Han Yan saw Jiang Chen deep in thought and grew uneasy. Gently nudging him, she asked, "Jiang Chen, do I have a serious illness?"
"If it's serious, I can't say yet," Jiang Chen replied.
"You probably already know my diagnosis but are holding back, right?" she trembled with fear—a shift from her earlier boldness.
Her voice was soft and smooth, trembling with a hint of vulnerability. Jiang Chen looked down at her delicate features and roughly asked for her age. Before he could speak, she interrupted with a wry smile: "Age is nothing now—I just turned 40 last month." Her voice was tinged with self-deprecation.
She'd been flirtatious earlier, but repeated refusals from Jiang Chen had bruised her confidence. Now at forty, she doubted her appeal to younger men.
Jiang Chen carefully asked, "How many years have you been married?"
"Nineteen," she answered.
Children?
"My son lives abroad, and my daughter—the one you saved."
He frowned. "If I may ask... your daughter was born naturally?"
"Of course! Ten months mature—I nearly had a C-section, but it was a natural birth. Look at my belly for stretch marks." She lifted her shirt to reveal smooth skin with faint old lines.
Light flashed through him—her recovery had been excellent; the old marks were almost invisible. He sheepishly looked away. "I believe you."
"And does this relate to my illness?" She held her shirt open, clearly hoping he'd examine deeper.
He felt awkward at her exposed midriff and fidgeted. Finally he said, "Aunt, your condition puzzles me. After childbirth and nearly twenty years of marriage... how could you still appear as if you're a virgin?"
Her face flushed deeply. She looked down, holding her clothes. After a long pause, she whispered, "Don't laugh at me."
"I'm a doctor—I only care about the truth. You showed me your abdomen—there's nothing to mock." He offered reassurance.
Embarrassed but hopeful, she explained, "About half a year ago, I visited a beauty clinic. They claimed they could restore my hymen for confidence... to remind my husband of our early relationship and keep him loving me."
"Really?" he murmured.
"Yes... I couldn't resist and had it done."
Aha. The system's healing Eye detected a subtle change in her pulse when he checked. Even a reconstructed hymen can alter the meridians slightly—he recognized the trace.
Her eyes widened. "Your pulse diagnosis is amazing—how did you tell?"
He calmly explained, "Even minor bodily changes affect the pulse. I noticed that alteration."
"Chinese medicine is miraculous!" she admired.
But he had a serious follow-up question: "Aunt, your husband hasn't slept with you for over six months—why hasn't your hymen been broken again?"
She sighed, voice laden with sorrow: "No, he isn't ill... I'm past my prime, unattractive. I guess he's stopped noticing me."
She sounded both hurt and resigned. It became clear halfway: her husband had effectively exiled her, and her longing for Jiang Chen wasn't scandalous—just human and poignant. Her faith in doctors kept her chaste despite anxiety.
Moved, Jiang Chen added, "Don't be so pessimistic. You are beautiful to me."
"You truly think so?" she asked shyly.
"You're fair-skinned, smooth, and as fit as a youthful bride."
"Are you just saying that to comfort me?"
"No, I mean it. You don't have a serious disease—just stress causing yang–yin imbalance and emotional unrest. Acupuncture will help."
She finally nodded. "Okay... let's do it."
"Please lie down," he instructed.
She reclined on the sofa, bashful. "Where will you insert the needles?"
"I'll give you a balancing treatment from the Seven-Star Ring acupuncture method: seven needles—one each on the hands and feet, and three across your abdomen—to restore harmony."
Her cheeks tinged pink. She hesitated: "...Will I need to loosen my pants?"
Jiang Chen simply nodded. "Yes, that's necessary."