The five-and-a-half-year-old baby doctor comes to the city to cure those who refuse to listen.

Chu Chen patted the crumbs of osmanthus cake off his hands and looked at Lin Jianguo with a serious expression.

"We are civilized people, and we should use civilized methods."

Lin Jianguo was stunned, his anger caught in his throat by those words.

"Then tell me, what should we do?"

"Aren't they just hoping to see our family suffer?"

Chu Chen counted on his fingers in a childish voice.

"Let's show them what bad luck is."

He ran to Lin Jianguo's side and took his big hand.

"Grandpa, from today onwards, you have to lie in bed every day, sighing and complaining, and say that I made you sick."

"Jishetang, they said they were treating my injuries, but they used up all the good medicine in their storeroom and couldn't even pay their employees' wages."

Lin Jianguo's eyelids twitched as he listened.

"Isn't this...isn't this like cutting off your own limbs?"

"We don't need fancy methods to deal with them."

Chu Chen sighed in an old-fashioned manner, then turned his gaze to Wang Dequan, who had been trembling with fear the entire time.

"Grandpa Wang."

"Young master, what are your orders?"

Wang Dequan quickly bowed; he now looked at Chu Chen with even more awe than he looked at Lin Jianguo.

"Tomorrow, take some men to all the pharmacies in the capital and tell them that Jishetang urgently needs money and wants to sell all the remaining medicinal herbs in the warehouse."

"Also, go to those herbalists outside the city and tell them that Jishetang is now buying something at a high price."

Wang Dequan quickly asked, "What is it?"

"Dregs of medicine".

Chu Chen spoke casually.

"It's those medicinal dregs that have been used to make soup and pills, but are completely useless and can only be used as firewood."

"We'll take any garbage they don't want, whether it's moldy or infested with insects."

"We'll take as many as you have."

"What?"

Wang Dequan and Lin Jianguo spoke in unison, both thinking they had misheard.

Wang Dequan was so anxious that his mustache stood on end.

"Young master, you mustn't! This dregs of medicine are just waste; they're not even toxic. What are you going to do with it? Really use it as firewood?"

"Our Jishetang has a century-old reputation. If word gets out that we're collecting these kinds of things, then... then we'll look like scavengers!"

Chu Chen glanced at him and said matter-of-factly.

"We're all 'bankrupt,' if we don't scavenge for scraps, are we supposed to eat delicacies?"

"It's settled then."

With a wave of his hand, he gave no one a chance to refute him.

"Grandpa, the play must be performed in its entirety."

The next day, a magnitude 8 earthquake struck the entire pharmaceutical industry in Beijing.

Wang Dequan of Jishetang, along with a few employees, went door to door like a defeated rooster, begging and pleading.

"Boss Qian, please have mercy and take this batch of licorice. It's all top-quality stuff, half price will do!"

"Manager Sun, I beg you, Jishetang really can't hold on any longer. Could you please give us some money for this batch of astragalus so we can pay our workers?"

At the counter of Huichuntang, Manager Zhao sat with his legs crossed, picking his ear with his little finger while listening to his subordinate's report, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hahaha, that old bastard Lin Jianguo, he's finally got what he deserves!"

"Isn't he supposed to be aloof and proud? Isn't he a renowned master of traditional Chinese medicine? Now he still has to sell medicinal herbs to make a living!"

A waiter ran in, his face beaming with smiles.

"Manager, big news! The people from Jishetang are now collecting leftover medicine outside the city!"

"They're like madmen, treating even the dregs of medicine like their own fathers. Moldy, worm-infested parts are treasures, they want as much as they can!"

"puff--"

Manager Zhao spat out a mouthful of tea, sending it flying far away.

"Collecting dregs of medicinal herbs? Hahahaha!"

He laughed until tears streamed down his face, and then slapped his thigh.

"That brat, did he blow himself up while refining pills?"

"Pass on my message! Tell all pharmacies to sell their leftover medicine residue to Jishetang at double the price! They want it, don't they? Let them buy as much as they want!"

"I'd like to see if the Lin family is planning to switch businesses and open the biggest garbage dump in Beijing!"

For a time, Jishetang became the laughing stock of the entire capital.

The once bustling vermilion gate is now deserted, with not a single patient seeking medical advice.

Instead, truckloads of musty and sour medicine dregs were continuously transported into the backyard of Jishetang.

In just three days, the spacious backyard was piled up into small mountains.

The smell was so strong that you could smell it from two streets away, making people want to take a detour.

Wang Dequan stood in front of the mountain of medicinal residue, looking at the waste covered in green and black mold, and trembled with heartache.

He stamped his feet and ran to Lin Jianguo's room, where Lin was lying in bed "recuperating".

"Sir! You'd better do something about this! The young master is going to squander our entire fortune!"

"We've spent over a thousand yuan just collecting this garbage these past few days! If this keeps up, we'll really go bankrupt!"

Lin Jianguo lay on the bed, his face full of worry, but when he thought of his grandson's peaceful little face, he swallowed his words back.

"I'll listen to Chen'er."

Just then, Chu Chen, with his hands behind his back, strolled into the courtyard.

He walked around several mountains of medicinal residue, occasionally grabbing a handful, smelling it, and nodding seriously.

"Hmm, not bad, the age is just right."

Wang Dequan almost couldn't catch his breath.

"Young master! These things have an age rating? Aren't they all junk?"

Chu Chen ignored him and instead directed several men who were grimacing from the fumes.

"Go and bring a big pot, the bigger the better."

"Fetch me a few more buckets of the cleanest well water."

Soon, a huge iron pot, big enough to cook a cow, was placed in the center of the courtyard.

Chu Chen waved his small hand.

"fall!"

The workers, looking disgusted, poured basket after basket of moldy medicine residue into the pot.

Chu Chen had them fill the pot with water again, then he personally picked up a wooden stick taller than himself and began stirring the pot.

He stirred very slowly and rhythmically, while muttering to himself.

Wang Dequan leaned closer to listen, but all he heard was something like, "Three circles to the left, three circles to the right, twist your neck, wiggle your butt..."

Wang Dequan's vision went black, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

It’s over.

The young master is truly dumbfounded.

This isn't medicine making, it's clearly playing with mud!

But then something strange happened.

As Chu Chen stirred the soup, the foul-smelling, multicolored broth gradually began to clear up.

The mold and impurities in the dregs seemed to be broken down by an invisible force and settled at the bottom of the pot.

The nauseating sour smell gradually faded away, replaced by a strange yet inexplicably pleasant fragrance.

Half an hour later.

Chu Chen stopped stirring.

"ignition."

A raging fire ignited at the bottom of the pot.

The water in the pot began to boil, and the aroma grew stronger and stronger, more and more overpowering.

It seemed to have a life of its own, drifting out from the courtyard wall of Jishetang, across two streets, across three streets...

On a street corner, an elderly beggar with mobility issues was basking in the sun against a wall, half asleep.

His chronic leg pain had been with him for decades, and it would ache terribly whenever the weather changed.

Suddenly, a strange fragrance entered his nostrils.

The old beggar twitched his nose and suddenly opened his eyes.

It smells so good!

I've never smelled anything so delicious in my life!

He leaned against the wall, limping as he followed the scent.

He walked to the back door of Jishetang, where the aroma was even stronger, practically bewitching him.

He saw a group of people gathered around a large pot in the courtyard, which was bubbling and steaming.

A five- or six-year-old child was using a spoon to scoop a lump of dark, mud-like stuff from the pot and put it into a broken bowl.

The old beggar's stomach growled, and he licked his chapped lips before walking inside as if possessed.

"Please, kind sir, have mercy and give me something to eat..."

Everyone looked at him, and Wang Dequan was about to shoo him away.

Chu Chen, however, carried the broken bowl and walked up to the old beggar.

"Grandpa, are you hungry?"

The old beggar looked at the lump of black mud in the bowl and swallowed.

It looks ugly, but it smells really good.

Chu Chen pushed the bowl forward.

"Here, have some."

"Young Master!" Wang Dequan exclaimed in shock, "This stuff is inedible! It's medicinal dregs, it can kill you!"

Even the old beggar hesitated.

Chu Chen scooped up a spoonful of black mud, blew on it, and held it to the old beggar's mouth.

"It's okay, it's sweet."

That aroma completely shattered the old beggar's reason.

He thought, "Since I'm just a worthless life anyway, I might as well die a full-fledged ghost."

He opened his mouth and ate the spoonful of black mud.

Upon tasting, it wasn't as bitter as I had imagined; instead, it had a subtle sweetness.

The black mud slid down his throat, turning into a warm current that instantly flowed to his limbs and bones.

Especially his old, numb leg, which had been numb for decades, felt like it was on fire, burning hot.

The old beggar grunted, dropped his cane, and sat down on the ground, hugging his legs.

Wang Dequan turned pale with fright.

"Oh no! We've eaten something that's caused a problem!"

Just when everyone thought the old beggar was about to die from the poison.

The old beggar suddenly stopped moving.

He stared blankly at his legs, and then, to everyone's astonishment, he slowly stood up.

Stand straight.

He tentatively lifted his left leg, which he had been dragging for decades.

Then, he stomped heavily on the ground.

"Snap!"

A crisp cracking sound of bones breaking.

The old beggar shuddered. He stared blankly at his feet and stomped them again.

"My legs... my legs..."

He suddenly raised his head and stared intently at Chu Chen with the eyes of someone looking at a living Buddha.

"My legs... feel strong again!"