Chapter 2: Traditional Chinese Medicine Pulse Diagnosis

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Zhang Jing followed closely behind Li Yu as they turned a corner, and sure enough, the National Medicine Hall was right ahead.

Looking up, beneath the traditional Huizhou-style gate tower, three gilded characters “National Medicine Hall” hung, shining brilliantly under the morning sun.

On either side of the gate hung couplets, carved in deep green on reddish-purple sandalwood, standing out vividly.

The upper couplet read: "The National Medicine Hall inherits Zhongjing’s standards," and the lower one: "The apricot forest’s renowned garden follows Nanyang’s exemplary rules."

Inside the main hall, long orderly queues of patients lined up for registration and consultation.

Zhang Jing couldn’t help but marvel: indeed, without comparison, there is no harm.

Judging by the sheer number of patients here, the total outpatient volume of all doctors combined at Mingde Hall since its opening probably didn’t even reach half of this.

Suddenly, Zhang Jing noticed the full name of this National Medicine Hall was “National Medicine Hall Traditional Chinese Medicine Outpatient Department, Jiazi City Branch.”

Jiazi City?

Such a strange city name—there’s no provincial capital with that name in reality, nor anywhere else in the country.

It seemed the system had indeed designed a virtual city.

Yet everything was simulated so realistically, it was truly astonishing.

Li Yu noticed Zhang Jing standing there in a daze for a long moment and quietly urged, “Xiao Zhang, don’t dawdle. Hurry up, I still want to introduce you to a senior sister.”

Senior sister?

Hearing this, Zhang Jing felt a little hopeful.

He wondered how long she had been a disciple and what her medical skill level was.

Having a fellow apprentice to exchange ideas with would surely help improve his own medicine.

Soon, they arrived at the consultation room on the second floor, the plaque reading: “Li Yu, Attending Traditional Chinese Medicine Physician.”

Zhang Jing glanced at the doctor’s profile hanging by the door. The very first line read: “Li Yu, young expert in traditional Chinese medicine, academic successor of Elder Liu...”

Elder Liu?

Just that name dazzled Zhang Jing’s titanium-alloy sharp eyes.

Elder Liu was a leading figure in the classical formula school. Anyone studying Shanghan (Cold Damage) medicine today knew him well.

Not only was Elder Liu adept at classical prescriptions, but he also adapted ancient formulas for modern use with remarkable results, elevating the study of classical formulas to a new height.

Besides teaching and clinical work, Elder Liu was a prolific writer, authoring over thirty representative works including “Fourteen Lectures on Shanghan Lun,” “Interpretation of Shanghan Lun,” “Essentials of Shanghan,” “Plain Talk on Shanghan Lun,” and “Clinical Guide to Classical Formulas.” He had published over 110 academic papers and held a prestigious position in the field of traditional Chinese medicine.

Zhang Jing hadn’t expected Li Yu to be so impressive at such a young age.

He felt ashamed for not recognizing a giant when he first saw him.

“Xiao Zhang, why are you spacing out again? Come meet your senior sister,” Li Yu said, his expression slightly darkening.

Thinking: What’s with this kid? He seems a bit slow and not very bright.

Zhang Jing snapped back to attention and looked up quickly.

He saw a girl about his age, with a ponytail, staring straight at him.

Her eyes were large and bright, but her gaze seemed somewhat strange.

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“Hello! My name is Li Simeng,” the girl said boldly, extending her right hand.

For Zhang Jing, it was his first time shaking hands with a girl, so he felt a bit awkward.

He lightly shook her hand twice, then quickly let go, smiling, “Senior sister, hello. My name is Zhang Jing.”

Li Simeng was drawn to this handsome, slightly shy boy and giggled, “Don’t be so formal, just call me Simeng.”

“Simeng, be serious!” Li Yu whispered a reprimand from the side.

Simeng immediately restrained her smile and muttered reluctantly, “Okay, Master.”

Zhang Jing thought the girl was a bit frivolous and couldn’t understand why Li Yu accepted such a disciple.

“Alright, Simeng, quickly take your junior brother to get a work uniform. The clinic is about to start!”

Following Simeng’s directions, Zhang Jing went to the changing room and put on a white coat.

When he returned to the consultation room, Li Yu was already seated.

Simeng sat upright behind him on his left, holding a notebook and pen.

Seeing Zhang Jing arrive, Li Yu pointed to a small square stool on the right.

“Xiao Zhang, sit here. When patients come, you’ll start by registering and feeling their pulse.”

Zhang Jing felt nervous.

Thinking: Why is he being put to work immediately? He hardly had any experience with pulse diagnosis.

In fact, even among seasoned traditional Chinese doctors, fewer than half are truly skilled at pulse diagnosis.

Many merely imitate the motions, putting on a show.

True pulse diagnosis experts are extremely rare.

After some thought, Zhang Jing decided to be honest: “Teacher Li, I’m still not very good at pulse diagnosis.”

Li Yu frowned and asked, “Didn’t your teachers at school teach you?”

“Not very well,” Zhang Jing struggled to say.

Li Yu shook his head slightly, speaking seriously, “Among the four diagnostic methods in TCM, pulse and tongue diagnosis are most important, with pulse diagnosis being the most critical. You must master it well to be a true traditional Chinese doctor.”

Zhang Jing’s expression grew awkward.

Li Yu continued, “At least you remember the positioning method for the inch, gate, and cubit pulses on the wrist from your ‘TCM Diagnostics’ textbook, right?”

When it came to theory, Zhang Jing was confident.

Clearing his throat, he immediately recited: “The styloid process of the radius is the gate (guan). From the gate to the thenar eminence is one cun (inch), hence the name cun position. From the gate to the cubital crease is one chi (cubit), hence the name chi position. The yang pulse emerges and the yin pulse enters at the gate, hence the name guan position.”

“The specific positioning is: the radial styloid process is guan; above guan near the wrist joint is cun; behind guan near the elbow is chi.”

Li Yu’s frown gradually relaxed as he asked, “Do you remember the basic pulse holding techniques?”

“There are three essentials to holding the pulse: lifting, pressing, and searching. Lightly lifting and following is called lifting; heavy pressing is called pressing; moderate pressure, neither light nor heavy, seeking the pulse’s curve is called searching.”

“At first, the pulse is felt lightly; if it’s between the skin, it is yang, associated with the fu organs and heart/lungs. If felt with heavy pressure, lying beneath the flesh, it is yin, associated with the zang organs and liver/kidneys. Moderate pressure yields the pulse in the blood and flesh, the harmony of yin and yang, reflecting the spleen and stomach. If superficial, middle, or deep pulses are not visible, one must seek carefully; if faintly visible, it is the yin-yang hidden pulse. This applies to all three positions.”

Having heard this, Li Yu nodded and thought: I originally assumed Zhang Jing’s foundation was poor, but his theoretical knowledge is quite solid.

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At that moment, a knock came at the door.

“Come in!” Li Yu called softly.

A middle-aged male patient pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking around nervously.

Li Yu asked Zhang Jing to move the stool in front of the consultation desk and encouraged him, “When feeling the pulse, calm your mind and take your time to carefully sense the pulse beneath your fingers.”

“Please sit!” Zhang Jing composed himself and invited the patient to sit.

“Doctor, I...” the patient began to explain his symptoms as soon as he sat down.

Li Yu quickly interrupted, “Please don’t speak yet. We will ask after we finish the pulse diagnosis.”

The patient said “Oh,” then fell silent, though his face was full of doubt.

“Dr. Zhang, begin the pulse diagnosis.”

Zhang Jing was momentarily surprised by the sudden change in address but quickly understood.

In front of patients, such respect was proper.

“Please place your left hand here, palm up,” Zhang Jing said calmly.

The patient positioned his wrist on the pulse pillow as instructed.

Zhang Jing extended his right hand’s index, middle, and ring fingers, locating the three pulse positions of cun, guan, and chi according to the standard method.

To fully calm his mind, Zhang Jing closed his eyes.

He first applied simultaneous pressure with all three fingers, employing light, then heavy, then moderate force.

Next, he used each finger separately, applying the three techniques of lifting, pressing, and searching—light lift, heavy press, moderate search.

Zhang Jing carefully recalled the characteristics of twelve common pulse types, discerning the condition of each position.

Li Yu attentively guided him from the side.

After some time, Zhang Jing slowly opened his eyes.

He gently withdrew his hand and nodded, signaling, “It’s done.”

Li Yu responded with a slight nod.

Then he began to personally feel the patient’s pulse.

Zhang Jing watched carefully and noticed Li Yu’s calm demeanor and skillful finger technique—clearly a pulse diagnosis master.

Together, their examination took about five to six minutes.

Afterward, Li Yu said to Zhang Jing, “Now you can explain your pulse diagnosis.”

“It’s a floating and wiry pulse. The Pulse Classic says: ‘If it is felt with lifting but insufficient with pressing, it is a floating pulse.’ Also: ‘If lifting fails to feel it but pressing feels like a taut bowstring, it is a wiry pulse.’ This pulse is floating under the fingers, easily felt with light pressure, taut like a bowstring, and lessened with heavy pressing. Therefore, it is undoubtedly a floating-wiry pulse.”

Li Yu smiled—this young man truly understood things at a glance...