinic.

As Zhang Jing entered the door, he saw Huang Biao standing at the entrance of his consultation room, looking ill and apparently waiting for someone.

“Good morning, Director Huang,” Zhang Jing greeted as usual.

Seeing Zhang Jing, Huang Biao forced a smile and said with double meaning, “Xiao Zhang, you worked hard yesterday.”

“Ha! I was basically just sitting around all day, hardly hard work,” Zhang Jing replied, ignoring the sharpness in his tone.

With that, he turned and headed upstairs.

Huang Biao sneered coldly at his retreating back, “Hmph! Still pretending with me!”

Zhang Jing soon arrived at the acupuncture and tuina treatment room on the second floor. Wang Sen hadn’t arrived yet—he was always punctual to the minute.

Excited at the thought of finally trying his hand, Zhang Jing hurried to prepare the supplies needed for warm acupuncture.

He already had one-and-a-half inch acupuncture needles and a lighter.

What he lacked were two-inch, two-and-a-half-inch, and three-inch needles, so he took one box of each from the metal cabinet.

He also took out a bag of mugwort wool.

Normally, these were everyday essentials for any acupuncture department.

But Wang Sen usually focused only on tuina massage. As for acupuncture and cupping, they were mostly for show to charge more fees.

Besides, Wang Sen’s accuracy in locating acupuncture points was questionable. For safety, he only used one-and-a-half inch needles and inserted them shallowly—just enough to keep the needles in place when connected to electroacupuncture.

As for moxibustion, there was no specialized salt or ginger moxibustion—just a few moxa sticks placed in a moxa box, smoked vigorously over the painful area.

Once everything was ready, Wang Sen arrived, fashionably late.

Seeing the array of acupuncture needles of various sizes on the treatment cart and the large bag of mugwort wool, he asked in surprise, “Xiao Zhang, what are you up to?”

“I’m planning to do warm acupuncture for a patient later,” Zhang Jing replied.

“Warm acupuncture? You know how to do warm acupuncture? You never mentioned it before,” Wang Sen asked with curiosity.

He had graduated from a formal vocational college in acupuncture and tuina and had a vague idea about warm acupuncture.

“I only know a little, just picked up some basics from my teacher,” Zhang Jing humbly said.

“I see,” Wang Sen nodded slightly, then warned seriously, “Warm acupuncture is fine, but be very careful not to burn the patient.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor Wang. I’ll stay right by their side and keep a close watch. If the mugwort wool starts falling off, I’ll quickly snuff it out with my hand.”

“All right!” Wang Sen nodded approvingly. “Xiao Zhang, do well. When the time is right, the acupuncture business will be yours to manage.”

“Okay, thank you, Doctor Wang.”

“No need to thank me—it’s all for the development of our clinic,” Wang Sen said magnanimously.

On weekdays, patients coming for acupuncture and tuina at Mingde Hall were few.

It wasn’t until around 9:30 a.m. that the day’s first patient arrived.

She was a woman in her thirties whom Zhang Jing recognized. Half a month ago, she had sought treatment from Wang Sen for a stiff neck, undergoing seven sessions.

Her name was Bai Bing, sharing a name—and some resemblance—with a certain actress.

Tilting her head pitifully, she said, “Doctor Wang, my neck started hurting badly again after waking up this morning. It’s hard to even turn it.”

Wang Sen examined her briefly, frowning. “After the last treatment, didn’t I specifically tell you not to lie in bed playing with your phone?”

“Doctor Wang, sometimes I couldn’t help it, but honestly, I didn’t use my phone last night. I went to bed early,” Bai Bing said, looking wronged.

Wang Sen was momentarily stunned, then changed his guess. “Then it must be your sleeping posture last night—did you sleep with your head tilted?”

“No, I just bought a special U-shaped pillow online recently. I can only sleep lying flat.”

“...Anyway, it’s definitely because you didn’t sleep well that the stiff neck returned,” Wang Sen said, running out of guesses.

“What should I do? It just got better a few days ago, but it keeps coming back,” Bai Bing said, her brows knitting anxiously.

“The best treatment for stiff neck is tuina and acupuncture. If symptoms are mild, you could try pain-relieving patches, but they’re not thorough and can cause skin allergies.”

“Do I have to be treated continuously for a week?” Bai Bing’s eyes showed lingering fear.

Wang Sen shook his head gently. “Your condition looks worse than last time. One week probably won’t be enough—ten days should do.”

“Ah? That long?” Bai Bing nearly broke down hearing this.

“Be patient. Last time, you probably missed a few sessions and didn’t get complete treatment, which caused the relapse. Trust me, this time I’ll take good care of you so it won’t happen again.”

“All right…” Bai Bing reluctantly nodded.

Suddenly, she remembered something. “But Doctor Wang, can you just do tuina and cupping? No acupuncture, or at least no electroacupuncture—that twitching is pretty painful.”

Wang Sen was well aware of his own acupuncture skills but was reluctant to reduce fees.

He suddenly remembered he had promised Zhang Jing a chance to practice last night.

So he nodded and said, “We can skip electroacupuncture, but you must combine with acupuncture. Later, Xiao Zhang will do warm acupuncture for you. Don’t worry—it’s warm and comfortable.”

After the conversation, Wang Sen began the tuina treatment.

As usual, Zhang Jing tactfully retreated to the acupuncture room in the back, since Wang Sen was very protective of his “secret techniques.”

About half an hour later, the tuina session ended.

“All right, try moving your neck. Does it feel better?” Wang Sen asked cautiously.

Bai Bing tried turning her neck but was still obviously limited. She honestly said, “It’s a bit easier, but moving still hurts a lot.”

“Don’t rush. Your stiff neck is severe this time. You’ll need at least three treatments before seeing obvious improvement,” Wang Sen said cautiously, leaving room for error.

“All right,” Bai Bing sighed in resignation.

“Let’s go, time for acupuncture now.”

Wang Sen led Bai Bing into the acupuncture room and gave instructions to Zhang Jing, who was holding a book.

“Xiao Zhang, do a careful warm acupuncture treatment for this lady!”

“What? Doctor Wang, aren’t you going to do the acupuncture yourself? He’s just an apprentice—does he really know acupuncture?” Bai Bing became anxious. She didn’t want to be a guinea pig, especially since she was afraid of pain.

“Who says he’s an apprentice? Xiao Zhang graduated from a formal Chinese medicine university and has already passed his practitioner’s license. Warm acupuncture is his family’s unique skill—even I can’t do it.”

Wang Sen, fearing she would refuse acupuncture again, impulsively bestowed Zhang Jing with the prestige of a traditional Chinese medicine lineage.