Chinese Medicine: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 602: Chapter 602: Rule of Law

"This is... Yin-Yang Exchange."

Li Xu mulled it over for a moment before giving his diagnosis.

"Yin-Yang Exchange?"

The person who spoke was none other than Director Zhu.

His voice was filled with surprise, and a slight tremor.

"That’s right. Yin-Yang Exchange."

Li Xu nodded and recited from the *Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor*’s "Discourse on Appraising Febrile Diseases": "If a patient with a febrile disease sweats, but the fever returns, and their pulse is agitated and rapid, not weakening despite the sweat, and they speak deliriously and cannot eat, the illness is named Yin-Yang Exchange..."

"’The fever returns after sweating’ means that after perspiring, the fever doesn’t just fail to subside, it actually gets higher."

"’Agitated and rapid pulse’ means the pulse is racing and erratic, indicating that the righteous qi is nearly depleted while the pathogenic qi is flourishing."

"’Delirious speech’ refers to mental confusion and restless agitation."

"’Inability to eat’ indicates the collapse of the stomach qi."

Director Zhu’s son exhibited nearly all of these symptoms.

The color drained from Director Zhu’s face, leaving it ashen white.

As the director of the Health Commission, he was no layman.

In his youth, he had been a top student who graduated from a legitimate university of traditional Chinese medicine. Even though he later went into politics, he still had the fundamentals.

Therefore, when Li Xu spoke the three words "Yin-Yang Exchange," his worst fears were confirmed.

In TCM’s study of febrile diseases, this is considered a "corrupted case."

There’s an old saying in the world of Chinese medicine: It’s better to treat a severe case than a corrupted one.

A severe case progresses ferociously, but there’s still a method to treating it.

A corrupted case, however, has been thrown into chaos by previous treatments. The righteous qi is depleted, pathogenic qi has penetrated deep within, and yin and yang are on the verge of separating. It is exceptionally difficult to treat.

The passage Li Xu had just recited actually had two more words at the end. He hadn’t said them out loud, but everyone present who understood Chinese medicine knew them clearly.

And they were—"Exchange means death."

It meant that the qi of yin and yang were knotted together, unable to be resolved. Righteous qi could not overcome the pathogenic, and the essential qi would be extinguished. It was a death sentence.

"Dean Li..."

Director Zhu’s voice trembled. He stared intently at Li Xu as if awaiting a final verdict. "Are you saying... there’s nothing to be done?"

"Is it... fatal?"

In that moment, he was no longer an imposing director, but simply a father on the verge of losing his son.

A dead silence fell over the hospital room.

Dean Song and Lin Guorui both lowered their heads, unable to meet Director Zhu’s eyes.

Speaking with someone in the know was both efficient and cruel.

There was no need for lengthy explanations. That single word, "death," hung over their heads like a sharp sword.

Hu Qiming stood to one side, his brow slightly furrowed.

’Yin-Yang Exchange?’

The name of this illness was somewhat obscure to him.

He’d studied the *Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor*, but he had almost never encountered such a critical condition in clinical practice—it was something that seemed to exist only in ancient texts.

Still, he could feel the life-or-death gravity contained within the term.

"Clinically, Yin-Yang Exchange manifests in two ways. The first is caused by prolonged high fever depleting the yin fluids, which results in yin failing to restrain yang, allowing deficient yang to escape. The second is a sudden collapse of Yang Qi, where the body’s qi mechanism can no longer contain it."

Li Xu looked at the patient and continued his analysis. "Judging from his current pulse and symptoms, the patient falls into the second category: ’escaping Yang Qi that the body’s qi mechanism cannot contain.’ His floating, large, and forceful pulse is a classic sign of Yang Qi floating to the surface while the true yin is depleted internally. And the ceaseless sweating shows that the qi is failing to astringe the body’s fluids."

"Fortunately..." Li Xu paused. "Though the patient is delirious, he can still consume liquids. He hasn’t reached the dire point of ’inability to eat’."

Hearing this, Director Zhu’s taut nerves loosened ever so slightly.

Chinese medicine has a saying: "Where there is stomach qi, there is life; without stomach qi, there is death."

As long as the patient could still eat, even a single mouthful of rice soup, it meant his stomach qi remained. The post-heaven foundation was not yet broken, leaving a window of opportunity for treatment.

"Dean Li, just tell me what to do."

Director Zhu said in a low voice, a newfound trust in his eyes, "What do you need from us?"

Li Xu considered for a moment. "Since the pathology is escaping Yang Qi and the separation of yin and yang, the principle of treatment must be to unblock the yang to engage the yin, guide the yang back into the yin, allow the qi to be contained, and enable the body’s fluids to be preserved."

"We can try the ’Yiyuan Decoction’ from *Zhang’s Medical Compendium*, with the addition of pig bile."

"Dean Li, please write the prescription."

Director Zhu said decisively, without a moment’s hesitation.

Li Xu was taken aback for a second, then nodded.

Director Zhu’s quick agreement was somewhat surprising.

In reality, when doctors explain a condition to a patient’s family, it’s often not to show off their knowledge, but to persuade them.

Especially when facing a life-threatening illness like this, the prescriptions often involve "risky formulas" and "potent medicines."

If the family doesn’t understand or trust the doctor, it’s difficult for them to proceed without reservation.

But now, Li Xu’s reputation preceded him, and that, combined with his recent analysis, had completely convinced Director Zhu.

More importantly, Li Xu had laid it all out on the table—this was a "corrupted case," and it was extremely dangerous.

With his back against the wall, Director Zhu—both as a father and as someone in the know—understood better than anyone that every single second was precious.

’Transfer him to the provincial capital?’

’Putting aside the rough journey, what if something happened on the way? Or what if the hospital in the provincial capital refused to admit him? That would be true despair.’

To find a Chinese medicine doctor who could save a life—and dared to try—was a matter of luck, a matter of fate.

"Director Zhu, let’s try this prescription first."

Li Xu quickly wrote out the prescription on a pad and handed it to Director Zhu.

Director Zhu accepted it with both hands, his eyes sweeping over the lines of text:

"60g processed black aconite (decoct first), 12g dried ginger, 9g baked licorice, 15g Ophiopogon, 6g Schisandra, 10g American Ginseng (stew separately), 9g toasted Mugwort Leaf..."

"Additional instructions: Take the bile from one pig gallbladder and mix it into the decoction in three separate doses. Add a few drops of Tongbian (a young boy’s urine) as a primer..."

’This prescription...’

Director Zhu’s heart pounded in his chest as he read it.

’Sixty grams of processed black aconite.’

’That’s a massive dose.’

’And then there were "folk remedies" like pig bile and a young boy’s urine...’

But he didn’t voice any doubts. He simply handed the prescription to Dean Song behind him. "Dean Song, have the pharmacy fill this. It needs to be decocted immediately. Be quick."

"Right away!"

Dean Song took the prescription and turned to see to it personally.

...

While they waited for the herbs to be decocted, the atmosphere in the hospital room remained heavy.

Director Zhu excused himself to use the restroom, stepped out of the ward, and entered an empty resuscitation room next door.

He took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Professor Zhang, it’s Zhu Benxing."

The call connected.

"Ah, Zhu. What can I do for you?"

A gentle voice replied from the other end of the line.

It was Professor Zhang, a tenured professor and doctoral advisor at the Provincial University of Traditional Chinese Medicine.

He had also been Director Zhu’s teacher during his graduate studies.

In the province’s Chinese medicine community, he was a giant in the field.

Though Director Zhu now held a high-ranking position, in front of his former teacher, he was still just a student seeking guidance.

"Professor, it’s like this..."

With time being of the essence, Director Zhu dispensed with the pleasantries and cut straight to the chase, explaining his son’s condition in detail.

"At first, I thought it was just a common fever. He was at the City People’s Hospital for half a month with no improvement, so we transferred him to the Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine today. The doctor here examined him and diagnosed it as ’Yin-Yang Exchange.’ I feel his analysis is sound, and if it really is Yin-Yang Exchange, then this is incredibly dangerous..."

"Tell me the boy’s specific symptoms again, along with that doctor’s analysis."

Professor Zhang’s voice had also grown serious. "The more detailed, the better."

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