The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 190

After the diagnosis was completed, all the young medical experts returned to their seats and began prescribing “remedies” for the patient based on their assessments—recommending specific dishes, porridges, and ingredients to regulate the patient’s health in daily life.

“Jiang Fei, you barely rested your fingers on the patient’s wrist just now. Did you really diagnose their condition properly?” Cui Xiuping frowned.

Jiang Fei sat between a young ponytailed woman from the Fire God School and his old acquaintance, Cui Xiuping. His diagnostic method had been utterly unreliable—even faster than pulse-taking through a thread!

“Exactly. Even if dietary therapy isn’t your strength, you should still take it seriously, shouldn’t you?” The ponytailed woman from the Fire God School teased, though her tone carried genuine advice. “Even if you excel in acupuncture later, a poor performance now will drag down your average score.”

Perhaps because their leader, Yu Ruzhi, seemed to hold Jiang Fei in high regard, the other disciples of the Fire God School no longer viewed him with hostility.

“Relax, I’ve already finished the diagnosis. Honestly, isn’t the patient’s condition obvious at a glance?” Jiang Fei replied nonchalantly.

With his Medical System, he didn’t need to perform an actual pulse diagnosis. A single second of contact was enough for the patient’s entire medical history to flash into his mind.

Of course, if he wanted to avoid standing out, he could have dragged out the process like everyone else. But why waste time?

This wasn’t about showing off or being unconventional.

His teachers had always taught him: Time is money. An inch of time is an inch of gold, yet no gold can buy back lost time. Wasting time is wasting life—and life is too short to squander.

…Alright, fine.

Maybe he was showing off a little.

“Did you really diagnose the patient just by observation and listening?” Cui Xiuping, unaware of Jiang Fei’s capabilities, smirked with a hint of schadenfreude. “If you’re relying solely on those methods, I’d advise you to check the pulse again. This patient’s condition isn’t just one ailment—you can’t grasp the full picture just by looking at their complexion and breathing.”

Jiang Fei smiled, unmoved. “I know. But there’s no need to waste time on another pulse check.”

Cui Xiuping and the young woman exchanged glances, their eyes gleaming with amusement. They were certain Jiang Fei’s arrogance would soon backfire.

Any skilled TCM practitioner could deduce that the obese patient suffered from fatty liver disease just by observing their abnormal chest development, complexion, and breathing. However, a proper pulse diagnosis and questioning would reveal complications like tuberculosis and ulcerative colitis!

Every doctor in the Chinese Medical Association was a renowned expert. All twenty-plus participants would undoubtedly identify these conditions. The real competition lay in whose dietary prescription was more effective and efficient.

If Jiang Fei had cut corners to show off, he’d soon become a laughingstock.

The four judges reacted differently. The leaders of the Danxi and Gongxie Schools, Kong Yun and Yan Xiping, barely suppressed their smirks. They assumed Jiang Fei had overestimated himself, treating the association’s competition as child’s play.

Yu Ruzhi, however, frowned in disappointment. Had she misjudged Jiang Fei? Was he just a show-off, despite mastering the Divine Needle Technique?

Only Old Master Cui Qinghe remained unfazed. Having witnessed Jiang Fei’s skill firsthand—curing Ye Zhennan’s paralysis and even neutralizing the Poison King’s toxins—he trusted Jiang Fei’s unconventional approach.

For the next ten minutes, the participants scribbled their dietary prescriptions. Unlike standard prescriptions, these required detailed instructions on ingredients, preparation, and cooking methods.

After submission, the judges spent another half-hour evaluating the anonymized entries. When the names were finally revealed, one result drew surprised but knowing looks.

Yu Ruzhi stood, casting a meaningful glance at Jiang Fei before announcing:

“The patient exhibits symptoms of fatty liver disease—loss of appetite, fatigue, nausea, vomiting, and dull pain in the liver region. Additionally, insomnia, constipation, low-grade fever, and coughing point to ulcerative colitis and tuberculosis. All participants correctly diagnosed these!”

A murmur swept through the room. Everyone had identified all three conditions? Even Jiang Fei, who’d barely touched the patient’s wrist?

Yu Ruzhi continued, “Truthfully, all dietary prescriptions were excellent. Selecting the best was challenging. Here are the top seven: Danxi School’s Du Kang with ‘Plantain Seed and Barley Porridge,’ Gongxie School’s Zuo Jun with ‘Cordyceps Lily Duck Soup,’ Fire God School’s Lan Caijie with ‘Stomach-Nourishing Buddha’s Hand Porridge,’ Cui Xiuping’s ‘Prunella Tea’…”

She listed seven names—none of them Jiang Fei’s. The winners beamed; the others slumped.

Then, with a pause, Yu Ruzhi locked eyes with Jiang Fei, her voice warm but firm:

“The seven I named delivered outstanding prescriptions, but the judges have decided to rank only one winner this time.”

“First place goes to… Jiang Fei!”