C75 Tcm

"Yeah, I lied to you," Westley said with a grin.

His smile was unabashed, his face etched with scorn.

Christine was so furious that she shook with rage. Her gaze bore into Westley, laden with loathing.

She resembled a young lioness, poised to leap and bite at any moment.

"Why would you lie to me? What's in it for you?" Christine asked, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"It doesn't benefit me, but it's to your advantage," Westley replied, casually crossing his legs.

Christine was taken aback.

She had encountered shameless individuals before, but never one quite this brazen.

He was blatantly lying, and yet he claimed it was for her own good?

"How did you figure out I was lying?" Westley inquired.

"This prescription you gave me is for treating menstrual disorders in women," Christine declared emphatically.

"And how did you come to know that?" Westley pressed.

"Most people are familiar with motherwort. These herbs are associated with women's health," Christine explained.

"Excellent. That confirms you have some understanding of the basic principles of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM). But I recall you dismissing TCM as worthless, so you really shouldn't put any stock in these remedies," Westley said, his eyes narrowing.

Christine was at a loss for words.

If she didn't understand TCM or believe in it, why was she so convinced that Westley's prescription was solely for women's ailments?

"The beauty of TCM is that when ordinary people fall ill, they know some basic formulas to address their symptoms. So, in terms of public knowledge, who do you think has the upper hand?" Westley posed the question.

"Just because TCM is widely accepted doesn't mean it's necessarily effective," Christine countered.

"Then answer me this: was there anything inaccurate about the symptoms I described for you?" Westley challenged.

Christine was speechless.

Westley's diagnosis had been spot on.

"Using Western medicine, could you have identified the condition?" Westley continued.

After a long pause, Christine bit her lip and admitted, "I couldn't."

Western medicine relies on identifying a disease from a specific set of symptoms.

Despite undergoing various tests, Christine had been unable to pinpoint the cause of her illness, and even her teacher had been at a loss to explain it.

"But I can!" Westley insisted. "The essence of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) lies in observation, listening, inquiry, and pulse-taking—these are the four fundamental skills. An experienced physician can diagnose a patient's ailment based on the slightest gesture, no matter how complex the condition may be."

Westley continued, "TCM places greater emphasis on treating the root cause of an illness. The human body is wondrous, equipped with a near-perfect self-healing and immune system."

"Therefore, our sagacious ancestors devised methods to clear blood stasis as a way to cure diseases. Isn't that both fascinating and wise?"

Christine remained silent, but her eyes sparkled with interest, absorbing his words with the earnestness of a student in a lecture.

Westley smiled, "I'm not saying Western medicine is inferior. In fact, it's often synonymous with efficiency and precision. However, our traditional methods can have incredibly potent healing effects. Both systems have their merits; there's no need for competition."

Christine's eyes brightened at the thought.

"TCM and Western medicine can complement each other. Looking at health issues from a different perspective could open up a whole new realm of possibilities," Westley stated with gravity.

"I understand now!" Christine stood and bowed deeply to Westley in a gesture of respect.

"Do you really?" Westley asked, intrigued.

"I grasp your point. But you've deceived me, and I won't let that go so easily," she said with a mischievous grin.

"You're welcome to seek your revenge anytime," Westley replied with a chuckle.

"Still, my earlier promise stands. I'm off to request a three-month leave from my teacher," Christine declared before stepping out of the house.

Watching her leave with a joyous bounce in her step, Westley couldn't help but muse on the vivacity of youth, the very essence of a young girl emanating from her.

As he turned away from his admiration, he caught Elder Lambert's knowing gaze.

Feeling a twinge of conscience, he said, "Elder Lambert, please don't hold it against me. I did it to help."

Elder Lambert's smile widened. "Mr. Jimenez, I'm well aware of your good intentions. After all, you did reveal the truth to me in the end."

It was clear Elder Lambert saw right through him.

"Without you, she might have continued to view TCM with the same skepticism. You've truly become a great benefactor to the Lambert family."

After Elder Lambert finished speaking, he bowed once again.

Westley's scalp tingled, and he quickly gestured with his hand, "Elder Lambert, if you continue like this, I fear I won't be able to recover the years of life I've lost today."

Elder Lambert chuckled at his remark, then inquired, "Mr. Jimenez, you were joking, of course. But I'm curious, what exactly are the Ice Soul Grass and the Soul Returning Flower you mentioned earlier?"

He certainly had a good memory.

Westley replied, "There's no need to delve into the specifics of those two herbs. What I want to know is, do you have any particularly old medicine in your apothecary?"

Elder Lambert pondered for a moment before responding, "Mr. Jimenez, please give me a moment."

With that, he rose and hurried off.

Before long, he returned, carrying an antique box.

Westley examined the box, noting its simple, traditional design, adorned with dragon and phoenix carvings. The brass locks, clearly from an ancient era, bore the patina of age.

Elder Lambert remained silent, his expression one of solemn reverence as he carefully unlocked the box with trembling hands to reveal its contents.

Inside lay an exceedingly rare plant nestled on a bed of red silk.

What made it so rare?

The plant was palm-sized, with three leaves and a light purple flower at the tip, its heart featuring a perfectly symmetrical hexagonal pattern.

Despite the passage of time, the plant's form was nearly pristine, its details sharp and distinct.

Upon opening the box, a delicate fragrance wafted out, infusing the room with a sweet, refined air.

Westley was visibly moved by the scent.

"Such a potent aroma; this must indeed be a treasure of the earth," he murmured, his expression subtly shifting.

"Mr. Jimenez, this plant was bestowed upon my ancestors by the previous dynasty's emperor as a reward," Elder Lambert explained. "The Lambert family has treasured it as a heirloom ever since, with each generation charged with its safekeeping, and now it has come into my possession."

He paused, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. "However, this herb is quite peculiar. I've scoured the herbal compendiums and various plant encyclopedias, even sought the expertise of renowned botanists, yet its origins remain a mystery."

Westley chuckled to himself.

This is a spiritual herb; naturally, you wouldn't recognize it.

"I'm not sure if this herb will be of any benefit to Mr. Jimenez. But at the very least, it's certainly aged enough."

Elder Lambert cradled the box in his hands and tenderly offered it.