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Medicine is fundamentally a benevolent art. Upon witnessing the suffering of others, one naturally feels compassion. Given their profound expectations, if not I who shall save them?

Mr. Dong often said to me: "In treating diseases, herbal medicine (Yao) is indeed slow, and elixirs (Dan) are also sluggish; only mind-saving (Xin Jiu) is most effective. This is not because herbs and elixirs are inherently slow. If one's heart is not earnest, one will easily overlook the condition and fail to examine it precisely. How can one grasp the root and branch of the disease, hold it firmly, and ensure that no hidden truth escapes one's calculation? Only when the heart is sincere does one feel the pain and itch as one's own in critical moments. One worries about what parents and spouses cannot worry about, and plans for what the patient cannot plan. Even in sleep or dreams, one places oneself in their position. One saves them from impending death or prevents potential changes. With deep foresight, while addressing one illness, one anticipates another; after achieving an effect, one doubts its reliability. Attack becomes defense, and defense becomes preparation for attack. A compassionate heart finds no rest. Heaven and Earth bear witness, spirits communicate, and spiritual clarity arises."

I often see contemporary practitioners who lack precision in their skills, relying on showiness, taking advantage of people's crises to seize wealth, disregarding human life, and thinking only of self-interest. While this may benefit their personal plans, what of karmic retribution in the netherworld and future lives? Reflecting on this, one who does not break out in a cold sweat of shame is not a true gentleman.

A physician must love and respect themselves before they can be entrusted with serious illnesses. Because my academic foundation is sound and my diagnosis accurate, I ask: What has been entrusted to me? And for what purpose do I accept this trust? How dare I treat it lightly? Therefore, those who seek flattery, attend without invitation, and strive to please others, possess skills limited to such superficiality. They might treat minor ailments but cannot handle major ones; they might cure common diseases but fail at complex variations. Many have turned mild conditions into severe ones, leading to danger. Alas, people entrust their lives to physicians merely for the sake of convenience?

Nevertheless, medicine is not used to arrogate superiority over others. What I see is solely the disease itself. What I worry about is solely the removal of the disease's suffering. With so much urgency in saving lives, where is there time for compromising integrity or seeking lucky breaks? Moreover, the Way of Medicine applies regardless of wealth or status. For illnesses within the inner quarters, assistance is inevitably sought. Those of upright character view this matter with propriety; even if there are hidden details, they must inquire thoroughly before stopping. The patient, in turn, speaks openly without fear. Thus, the true nature of the disease is revealed, and treatment yields relief. Therefore, moral conduct must be strictly maintained.