Although his comparison method was crude, it was quite fair given the current conditions, and Zhang Dadan naturally had no objections.
"Alright. Let’s start with me!" Zhang Dadan responded and gave Zheng Yueyang the first chance.
Zheng Yueyang was also very polite. He stood up directly and walked to the hall manager, assisting him to start taking his pulse.
After a while, Zheng Yueyang relaxed the hall manager’s wrist and confidently said, "I have diagnosed it. Now it’s your turn to show your skills!"
Then he sat on the sofa, and the hall manager’s illness was diagnosed—what kind of disease he had.
Zhang Dadan shook his head slightly, walked to the hall manager, did not assist him, but stared at him carefully, then sat back.
The hall manager saw that he did not move. Was he willing to give up?
The onlookers, seeing this situation, repeatedly shook their heads, feeling sorry for Zhang Dadan.
Of course, they had no confidence in Zhang Dadan, but they thought he had lost too quickly and thoroughly, which was a bit boring!
After the hall manager’s illness diagnosis, Zheng Yueyang waited for 32 minutes and asked, "How’s it going? Are you done writing?"
Zhang Yong listened to the flying words and smiled, "Well done! Let’s compare our notes."
"Okay! I’ll see what you wrote about it." Zheng Yueyang responded, then stood in front of Zhang Dadan.
The two exchanged phones and checked each other’s descriptions of the illness. Zheng Yueyang saw that Zhang Dadan had written "liver cirrhosis, loss of appetite, constant fatigue, bloating!"
"You... how did you know it’s cirrhosis?" Zheng Yueyang looked at Zhang Dadan in disbelief, eagerly asking.
Before Dadan could answer, the hall manager rushed forward and said, "Mr. Zheng, this... is really miraculous! I... I indeed have cirrhosis. I just checked it last week."
Hearing the hall manager’s confirmation, the surrounding visitors were shocked. This young man really spotted the hall manager’s illness.
He just looked at the hall manager, and without continuous pulse reading, he could confirm his symptoms. This is... amazing?
"Wow! This is what you call a Miracle Doctor. Doctor..." Boss Huang Guanghuang exclaimed without reservation.
For these reactions, Zhang Dadan didn’t care. He returned the phone to Zheng Yueyang, praising, "Yes! It was a pulse that indicated cirrhosis."
He was harsh with his praise, having studied medicine for over 20 years and practiced for more than a decade. How could he compare with a twenty-something kid?
No way! As he looked at the hall manager, he could only see his illness. Could a blind cat really catch a dead mouse?
"Hmph! We both diagnosed correctly. This round doesn’t count!" Zheng Yueyang denied, a bit annoyed.
Seeing him acting like he was faking it, the audience began to mock more and more openly, with Bald criticizing him more.
"No? You took a long time reading the pulse. He just looked at it. Who could see that?"
Zheng Yueyang had studied medicine for over 20 years, still full of confidence in his TCM talents. How could he be defeated by an unknown kid today?
"What do you know? I said we should try again. Is anyone willing to stand up for both of us to diagnose?" Zheng Yueyang shouted.
Boss Huang stood up, not wanting to see the young bullied, refusing to admit defeat. He spoke up unjustly, "I’ll be next! You both diagnose me!"
The onlookers saw someone step up and cheered, "Great! Let him lose his mind."
Within just a dozen minutes, the onlookers completely took Zhang Dadan’s side, as strength is always the best weapon to conquer the world!
Before staring at the path of TCM and becoming a renowned Master Xing Shu, Zheng Yueyang had studied medicine for over 20 years.
Upon hearing Zhang Dadan called a Miracle Doctor, he naturally thought he was a world-class con artist.
But now, the reality showed that Zhang Dadan was not only a TCM practitioner but an exceptionally smart one, seemingly superior to him. Thɪs chapter is updated by ɴovᴇl_Firᴇ.ɴet
How could such a proud and arrogant man accept this feeling? Coupled with the audience’s cheers, it only made it harder for him to bear.
"Zhang Gan, dare you try again?" Zheng Yueyang challenged Zhang Dadan emotionally.
Nowadays, with the decline of TCM, more and more people were skeptical, even describing it as a trick to fake spirituality.
But this Zheng Yueyang, who could diagnose liver cirrhosis from the hall manager’s pulse, had some skill, so Dadan didn’t want to embarrass him too much.
But facing Zheng Yueyang’s pressing moves, Zhang Dadan was unwilling to give up. He didn’t care about the doctor’s myth, but he couldn’t stand seeing a doctor—especially a brilliant TCM practitioner—lose self-respect, pride, and arrogance.
As a doctor, whether in TCM or Western medicine, you should have a benevolent heart rather than compete out of jealousy.
"You want to do better than me, right? I’ll fulfill your wish!" Zhang Dadan looked at Zheng Yueyang solemnly.
Looking at the bustling guests, Zhang Dadan decisively responded to the challenge, fueling more excitement, and even some whistled.
The hall manager, seeing the uproar, had no choice but to disperse them, one by one trying to appease them.
Bald boss provocatively looked at the hall manager, walked to Zheng Yueyang, and stretched out his wrist, "Please proceed!"
Zheng Yueyang turned his head, fearlessly facing Zhang Dadan. He took Boss Huang’s wrist to start reading his pulse.
Although fiercely competitive, he seriously read Boss Huang’s pulse, eyes slightly closed, carefully exploring it.
However, after three to five minutes of exploration, he found no issues with Boss Huang, just some disharmony between the stomach and spleen.
With such a simple condition, Zhang Dadan should be able to detect it too. Then how could they differentiate a winner?
Boss seemed fine. Why did he stand up? Trying to out-show their skills!
"Alright! I’ve found the issue and solved it." Zheng Yueyang grimly released Boss Huang’s wrist.
Seeing his dejected face, the boss laughed contemptuously, boldly walking to Zhang.
As he stepped forward, Zhang Dadan laughed, "Yes! I see your problem too."
Another diagnosis? Zheng Yueyang’s face changed, trembling slightly. Was this sorcery?
The hall manager’s cirrhosis was severe—perhaps visible from his complexion.
But the disharmony between the stomach and spleen was a common minor issue without obvious signs. Could he spot it with just a glance?
The audience, unaware of the mystery, grew feverish seeing Zhang Dadan diagnose understandingly.
"Alright... now diagnose again, and we’ll compare." Zheng Yueyang reluctantly agreed.
Zhang Dadan, seeing his persistent heart, took out his phone to note his diagnosis.