When he misread the pulse for the seventh time, Gu Yuan finally succumbed to the devil’s whisper. He flicked his gaze toward the medicine cabinet area.
His pupils contracted into pinpricks.
The figure who should have been at the diagnostic station was standing before the herb cabinets, calmly weighing ingredients. Gu Yuan hadn't even touched the patient’s wrist; he had retreated from the starting line back to the dispensary, operating in reverse like a rewound tape. The traditional four pillars of Chinese medicine were crumbling beneath his feet. While the timer at the diagnostic desk kept ticking, he had already begun preparing the prescription.
Chapter 307