Chapter 42: Huang Biao's Sneaky Trick

Early the next morning, Huang Biao was the first to arrive at work as usual.

Unlocking the doors of the Mingde Hall and stepping into his consultation room, he pulled out his Redmi smartphone.

"Hello, Little Guizi, where are you now?"

"Third Uncle, I'm already on the way. But the bus is stuck in some traffic, so it'll probably take another ten minutes or so."

"That long? I told you long ago to just take a taxi and submit the receipt for reimbursement," Huang Biao said in a slightly reproachful tone.

"Ah! My construction site is too far from your clinic, and taking a taxi is awfully expensive. Besides, I've already taken half a day off, no need to waste money like that."

Hearing this, Huang Biao couldn't help but look at him with newfound respect. Little Guizi turned out to be quite a decent fellow; even when spending someone else's money, he was reluctant to waste it recklessly.

So, he asked with concern, "How are you, Little Guizi? Are you still having diarrhea today?"

"I am still going, but it's already much better. From the time I woke up until now, I've only gone three times, and it's not as watery as it was last night."

"Mhm. Don't worry, come by later and you'll be fine."

"Alright, thank you Third Uncle. If there's nothing else, I'll hang up now. Phone calls are quite expensive too."

"Alright, hang up then."

Huang Biao gave an inward shake of his head, thinking to himself: This Little Guizi is truly thrifty and sensible; I shouldn't have charged him for the medicine yesterday.

Although he had genuinely examined him and prescribed a formula, judging by the current situation, not only was it ineffective, but it had obvious side effects.

After waiting for a moment, through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the consultation room, Huang Biao saw Zhang Jing, Gui Cui, and Wang森 arriving together for work.

A wave of bitterness washed over him: It seemed these three had formed an ironclad alliance and completely squeezed him out.

At the same time, a cunning smile inadvertently crept onto the corners of his mouth.

He thought to himself: Little brat Zhang Jing, don't be smug too soon; you'll get what's coming to you shortly.

Naturally, the three of them had no idea that Huang Biao was lurking in the shadows, pointing fingers at them.

In fact, even if they knew, nobody would care.

Especially Zhang Jing.

The three of them walked straight to the small medicine storage room on the first floor.

Because business at Mingde Hall had never been good, the inventory of Chinese herbs was not very large.

Anyway, ordering too much stock would just cause it to pile up, and over time it wouldn't keep well.

"Alright, Doctor Zhang, Xiaocui, you two head back to your respective workstations, I can handle things here," Wang Sen said, waving his hand at them.

"That won't do. You're helping me clean up the consultation room, of course I have to pitch in," Zhang Jing quickly said.

"I think you should forget it, Doctor Zhang. Don't take offense, but with your frail frame, you won't be much help here. Leave the heavy lifting to me," Wang Sen said with a smile.

"No, I must stay." Zhang Jing was very persistent.

"Very well then." Wang Sen was afraid that further politeness would annoy him, so he had no choice but to agree.

Then he turned to Gui Cui and said, "As a young lady, you don't need to do any heavy work. Besides, we can't have patients coming in for a consultation without someone at the reception desk."

Zhang Jing nodded. "Right, Xiaocui, you hurry back to the pharmacy. The two of us are enough here. We can move things slowly anyway, there's no rush."

"Alright then." Gui Cui had originally wanted to curry favor, but hearing Zhang Jing say that, she could only return to her post dejectedly.

Following that, the two men—one fat and one thin—got to work.

Wang Sen had always practiced tuina massage after all, and although he was rather plump, his physical strength was quite substantial.

Therefore, he was mainly responsible for moving the iron shelving units used to store Chinese herbs.

As for Zhang Jing, he only possessed clever dexterity; physical labor was truly his weak spot.

Consequently, he was mainly responsible for carrying small bagged packages of sliced Chinese medicinal herbs.

However, after working for less than half an hour, Huang Biao suddenly barged in.

"Xiaozhang, could you step outside for a moment?"

"Director Huang, is something the matter?" Zhang Jing stopped what he was doing and stood up to ask.

"Come here first, there's something I need your help with," Huang Biao said with a beaming smile.

Zhang Jing was taken aback. It was truly a wonder; this Huang Biao, who had never deigned to look at his colleagues straight in the eye, was actually taking the initiative to ask him for help today?

Before he could ponder it deeply, Zhang Jing exchanged a few words with Wang Sen, then followed Huang Biao out of the small medicine room and into the clinic lobby.

"Director Huang, just tell me what needs to be done."

"Don't rush, come to my consultation room first."

Acting so mysterious only made Zhang Jing even more curious. What on earth could this be about?

Plagued by questions, he walked into the consultation room and saw a young man already standing inside.

Judging by his physique, he was muscular and sturdy, but his mental state looked somewhat listless and low-spirited.

"Little Guizi, this is Doctor Zhang Jing whom I mentioned to you. He is exceptionally skilled at treating diarrhea. Just the other day, there was a child who had been suffering from loose stools for nearly half a month, and Doctor Zhang stopped it with just a single dose of medicine."

"Oh, come on! That was just ordinary pediatric diarrhea. If Director Huang had examined him, you certainly could have cured it as well," Zhang Jing said with a slight smile.

"Alright, Xiaozhang, you shouldn't be too modest in front of patients. Otherwise, they might lose confidence in you." Huang Biao couldn't help playing the senior and putting on the airs of a deputy director.

"Indeed. Since Director Huang strongly recommends you, it proves your standard must be very high. I trust Director Huang, and I trust you too."

After saying this, Little Guizi secretly exchanged a glance with Huang Biao.

It seemed he wanted to ask whether he had said the right thing.

Worried that things would eventually be exposed if this continued, Huang Biao came up with an excuse.

Feigning extreme tact, he said, "When practicing traditional Chinese medicine consultations, we generally dislike having outsiders present. Coincidentally, I wanted to discuss something with Boss Ma anyway, so I'll step out first. Little Guizi, make sure you cooperate fully with Doctor Zhang's examination, understand?"

"Understood, understood, Director Huang, take your time," Little Guizi bobbed his head and bowed repeatedly.

Having witnessed their clumsy performance, Zhang Jing had already roughly guessed the purpose behind Huang Biao's stunt.

Although he still didn't know what kind of relationship the two had, it was clear they were meeting each other for the first time.

Huang Biao must have intended to use a familiar old patient to test whether he actually possessed genuine skills.

Regardless, Zhang Jing was not intimidated in the slightest.

He sat straight down in Huang Biao's chair and said, "Elder brother, please have a seat."

"Alright." Little Guizi sat down as instructed and then firmly shut his mouth.

Zhang Jing immediately understood that this must have been pre-arranged by Huang Biao as well—deliberately staying silent at first to test his pulse-taking proficiency and adaptability.

After all, if a doctor knew nothing about taking pulses, the patient's initial intimidation tactic would be enough to make them panic.

Following the predictable script of such plots, once you finished taking the pulse, you would most likely be asked:

"Doctor, what illness do I have?"

Do not underestimate this single sentence.

An ordinary patient would wait until the doctor completed all four diagnostic steps before asking.

By that time, as long as one wasn't a charlatan, they would basically have a grasp of the situation and could speak fluently. Even if the diagnostic result wasn't entirely accurate, they could at least talk through it based on their own understanding.

However, if the patient distrusted you, remained tight-lipped, and came specifically to test your pulse-taking skills, things could become rather awkward.

If you were a top-tier master of pulse diagnosis, naturally you wouldn't panic at all and could simply proceed with a normal pulse examination.

But if your skills were mediocre, you had to summon twelve-part concentration, carefully feeling the pulse without daring to harbor the slightest bit of negligence or slackness.

Otherwise, it wouldn't matter too much if the diagnostic conclusion was slightly off, but if the answer you gave bore absolutely no relation to the actual condition, that kind of scene really made a doctor wish they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

Having basically confirmed that the visitor harbored malicious intent, while Zhang Jing wasn't particularly nervous, he was certainly more serious and thorough than usual.

"Elder brother, please place your left hand here, palm upward. Let me check your pulse first," Zhang Jing said with a calm and composed expression.