《左传》云∶三折肱知为良医也。从未有人注及三折肱之意。予谓∶古之医者,自备药
笼至
病家延医后,向笼取药,或君臣未配,或轻重失宜,取而复置,置而复取,总以郑重为事,
此为三折肱也。又《礼记》云∶医不三世,不服其药。后注者,多以世业之谓,非也。医必
父而子,子而孙,如是其业则精,始服其药。若传至曾元,更为名医矣!其间贤者不待言,
其不肖者若何?因其世业,而安心服其药。设为所误,生死攸关,虽愚者不为也。况医道可
通仙道,远数十百年,偶出一豪杰之士,聪明好学,贯微彻幽。然而上世并非医者,舍是人
而必求所谓三世者,有是理乎?凡医者必读上古《神农本草》、黄帝《素问》、《灵枢经》
,及仲景《伤寒论》三世之书,方为有本之学,从而服药,庶无误人。三世者,三世之书也
。汉儒谓∶《神农本草》、黄帝《素问》、元女《脉诀》,为三世之书。聊记以质博学之君
子。
扁鹊兄弟三人皆善医。魏文侯问曰∶子兄弟三人孰最善?对曰∶长兄视色,故名不出家
;仲
兄视毫毛,故名不出门;如鹊针人血脉,投人药饵,故名闻诸侯。然扁鹊见齐桓侯,知疾在
腠理,疾在血脉,疾在肠胃,亦未尝非能视色知人之疾也。若彼之兄弟,后世安有如是之神
哉!夫脉之难明,古今所病也。至虚有盛候,而大实有羸状,疑似之间。便有生死之异。士
大夫多秘所患以求延医,验医之能否,使索病于冥漠之中,辨虚实寒热于疑似之间。医不幸
而失,终不肯自谓失也。巧饰遂非,以全其名;间有审密者,虽惑主人之言,亦参以己见,
两存而杂治,亦云难矣。不如东坡之言∶凡医之工拙,先验于平时,有疾求疗,尽告以所患
,使医了然知患之所在,然后参之以脉,虚实寒热,洞然胸中。故虽中医,治吾疾常愈,吾
求疾愈而已,岂以困医为事哉?如此则岂非智耶?
The *Zuo Zhuan* states: "One who has fractured their arm three times knows how to be a good physician." No one has ever annotated the true meaning of "three fractures of the arm" (San Zhe Gong). I propose that: In ancient times, physicians kept their own medicine chests. After being summoned to a patient's home, they would retrieve herbs from the chest. Sometimes the Jun-Chen (Monarch-Minister) compatibility was improper, or the dosage weights were unsuitable; they would take them out and put them back, put them back and take them out again, always acting with utmost caution and seriousness. This is what is meant by "three fractures of the arm."
Furthermore, the *Book of Rites* (Liji) states: "Do not take the medicine of a physician whose lineage does not extend for three generations." Later annotators mostly interpreted this as referring to hereditary medical practice, which is incorrect. A physician must be a father passing down to a son, and a son to a grandson, so that their skills become refined before one dares to take their medicine. If it passes to great-grandsons and beyond, they would certainly be famous doctors! Among them, the virtuous need not be mentioned, but what of the unworthy? To calmly accept their medicine solely because of hereditary status... if mistaken in treatment, life and death are at stake; even a fool would not do this. Moreover, the Way of Medicine can connect to the Way of Immortality. Separated by hundreds or thousands of years, occasionally a heroic figure emerges—intelligent, fond of learning, penetrating into subtle and profound truths. Yet their ancestors were not physicians. To discard such a person and insist on seeking someone from a "three-generation" lineage, is there any logic in this? Any physician must study the ancient *Shennong Bencao Jing* (Divine Farmer's Materia Medica), the Yellow Emperor's *Suwen* (Basic Questions), the *Lingshu Jing* (Spiritual Pivot), and Zhang Zhongjing's *Shanghan Lun* (Treatise on Cold Damage)—these three classic texts—to possess a foundational scholarship. Only then should one take medicine based on them, lest one mislead others. The term "three generations" here refers to these three classic texts. Han Confucians considered the *Shennong Bencao Jing*, the Yellow Emperor's *Suwen*, and Yuannü's *Maijue* (Pulse Instructions) to be the "three generations of books." I record this briefly to inquire about it from learned gentlemen.
Bian Que and his two brothers were all skilled in medicine. Marquis Wen of Wei asked him, "Among your three brothers, who is the most skilled?" He replied, "My eldest brother diagnoses by observing facial complexion, hence his fame does not leave the household; my second brother diagnoses by observing fine hairs, hence his fame does not leave the neighborhood; as for me, Bian Que, I use needles to penetrate blood vessels and administer herbal decoctions, hence my fame is known among the feudal lords." However, when Bian Que saw Duke Huan of Qi, he knew the disease was in the Couli (skin and muscle interstices), in the blood vessels, and in the stomach and intestines. This was also a method of knowing another's disease through observation. How could later generations produce such miraculous figures like his brothers? The difficulty of understanding pulse diagnosis has been a concern since ancient times. Extreme deficiency may present with excess symptoms, while extreme excess may present with deficient signs; between these similarities and differences lies the distinction between life and death. Scholars often conceal their ailments to invite physicians, testing the physician's ability, forcing the doctor to seek the cause in obscurity and distinguish deficiency/excess and cold/heat amidst ambiguity. If the physician unfortunately errs, they are ultimately unwilling to admit fault. They skillfully disguise their mistakes to preserve their reputation; occasionally, those who are meticulous, though confused by the patient's words, still incorporate their own views, employing both methods simultaneously for mixed treatment. This is indeed difficult. It is better to follow Su Dongpo's words: The proficiency or clumsiness of a physician is first verified during normal times. When seeking treatment for illness, tell the physician everything about your condition, allowing the physician to clearly understand where the disease lies, and then combine this with pulse diagnosis, having a clear mind regarding deficiency/excess and cold/heat. Thus, even an average physician can cure my illness. I only seek recovery; I do not make it my business to hinder the physician. Is this not wise?