23. Acupuncture

The elderly woman’s face was crooked, her body plump. Qin Baike entered and went straight to Wu Siping’s desk. “Fourth Uncle, I’ve brought my mother back for acupuncture.” He settled his mother onto a stool and stood behind her to support her.

Wu Siping walked over and carefully examined the paralyzed side of the old woman’s body, nodding in approval. “The caregiver you hired is quite good. The daily rehabilitation is thorough. As for acupuncture, I can’t guarantee how much it will help with this degree of paralysis—results vary from person to person. But over time, there should definitely be improvement.”

Wu Siping glanced at Tang Yiyi, who was standing nearby, and instructed her, “Watch closely. For facial paralysis, the main points are Tinghui, Dicang…” Tang Yiyi nodded, showing she understood, and began preparing the needles, holding a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant, ready at the side.

Instead of picking up the needles, Wu Siping addressed Qin Baike. “With your mother’s degree of paralysis, acupuncture once or twice won’t be enough. Her rhinitis easily triggers asthma, so she can’t stay in the city too long. Ideally, treatment should be daily, but given the circumstances, every two or three days will suffice. Still, you can’t keep bringing her back and forth from the nursing home every time.”

“Do you have any suggestions, Fourth Uncle?” Qin Baike asked.

“What about this: let Yiyi handle the acupuncture. She’s fully capable of managing on her own now. You can drive her to the nursing home—treatment plus travel will only take three or four hours. She’s young, so the commute won’t bother her. What do you think?”

Qin Baike paused, looking at Tang Yiyi. She immediately said, “Baike, I can do it, don’t worry. I scored ninety on my acupuncture exam, and I’ve been practicing plenty with Fourth Uncle this month.”

Qin Baike replied awkwardly, “Well, I mean, you’ll be helping us for a long time.”

“It’s no trouble at all. If Auntie improves, I’ll feel a real sense of accomplishment.”

“Alright, you’ll handle it.” Qin Baike nodded in agreement.

Tang Yiyi began her work methodically. Xu Mingtang patted Qin Baike’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, she’s more than capable.” Qin Baike watched the girl before him—her bright eyes were calm, lips pressed in concentration, silently mouthing the names of the acupuncture points as she worked. Her slender hands were steady, as resolute as her gaze, her movements precise and rhythmic: twisting, inserting, gently lifting, pressing slowly, all executed smoothly and skillfully. Observing Tang Yiyi inspired an inexplicable trust. Suddenly, a playful voice echoed in his mind: “The water you pour is always just the right temperature. Aren’t you afraid I’ll circle around you forever?” Qin Baike quickly shifted his gaze away from her face.

Once the procedure was finished, Tang Yiyi packed up and breathed out lightly. She grinned at Qin Baike. “See, I told you I could handle it.”

“Thank you,” Qin Baike managed a rare smile.

Tang Yiyi was dazzled for a moment by Qin Baike’s smile—no wonder he was called the Daniel Wu of Huangjuelan Alley.

Qin Baike bent down to carry his mother out of the clinic, settling her into a wheelchair by the door, and then pushed her back to the noodle shop.

At lunch, Zuo Chengjiang had to go home for an errand, so Xu Bin ate at the counter, while Tang Yiyi and the Xu Mingtang couple ate in the upstairs lounge.

Tang Yiyi asked Xu Mingtang about the origins of Qin Baike’s mother’s illness. Xu Mingtang replied, “Baike’s mother has always had a fierce temper.”

His wife interrupted, “Fierce? She’s downright explosive! So fiery and sharp—I never dared speak much to her.”

Xu Mingtang shot his wife a reproachful look and continued, “People with explosive tempers usually have a lot of liver fire. Baike’s mother is strong-willed; I’ve never seen her cry. Over time, that sort of temperament is bound to manifest in illness.

“And with age, she pays little attention to her diet, doesn’t exercise, and before fifty, she developed hypertension, hyperglycemia, and high cholesterol. When her blood pressure rose, I told her to take medicine, but she… well, her blood sugar was high, too. She’s riddled with ailments.

“Two years ago, Baike left the military and took over the noodle shop. Since then, she’s been mostly bedridden. Every day, Baike watches her take her medicine—she grumbles and curses the whole time.

“Two months ago, one morning, she suddenly had a brainstem hemorrhage. Luckily, she was rescued in time and spent thirty days in the ICU. She finally woke up, although she’s a bit confused now and half her body is immobile.”

“Brainstem hemorrhages have a ninety percent mortality rate. It’s really fortunate she recovered this much,” Tang Yiyi remarked.

“People say good folks don’t live long. She’s not a good person, so her life is tough,” Xu’s wife said with a pout.

“You…” Xu Mingtang glared at her. “Mind your words.”

“I’m just being honest. With that temper of hers, it’s a wonder Xiang Shengli tolerated her all those years. Such a gentle man, driven away by her.”

“Sigh, that was ages ago. Why bring him up now?” Xu Mingtang waved his hand dismissively, while his wife snorted in protest.

Tang Yiyi turned to Xu’s wife. “Why does Baike use his mother’s surname?”