Zhou Jiande was actually quite composed.
Lu Xuan, at just over twenty years old, joining the United South Chinese Medicine Association as a practitioner, indeed took him by surprise.
But after the initial shock, he, being in his sixties, returned to calm.
However, Zhou Jiande’s two students couldn’t maintain his composure.
Upon hearing that Lu Xuan was actually a consulting doctor, the two exchanged glances, feeling somewhat skeptical about life.
After all, they were four to five years older than Lu Xuan!
Even now, they were still assistants to Dr. Zhou. Forget about being a consulting doctor; they doubted they would reach the level required to practice at the United South Chinese Medicine Association in the next four to five years, perhaps at some district Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospitals, though.
For a moment, the two were utterly dejected.
Meanwhile, the patient being treated by Zhou Jiande was also taken aback, unable to shut her legs in surprise.
She initially thought Lu Xuan was seeking acupuncture from Dr. Zhou, not expecting him to be a consulting doctor at the United South Chinese Medicine Association.
The key thing was, he was so young.
Frankly, she’d been to the United South Chinese Medicine Association more than once or twice.
She’s had acupuncture, and seen those skilled in traditional Chinese internal medicine. The youngest among them was probably in their forties; having someone in their twenties as a consulting doctor was something she was hearing for the first time.
Truly astonishing.
"Since Dr. Lu studied internal medicine, how come I’ve heard he also dabbles in acupuncture?"
Zhou Jiande could tell that Lu Xuan’s knowledge of acupuncture far exceeded the little he claimed, but as Lu Xuan fundamentally studied traditional Chinese internal medicine, Zhou Jiande found it hard to believe he could be equally proficient in acupuncture.
A person’s energy is finite; mastering the essentials of traditional Chinese internal medicine is already an exceedingly impressive feat, especially for someone so young.
Moreover, even if he were proficient in acupuncture, one had to admit that traditional Chinese internal medicine is obviously much more difficult than acupuncture.
Faced with Zhou Jiande, Lu Xuan had no intention of hiding, so he nodded and admitted: "Recently, I’ve indeed been exploring some aspects of it, but when it comes to technique, I’m still far from Elder Zhou."
Zhou Jiande neither agreed nor disagreed because he’d been immersed in acupuncture for thirty to forty years. If his technique wasn’t better than Lu Xuan, he felt he could retire in peace.
It wasn’t that Zhou Jiande was arrogant, but in the field of acupuncture, there were likely very few nationwide who could best him.
In this matter, Lu Xuan naturally wasn’t included.
However, when it came to diagnosis and treatment principles, and understanding of acupoints, Zhou Jiande dared not be overconfident.
Lu Xuan’s recent display was something he remembered well.
Plus, as an expert in traditional Chinese internal medicine, Lu Xuan was definitely not lacking in diagnosis skills. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been invited to the United South Chinese Medicine Association.
This was something Zhou Jiande was very aware of.
"Just right, I have two patients left to treat; would you like to come? I could observe, and we could compare notes," Zhou Jiande extended an invitation as he wished to see Lu Xuan’s techniques and diagnostic skills.
There are many traditional Chinese medicine doctors at the United South Chinese Medicine Association, but few who studied acupuncture.
Even if there were, their studies were limited, focusing mostly on traditional Chinese internal medicine rather than acupuncture. People knew one’s time is limited—achieving something in a single field is already quite difficult; mastering two is highly challenging and may result in mediocrity, better to excel in one area.
He’s a typical example of this.
Since he first got involved with Chinese medicine, he’s only practiced acupuncture.
And it is precisely because of this that he’s achieved his current accomplishments.
"Is that okay?"
When asking this, Lu Xuan was already somewhat tempted. It wasn’t that he wanted to try his hand, as he’d been going to the Ninth Hospital every day to treat stroke patients, and the initial excitement had worn off. Levelling up through battle was necessary, though.
What’s harder is, when practicing a sword technique, self-training is insufficient; one needs a teacher.
Even though traditional medicine could guide him, acupuncture techniques weren’t something easily explained; they often required hands-on guidance.
Zhou Jiande was, in essence, like a Sword Path Grandmaster.
Lu Xuan would never pass on such a good opportunity.
But since patients came for Zhou Jiande, his interference might cause discomfort for them.
Zhou Jiande looked at him: "There’s nothing wrong with it."
However, as he spoke, a middle-aged man waiting there looked troubled: "Dr. Zhou, is this really okay?"
The middle-aged man was cautious not to sound too harsh, speaking carefully, lest he offended Zhou Jiande.
No matter what, patients often feared offending their attending physicians, worrying the doctor might not take their case seriously or might hinder them at a critical time, or even mislead them after feeling slighted.
Of course, some patients weren’t afraid of offending their doctors.
If this doctor couldn’t help, they’d simply switch doctors, sometimes even changing hospitals wasn’t unheard of.
By saying this, the middle-aged man was clearly not confident in the young Lu Xuan.
This brings up a vital point.
Preconceived notions.
In the vast majority of people’s eyes, skilled traditional Chinese doctors are usually at least fifty or sixty years old, if not elderly figures with white hair, and the longer-lived old practitioners earn greater respect.