"Don't worry, Elder Tang can only have hope of survival once he spits out this blood." Zhang Xiaobei gently patted Tang Xiaowei's shoulder and continued with the acupuncture.
In the hospital room, Zhang Mingyuan saw everything clearly, and he knew that Elder Tang's life had been saved at this moment.
But he couldn't understand what kind of acupuncture technique that young man in the hospital room was using.
Having practiced medicine his whole life, he might not say he had seen it all, but he had seen quite a lot, yet he had never come across this before.
Thinking back on his own attitude just now, Zhang Mingyuan felt his old face burning hot with embarrassment.
It appeared the criticism was right, after all. What use was his qualification to practice medicine if he couldn't save Elder Tang?
Turning back to look at those Western medicine experts who had been prepared to ridicule, he couldn't help but feel a wave of ridicule himself.
In the end, who was the joke on?
