Doctor Jiang’s Beloved Sweetheart

Jiang Beiyuan still stood in place.

Snow fell through his hair, his eyebrows, and drowned his broad shoulders.

He stood there like a tall statue, no one knew what he was thinking in his heart.

"Doctor Jiang??"

A cordial greeting brought back Jiang Beiyuan's thoughts.

Jiang Beiyuan regained his senses and found that standing in front of him was the kind old lady who had operated on before he left the central hospital.

"Gosh, why are you standing here, cold? You wear so little?"

"It's not cold." Jiang Beiyuan smiled.

"Sneez."

Suddenly sneezed, and the man's brows stretched out.

The cold he wanted finally came.

"I feel like I'm sick."

"If you wear so little and stand at the vent, it would be weird if you don't catch a cold!!"

The old lady was very distressed. With such a heavy snow, who wouldn't hurry up and stay inside the house, he himself was standing here like a fool, and he looked happy after catching a cold.

The old lady hurriedly pulled Jiang Beiyuan's arm to pull him in. Jiang Beiyuan did not shirk this time, and followed the old man in.

Qiao Zhen had finished the injection, she was washing her hands and looking at Jiang Beiyuan who appeared in her shop.

The old lady took a clean towel and handed it to Jiang Beiyuan, asking him to wipe the snow off his head, while explaining to Qiao Zhen:

"Jane, this is the Doctor Jiang who operated on me that I told you before."

"It's him, quite a young man." Qiao Zhen said casually, her voice very casual, not showing much enthusiasm.

"..."

Jiang Beiyuan looked around quietly, and didn't see Yannian's figure. He frowned slightly, but soon recovered and stepped forward, and his dry and cool hand stretched out, "Hello, Jiang Beiyuan."

Qiao Zhen nodded and shook hands with Jiang Beiyuan. From a closer look, he was a handsome man with sharp eyebrows. He was very upright and brave. He should be less than 30 years old.

If her son is still alive, he must be about the same age.

Qiao Zhen quickly withdrew her hand, and the sadness in her eyes was fleeting.

"Your hands are so cold, are they frozen?" she asked casually.

"I have a cold."

Jiang Beiyuan's voice was as clear and clean as a mountain stream.

"My father cooked a bowl of **** syrup this morning, 10 grams of ginger, 10 grams of brown sugar, 60 grams of japonica rice, and 3 grams of sesame leaves. After drinking, I feel a lot more comfortable. I heard that there is a doctor Qiao on North Road who is skilled in medicine and is free in the afternoon. So come here to try acupuncture."

"You are quite particular about Chinese medicine."

As Qiao Zhen said, a thought flashed through her eyes, "But aren't you a western doctor, what are you doing with me, a Chinese doctor?"

"Not a Western medicine."

Jiang Beiyuan curled his lips and smiled.

Continue:

"I was born in a family of Chinese medicine. My ancestors followed Zhang Zhongjing to travel around. I studied Chinese medicine at university. I have read "Treatise on Febrile and Miscellaneous Diseases", "Huang Di Nei Jing" and "Compendium of Materia Medica" more than ten times. I went to the hospital and quit my job shortly after I worked. I am not a professional counterpart. What's more, I have always advocated a broad Chinese medicine culture, and I can't understand the quacks who prescribe drugs in order to make money."

"Ok……!"

Qiao Zhen nodded.

She never waited to see Jiang Beiyuan's attitude to become quite admired, and she liked people who did not believe in Western medicine.

"But you are also very good, and you saved my aunt with a knife because of the wrong professionalism, so you still have one!"

"It's all well taught by the ancestors, and inherit talent." Jiang Beiyuan said, eyebrows raised.