But this was just a guess, not enough to prove anything. Qin Chaoyu didn’t voice it out loud, merely noting it silently before continuing with the others to search for the remaining patients.
After finding the first patient, the organizers quickly sent the second clue question: “What is the best medicine for viral flu?”
This was a test of the contestants’ prescription skills. On the surface, it seemed simple—after all, the flu is one of the most common illnesses in daily life, and even non-doctors could rattle off a few remedies. But securing the clue wasn’t that straightforward.
First, the question didn’t specify the patient’s age. If they only provided one answer, the organizers might mark it as incorrect. The phrasing “best” implied that what worked for adults might not be ideal for infants or the elderly.
This was a test of attention to detail.
However, none of the six contestants—selected from among China’s brightest—were careless. They spotted the trap without needing a reminder.
After discussing, each proposed a prescription, and they compiled their answers before sending them to the organizers.
“Correct answer!” The reply came swiftly. “Given the excellence of your response, this clue will be more detailed.”
Exchanging glances, the six knew they’d guessed the organizers’ intent—better answers yielded more precise clues.
“The second patient is a blonde, blue-eyed woman, approximately forty years old.”
A blonde, blue-eyed woman?
That was a very broad description for foreigners. Scanning the crowd, they spotted six or seven potential candidates.
What a “detailed” clue…
Gao Xiangfei clapped his hands, lightening the tense atmosphere. “Let’s get moving. Compared to the last clue, this one is indeed more specific.”
Rong Zhen’er chimed in, “Come on, we’re running out of time. But what about the patient we just found? Should he come with us?” She pointed at the confused Black patient standing nearby, unable to follow their conversation.
The cameraman gestured that the patient could rest at the organizers’ base—a nearby hotel.
Hearing he could relax indoors with air conditioning, the man cheered, bid them farewell, and left without a backward glance.
The six watched enviously before resuming their search.
With her hypothesis in mind, Qin Chaoyu paid extra attention to every blonde, blue-eyed middle-aged woman she saw. If her guess was right, they could finish the competition early.
Meanwhile, the director, lounging in the air-conditioned hotel and watching the contestants struggle on screen, was thoroughly pleased. This was exactly the outcome he wanted. If it were too easy, where would the fun be? How would they attract viewers and boost ratings?
Sipping his assistant’s carefully brewed coffee, he smirked at the screen.
At that moment, Qin Chaoyu’s team finally found the second patient—a blonde, blue-eyed middle-aged woman—after an hour and a half.
Through her, Qin Chaoyu confirmed her theory: this patient also had the flu.
Confident now, Qin Chaoyu relaxed. As the second patient left, she stopped her teammates from rushing off. “Have you noticed the connection between the two patients and the clues we received?”
Her words sparked realization in the other two TCM practitioners, Xing Yueyue and Luo Chenshe.
“Same illness?” Xing Yueyue ventured vaguely.
Rong Zhen’er, still lost, sensed a breakthrough but grew impatient. “What’s the same? Explain clearly!”
It wasn’t her fault—she, along with Si Liangxiao and Gao Xiangfei, were Western medicine practitioners and unfamiliar with TCM diagnostic techniques like observation.
Qin Chaoyu didn’t keep them in suspense. “Both patients appeared healthy but were actually sick—with the same illness. And coincidentally, it matched the question we answered: the flu. What if all ten patients have the flu, and all our questions are flu-related?”
The Western medicine trio brightened. If true, TCM observation could help them find all ten patients swiftly, potentially finishing first. Imagine the prestige—proving China’s medical prowess to skeptical nations.
Excited, they urged Qin Chaoyu’s group to act fast, fearing rival teams might catch on.
Luo Chenshe sighed. “No rush. Even with this insight, searching blindly would be exhausting. Let’s wait for the third clue—it’ll be faster.”
Since they spoke in Chinese, the cameraman only grasped fragments, assuming they were discussing the next clue. Had he understood, he’d have alerted the organizers that their scheme was unraveled.
But his confusion persisted. Hours later, when China’s team finished, the organizers were stunned.
Four hours? Half the allotted time? Impossible! They’d expected half the teams to complete by late afternoon—not 2:30 PM.
“Did they cheat?”
The director’s initial suspicion faded quickly. As organizers, they’d ensured no leaks. Even he had only learned the details an hour before the competition. How could the Chinese team, with no local connections, have cheated?
The only explanation left was the unlikeliest: they’d genuinely found all ten patients in four hours.
With the early finish, the team returned to the hotel, their cameraman still baffled.
Back at the director’s tent, he was bombarded: “How did they do it? Did you see?”
“Was it some kind of sorcery?”
Sorcery? In a way, yes—TCM observation. To outsiders, diagnosing illness just by looking seemed like magic, even fraud. How could mere observation rival advanced Western diagnostic tools?
Mainstream Western medicine, while increasingly interested in TCM treatments like herbs or cupping, remained skeptical of techniques like observation and pulse diagnosis.
The cameraman, overwhelmed, couldn’t answer. He’d been clueless from the start.
Frustrated, the crew turned to the director, hoping the host could extract answers. Such a miraculous feat demanded explanation.
And did the director send the host?
Absolutely. The moment the team stepped out, host Stanley Derrick intercepted them, marveling, “You’re incredible! Finishing in four hours—unbelievable. The organizers are questioning reality.”
Though proud, the team stayed grounded. This was just the first round; consistent wins mattered more.
Internally, the other five were in awe of Qin Chaoyu. Her observation skills were flawless—every diagnosis spot-on. Without her, they’d never have finished so quickly.
Unaware of their thoughts, Stanley pressed, “What’s your secret? How did you do it?”
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