The plane slowly descended at China International Airport.
Jiang Fei, already set on passing on his responsibilities, decided not to rush back to Jincheng. Instead, he stayed in the capital to take care of one last major task before he could truly enjoy an early “retirement.”
Having paved the way for Traditional Chinese Medicine to expand into Western markets, the final big task was naturally for Jiang Fei to pass on his extraordinary, nearly all-encompassing medical skills.
The essence of TCM surgical techniques lost for over a thousand years, the most mysterious “Eight Methods of Divine Acupuncture” among the three top-tier acupuncture schools, and precious prescriptions for treating various complex and difficult diseases…
All these were knowledge that only Jiang Fei possessed. Over the millennia of TCM’s inheritance, countless gems of medical wisdom had been lost along the way. Now, only Jiang Fei could bring them back to light.
Jiang Fei wasn’t narrow-minded or selfish—he didn’t believe in hoarding knowledge behind closed doors. If these treasures fell into the hands of the three millennium-old schools or prestigious TCM families, they would guard them like priceless heirlooms, allowing only a select few disciples to learn them, let alone outsiders.
Jiang Fei, however, wanted to make this knowledge widely available, enabling more TCM practitioners to benefit from these profound insights.
Of course, even if he taught without reservation, how much others could absorb would ultimately depend on their own aptitude and effort.
“You’re in such a hurry—it’s like you can’t wait to finish everything and wash your hands of it all.” Cui Xiuping shook his head helplessly upon hearing Jiang Fei’s plan.
“The sooner, the better. There’s no time like the present. I think the timing is perfect. Once I start passing on my medical knowledge, even if they only grasp a fraction of what I teach, their skills should improve significantly. Some of them can then be sent to London to meet future needs,” Jiang Fei said with a smile. “We already discussed this before the new year. Have you pretty much selected the candidates?”
“The candidates are chosen, and the venues are set. But we can’t just start classes today, can we?” Cui Xiuping replied.
“Of course not—just as soon as possible.” Watching Lin Moli’s connecting flight to Rongcheng finally taxi off the runway and ascend into the sky, Jiang Fei and Cui Xiuping left the airport.
Cui Xiuping thought for a moment and said, “The earliest would be the day after tomorrow. Since you specified that the candidate pool shouldn’t be limited to disciples from TCM families and the three millennium-old schools—it should also include ‘civilian’ practitioners—those doctors are scattered across the country. It’ll take some time to gather them all in the capital.”
Although they were coming to hear Jiang Fei’s lectures and receive his instruction, this was already considered the highest level of advanced TCM training. Doctors with only average skills wouldn’t qualify. Besides passing strict background checks and demonstrating sound medical ethics, they also had to possess solid clinical abilities. Even if they hadn’t yet reached the level required to join the TCM Association, they weren’t far off.
So these doctors were at least attending physicians at local hospitals, with busy schedules.
“No problem,” Jiang Fei nodded. Then he turned to Cui Xiuping with a mischievous grin. “Aside from my experience in TCM surgery and herbal formulas, are you really not going to learn the Eight Methods of Divine Acupuncture?”
Cui Xiuping had already told Jiang Fei that he would be included in the candidate list.
Once a fiercely competitive prodigy from the Cui family, the young miracle doctor had long since come to respect Jiang Fei completely. In the past, aside from his grandfather—Old Divine Doctor Cui, known as the “Ghost Hand”—he would hardly have acknowledged any other physician’s superiority, let alone attend their lectures.
He saw no need for it, and more importantly, he couldn’t swallow his pride.
As the heir of the Cui family, with a grandfather who was a towering figure in contemporary TCM—no less skilled than the three millennium-old schools and even surpassing them in certain areas—why would he need to listen to anyone else?
Yet toward Jiang Fei, the proud Cui Xiuping had undergone a complete change of heart.
Attending Jiang Fei’s lectures to learn medical skills didn’t feel humiliating to him in the slightest. In fact, if anyone tried to keep him from attending, he’d be the one getting upset!
Deeply passionate about TCM since childhood, guided by his grandfather to take up the cause of promoting Chinese medicine, Cui Xiuping was eager to refine his skills as much as possible. Naturally, he wouldn’t pass up such a golden opportunity to improve.
However, he only planned to learn from Jiang Fei’s expertise in TCM surgery and herbal formulations.
As for the most treasured Eight Methods of Divine Acupuncture—which the three millennium-old schools coveted most—Cui Xiuping had no intention of learning it.
Hearing Jiang Fei’s question, Cui Xiuping didn’t answer directly but instead countered, “Then would you learn my family’s Thirteen Ghost Needles if I taught them to you? If you really wanted to learn, I truly could pass them on.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Jiang Fei said, repeating the words with approval.
Cui Xiuping shot Jiang Fei a look and said with a hint of pride, “Of course. Though my skills are far behind yours now, I am after all the seventeenth-generation heir of the Cui family’s Thirteen Ghost Needles. I do have that much awareness, don’t I? The Eight Methods of Divine Acupuncture may be remarkable and have been lost for decades, but are our Cui family’s Thirteen Ghost Needles any less impressive…”
“I still have a long way to go in mastering the Thirteen Ghost Needles. I haven’t fully grasped them yet. If I could thoroughly understand them, my abilities would improve immensely. Why would I spend time now learning another technique? If I tried to learn both without perfecting either, I’d end up with a mishmash that excels in neither.”
Jiang Fei couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
That was indeed true.
Although the Eight Methods of Divine Acupuncture were indeed formidable—with some even claiming it to be the premier acupuncture technique, surpassing both the Thirteen Ghost Needles and the Spirit Turtle Eight Methods—in reality, when truly compared, it was hard to declare any one of them superior.
The reason Jiang Fei’s medical skills now far exceeded Cui Xiuping’s, and even surpassed Old Divine Doctor Cui’s, wasn’t because the Eight Methods were inherently stronger.
It was simply because Jiang Fei had thoroughly mastered the Eight Methods, penetrating its deepest layers, achieving complete proficiency and entering the inner sanctum of its art.
Cui Xiuping and Old Divine Doctor Cui, however, had yet to unleash the full power of the Thirteen Ghost Needles, which naturally put them at a disadvantage in acupuncture.
Therefore, Cui Xiuping’s decision not to learn the Eight Methods was a wise one.
Instead of studying another school’s technique, he was better off delving deeper into his own family’s Thirteen Ghost Needles.
Once the date was set, the selected TCM practitioners from all over the country temporarily put aside their work and eagerly made their way to the capital, brimming with excitement to attend Jiang Fei’s lectures.
There were two venues for the teaching sessions:
One was the Beijing University of Chinese Medicine, and the other was the Beijing TCM Hospital.
The former was for theoretical instruction, while the latter served as a place for practical application. The sessions would alternate between the two locations, with no fixed schedule—it was flexible.
Some mornings might be at the university, while afternoons could shift to the hospital for hands-on practice.
In total, the learning period would last one month. Jiang Fei intended to teach everything he could; how much each person absorbed would depend on their own talent and dedication…
