Qin Chaoyu coughed lightly and organized her words. “After examining Mrs. Xiong’s condition, I’ve preliminarily identified her pathology. However, I’d like to understand more details. Do you have her medical records? Or do you know the specifics of her childbirth? For example, what symptoms appeared before the bleeding, and what methods the doctors used to stop it?”
The more detailed Qin Chaoyu’s questions were, the more the Xiong family trusted her, even seeing her thoroughness as a sign of responsibility.
Xiong Lunbing thought for a moment and recalled that he had kept his wife’s medical records. He quickly responded, “Yes! Yes!” He nudged Xiong Bochang and instructed, “The records are in the top drawer of my desk in the study. Go fetch them!”
Xiong Bochang nodded blankly and hurried off to retrieve the records.
After reviewing them, Qin Chaoyu had a clear understanding. She glanced at the anxious expressions of the Xiong family, who had been watching her intently, and decided not to keep them in suspense. “The doctor who attended Mrs. Xiong during childbirth was quite skilled. They not only detected the postpartum hemorrhage promptly but also took immediate action. That’s why her condition didn’t worsen further. Of course, her current state isn’t ideal, but it’s remarkable she’s held on this long.”
Her words carried a hint of bluntness, but they were her honest thoughts.
Though the Xiong family found her tone somewhat harsh, they dared not offend her now. They swallowed their discomfort and consoled themselves.
Talented people often have quirks. Perhaps Dr. Qin’s straightforwardness was her defining trait. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about her baffling them with incomprehensible medical jargon. That was a relief.
“Now, let me explain Mrs. Xiong’s condition. In traditional Chinese medicine, postpartum hemorrhage is referred to as ‘blood dizziness.’ The causes and mechanisms are divided into two syndromes: deficiency and excess. The deficiency type involves loss of yin and blood, leading to mental instability. The excess type involves blood stasis attacking upwards, disturbing the mind. Simply put, it’s due to qi deficiency, blood stasis, or birth trauma. Different pathologies manifest differently. For example, Mrs. Xiong’s records indicate persistent bleeding after fetal and placental delivery, with bright red blood. Later examinations likely revealed restlessness, depression, and lethargy—all symptoms of this condition. Her deep, thin pulse aligns with my diagnosis. Additionally, her pale complexion, palpitations, shortness of breath, cold limbs, profuse sweating, and pale tongue indicate blood deficiency.”
Qin Chaoyu’s lengthy explanation left the Xiong family dizzy. They understood each word individually, but the combination was baffling.
Xiong Lunbing forced a smile. “Dr. Qin, none of us are medical professionals, especially not in something as profound and complex as traditional Chinese medicine. Your explanation about blood deficiency and pathology is hard to follow. Could you simplify it for us?”
His tone was cautious, fearing he might offend her and risk her refusing treatment.
The Xiong family was overthinking. Qin Chaoyu wasn’t petty or narrow-minded, and this was no reason for anger.
Her obscure phrasing wasn’t intentional—it was a habit from her medical practice.
Early in her career, she often saw her mentor diagnose patients with complex terms, leaving them bewildered. When she asked why he spoke so cryptically to patients who couldn’t understand, he explained: sounding profound made patients trust his expertise. If he simply prescribed medicine outright, they might doubt him. This was an unavoidable tactic.
Over time, she adopted the habit, and later, she cherished it as a memory of her mentor’s influence.
Reminded by the Xiong family, Qin Chaoyu realized this wasn’t a typical house call. She smiled apologetically, then confidently declared, “In simple terms—it’s treatable!”
“Really?!” Xiong Lunbing, a seasoned businessman known for his composure, gasped in shock.
Xiong Bochang, Xiong Rongming, and Xiong Yunhan were equally stunned, their eyes fixed on Qin Chaoyu, their gazes burning with hope.
Qin Chaoyu nodded firmly. “You can trust me. I never make empty promises. If I say it with certainty, I mean it. Mrs. Xiong’s condition can be treated!”
“Wonderful!” Xiong Yunhan’s eyes welled up, but she held back her tears, not wanting to lose composure in front of others.
Xiong Rongming, the eleven-year-old, had no such reservations. He burst into loud sobs, his face red and tear-streaked, looking pitiful yet finally like a lively child instead of the prematurely aged, hopeless boy he’d seemed.
His outburst startled the family but also eased their tension, bringing them back to reality. They couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried—he’d always been mature beyond his years.
His tears stirred their hearts. Xiong Yunhan hugged him, soothing him softly.
Xiong Lunbing and Xiong Bochang watched with concern, but the former, as the family head, refocused. “Apologies, Dr. Qin. Let’s return to the matter of my wife.”
They assumed Xiong Rongming cried from joy, but Qin Chaoyu shook her head, her gaze understanding. “I’ll do my best for Mrs. Xiong, but I need your cooperation. Had you consulted a skilled TCM doctor earlier, her condition wouldn’t have worsened. Western medicine treated the symptoms, not the root cause, and even altered her condition subtly. In TCM, such changes matter greatly. Now, she’s a hair’s breadth from death.”
Her expression darkened with disapproval at their earlier choices.
Xiong Lunbing looked ashamed, aging visibly. “This is my fault. I didn’t believe in TCM initially, so I only sought Western treatment. When it failed, I turned to TCM, but by then, it was too late.”
His remorse softened Qin Chaoyu’s tone. “What’s done is done. Now, let me outline what you must do.”
The family listened intently, some even recording her words.
“You’ll need to massage Mrs. Xiong morning and evening to speed her recovery. The techniques differ by time and require specific pressure. This is my school’s unique method—complex and rarely known. I can teach you, or you can designate one person to learn.”
Xiong Bochang quickly said, “We’ll learn! We’re confident we can master it!” He nudged Xiong Yunhan, who echoed, “Yes, we can!”
Xiong Rongming, now calmer, eagerly raised his hand. “I want to learn too! I can massage Mom!” His earnestness was endearing.
Proud of his children’s dedication, Xiong Lunbing assured Qin Chaoyu, “They’re clever and filial. They’ll learn.”
“Good. I’ll demonstrate later, noting the pressure, technique, and repetitions. Record it if needed, but practice on dummies or yourselves first. Mistakes won’t harm, but your mother’s fragility leaves no room for error.”
With their solemn nods, she continued, “I’ll write a prescription. Prepare the herbs and administer them twice daily.”
Anticipating her need, Xiong Bochang fetched paper and pen. Qin Chaoyu scribbled the prescription and handed it to Xiong Lunbing.
“Now, I’ll perform the first acupuncture session. Please wait outside.”
Though reluctant, the family prepared to leave—until a group of aggressive intruders stormed in, appearing to be another family.
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