Chapter 36: The Quack Harmed People

Seeing that John's expression was serious and his eyes unwavering, the woman realized she had misunderstood him. She replied solemnly, "My daughter said she was cold."

Cold?

How could she feel cold when she clearly had a high fever?

Frowning, John stepped forward and said gently, "Madam, would you mind if I check your daughter's condition by feeling her pulse?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

This was her daughter's life they were talking about—she had to be cautious. Having one more doctor examine her child meant one more chance at a proper diagnosis, one more layer of reassurance.

John gently placed his fingers on the girl's wrist.

"Her pulse is large," he muttered, "but it's hollow and weak… Her body shows signs of high fever, yet she says she feels cold..."

Holding her index finger carefully, John continued, his tone turning grave. "Her illness wasn't caused by heat, but by cold."

Cold?

The patients gathered in Feazer Medical Clinic immediately burst into laughter.

"Haha! Young man, are you joking? Her forehead is burning up. How could you possibly say it's a cold-related illness? That's ridiculous!"

"Exactly! Doctor Lynn already said it's a heat-based fever. Are you saying your medical skills surpass his?"

"Hahaha! This guy is hilarious."

Although none of the onlookers were trained in medicine, they trusted their eyes—and to them, it was obvious. Anyone could see the girl was feverish.

Claiming it was a cold illness? This man was clearly bluffing.

The woman's face darkened with anger. "Do you even know medicine? Don't make a reckless diagnosis. What if something happens to my daughter? Can you take responsibility?"

Faced with a choice between trusting John or Doctor Lynn, she clearly leaned toward the latter.

At that moment, Doctor Lynn let out a cold snort and sneered, "An apprentice who's barely begun to study medicine dares question my diagnosis? What was Tracy thinking, hiring someone like you?"

From the moment John had requested to recheck the girl's pulse, Doctor Lynn had been quietly seething. He hadn't spoken up immediately, wanting instead to see what this newcomer could possibly come up with.

But the moment John announced a diagnosis contradicting his own, Doctor Lynn took it as open defiance.

"Ah, so he's just a new apprentice? No wonder he's so disrespectful. How could his skills compare to Doctor Lynn's?"

"Young man, let me give you some advice—don't speak unless you know what you're talking about. Giving a wrong diagnosis is disgraceful!"

"Hmph! Doctor Lynn is the proud disciple of the renowned Master Holbrook Davis! Who do you think you are? You're not even worthy of licking Doctor Lynn's boots!"

"Young people these days just want attention!"

Now that the crowd knew John was a novice, their jeers grew even bolder and more contemptuous.

"Shut up!"

John's sudden, thunderous shout silenced the room. His fierce gaze swept over the crowd.

"Who told you that disciples of so-called 'national medical masters' can never make mistakes? Are they gods, immune to error? Do they not bleed like any other man? Where did you get such a foolish illusion?"

The room fell into stunned silence.

John turned sharply toward Doctor Lynn and demanded, "If the yin is hyperactive within the body, but the symptoms appear yang on the surface—what does that tell you?"

Bang!

Doctor Lynn staggered backward, startled by John's forceful presence. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

'The hyperactivity of yin fills the whole body inside, but it shows yang symptoms outside'—this was a known concept in traditional Chinese medicine. It referred to a condition where cold energy amassed internally while heat symptoms presented externally. It was known as "True Cold Disease with False Heat Manifestation", or in some schools, "Excessive Yin Causing Floating of Yang" or "Predomination of Yin Rejecting Yang."

Patients with such a condition often had a weak pulse and a pale tongue. They shivered and craved warmth, yet appeared feverish. They felt intense thirst, but could not tolerate much water.

These were precisely the symptoms the girl was showing.

But this condition was rare, and Doctor Lynn had overlooked it.

Even now, instead of admitting his mistake, Doctor Lynn growled, "Nonsense! I have no idea what you're babbling about!"

The crowd had just begun to waver in their judgment after hearing John's explanation. But upon hearing Doctor Lynn's outright denial, their doubts returned.

If even Doctor Lynn had never heard of such a thing, it had to be fake—right?

John's expression turned cold with disappointment. "You're a quack! A disgrace to the medical profession."

If Doctor Lynn had simply admitted his mistake, it wouldn't have been such a big deal. After all, medicine is a field of learning and growth. Every doctor makes mistakes—what matters is how they respond to them.

But this man?

He had chosen his ego over a little girl's life.

He didn't deserve the title of doctor.

"Who the hell are you calling a quack?" Doctor Lynn bellowed, furious.

"Quack." John repeated the word, crisp and clear.

"What did you say?!"

"Quack."

Doctor Lynn trembled with rage, ready to pounce—but when he saw the look in John's eyes, the raw confidence and unshakable presence, he hesitated.

John turned away from him and addressed the worried mother. "Madam, your daughter must not take the White Tiger Decoction. Allow me to prescribe a new remedy."

"I said she can take it!" Doctor Lynn barked.

But before he could say another word—smack!

A loud slap rang through the clinic.

"Fuck you."

John had slapped Doctor Lynn so hard he was knocked off balance.

He had finally lost his temper.

Doctor Lynn had nearly sentenced a child to death, all to protect his pride.

That wasn't just arrogance. That was malice. A man like him deserved no mercy.

John didn't even spare him another glance. He turned to the girl and knelt beside her.

He had already seen the danger.

While checking her index finger earlier, he had observed the telltale signs. In traditional medicine, a child's index finger veins are divided into three gates—Wind, Qi, and Life—moving outward. The further the visible vein extends, the more severe the illness.

In this girl's case, the vein had reached the final gate—the Gate of Life, right up to the fingertip.

This was known as "The Extension of Visible Veins through All the Bars to the Nail."

It was an extremely dangerous indicator.

If she took the White Tiger Decoction, she wouldn't make it.

She would die.