Recently, Yuzhou Hospital has been receiving excellent reviews.
To accommodate patients who cannot afford expensive medical bills or wait for specialist consultations, the hospital has specially arranged for a traditional Chinese medicine expert to treat them.
This expert not only possesses exceptional diagnostic skills but also prescribes affordable and effective herbal remedies. Though the medicines are inexpensive, their efficacy is remarkable—patients who follow the prescribed treatment often recover completely within one course.
Word quickly spread about this expert, and soon, patients were scrambling to book appointments with her.
However, securing a slot afterward became increasingly difficult.
That’s right—this expert is Qin Chaoyu. The results she achieves today are the fruit of immense time and effort. Though the journey has been arduous, the outcomes are deeply rewarding.
Even if some still doubt her due to her youthful appearance, she now has supporters who stand by her. That alone makes it all worthwhile.
—
“Dr. Qin, whenever it rains, my back and joints ache terribly. It’s been twenty years—can it really be cured? Honestly, I didn’t want to come. At my age, I don’t have many years left anyway. But the pain has gotten so bad that I can’t even get out of bed now. I’m not asking for much—just some medicine to ease the pain, so I can live my remaining years more comfortably,” said an elderly woman with silver hair, her voice hoarse and weary.
The woman wore simple, well-worn clothes, frayed at the edges and faded with age. Yet, despite their condition, her attire was neat and tidy.
“Of course it can be cured!” A young boy standing nearby answered firmly, his eyes brimming with admiration and trust for Qin Chaoyu.
Qin Chaoyu chuckled and shook her head. She withdrew her fingers from the elderly woman’s pulse, stood up, and walked over to reassure her. “Granny Qiu, don’t worry. Let me examine your back first.”
“Ah, yes, yes,” the old woman replied shakily.
Qin Chaoyu carefully pressed several key acupoints along Granny Qiu’s lower back, asking about her sensations until she confirmed the diagnosis. Then, she returned to her seat.
As she wrote the prescription, she explained, “Granny Qiu, this is rheumatism. Because it’s been untreated for so long, it’s worsened. I’ll prescribe two remedies—one for drinking, twice a day, and another for topical application, once daily. Together, they’ll ensure you live comfortably from now on.”
After finishing the prescription, she handed it to Granny Qiu, who accepted it gratefully and tucked it carefully into her pocket before reaching for her cane to leave.
Qin Chaoyu moved to assist her, but the boy from earlier was quicker. Despite his small, frail frame—barely 1.5 meters tall—he had surprising strength. Granny Qiu, though emaciated from years of illness, still weighed over fifty kilograms. Yet the boy supported her effortlessly, even when she leaned heavily on him to stand.
Granny Qiu exhaled deeply once upright, gripping her cane. “Oh, this child is so strong! Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to get up.”
Muttering to herself, she shuffled toward the door, the boy escorting her outside before returning to his spot.
Qin Chaoyu sighed. “Xiao Zhi, you really don’t have to do this. You’re just a child—you should be playing with friends. It’s Saturday; why not go enjoy yourself?”
The boy shook his head stubbornly. “Dr. Qin, I won’t change my mind. Helping here feels more meaningful and fulfilling than playing. My grandma would’ve supported me too.”
Having witnessed his maturity over time, Qin Chaoyu didn’t press further. “At least take a seat. Standing all day is exhausting.”
Relieved, the boy—You Yingzhi—quickly fetched a stool and settled in a corner.
He was the grandson of one of Qin Chaoyu’s patients. Months ago, his grandmother had suffered a severe stroke. With no phone or money for an ambulance, Yingzhi had sprinted to the hospital in desperation. By sheer luck, he’d been directed to Qin Chaoyu, who saved his grandmother’s life.
Since then, despite her limited recovery, Yingzhi had devoted his weekends to assisting elderly patients in Qin Chaoyu’s clinic—his way of repaying her kindness.
Qin Chaoyu admired his resilience but worried about his burdens. She often slipped him food, knowing outright financial help would wound his pride.
At noon, after her last patient, she stretched and said, “Xiao Zhi, you’ve worked hard all morning. Let me treat you to lunch.”
Yingzhi hesitated. “Dr. Qin, I should go home—”
She ruffled his hair. “None of that. If you refuse, I’ll be heartbroken. Besides, I enjoy your company. You’re such a thoughtful boy.”
Blushing, he finally nodded. “Th-thank you, Dr. Qin.”
—
A month later, on a Saturday afternoon, Qin Chaoyu finished her consultations and realized Yingzhi hadn’t shown up—unprecedented since he’d started volunteering.
Worried, she packed her medical kit and hurried to his home in the impoverished urban village behind the hospital.
The dilapidated house’s rusted door was unlocked. “Xiao Zhi?” she called, stepping into the silent courtyard.
No answer.
Then, a small figure burst from the house and crashed into her, sobbing uncontrollably.
Qin Chaoyu held him tightly as he wailed, “I hate that man! He killed Grandma! She’s—she’s gone!”
Her heart sank. Stroking his back, she let him cry. Words were useless now.
But one thing was certain: the boy who’d lost his only family needed her more than ever.
What would become of him?
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