The Art of Saving Lives Must Not Die With Us

Whenever I have an empirical formula that I have applied with great maturity, I write it up as an article and publish it without reservation. There are other formulas that I have not yet applied maturely, or that I am still constantly improving; I will continue to test them for a while longer and publish them only after confirming they have definite efficacy and controllable side effects.

Some patients, after using a formula I have published and solving their problem, give me a small reward as a tip; others do not after using it—and I understand this very well. Chronic diseases such as cancer require long-term treatment, and patients are financially strapped; even if they wish to be generous, they cannot. Taking a little recompense from patients who are able to pay is enough to cover my expenses.

Some patients do not understand my way of doing things and ask me directly: "If you do not keep your prescriptions secret, how do you make a living?" Making a living has never been my problem. I ask for little; my larger expenses go to medical research. There are always some patients willing to pay something to support my life and research, and that is enough.

Personally, I believe that when we study Chinese medicine and use Chinese medicine and pharmacology to treat disease, we should not keep the medical skills we hold secret. The art of saving lives must not die with us; it must be passed on. Taking on students is one way of transmitting it; writing books is another.

This belief is also one of the driving forces that keep me writing. Moreover, my original motivation for studying medicine arose from seeing my own family tormented by illness. At the time I very much hoped that some doctors would publish their empirical formulas for our reference, so I am willing to publish my own empirical formulas for others to reference.

Over the years, patients or family members have from time to time told me that, after reading some article I wrote and using the medicine recommended in it, they benefited, and they thank me for it. This makes me very gratified. Of course, some people who did not benefit curse me; there is nothing I can do about that, and I can only suggest such readers adjust their state of mind—too extreme a disposition is not good for one's own health.

Given my temperament, I would prefer a quieter life of farming and reading than this constant public exposure, because such a life would be more relaxed and, from a health-preservation standpoint, better for me. And honestly, given what my family and I demand from life, if I stopped working we would still not lack money for the rest of our days—not because we possess great wealth, but because our needs are pitifully few.

For the rest of my life I will still continue, without a single day of slackening, to research the use of Chinese medicine and pharmacology against cancer and to do original writing—unless I fall seriously ill and have to rest. This may be something most of my medical colleagues cannot do. Since childhood I have formed such a habit of diligence that no one can change it, and I myself cannot shift to another state.

The senior TCM elder Professor Jiang Chunhua said he was very clumsy as a child and others mocked him. His father said it did not matter to be a bit clumsy; diligence can make up for dullness, and as long as one is diligent, even a dull person can learn a great deal. Professor Jiang later indeed became a towering master of Chinese medicine. I cannot hope to match him in this life, but I deeply agree with what his father said. I was not a particularly clever child either; it was through diligent study that I learned anything at all.

The true art of saving lives can only be mastered and refined through day after day of accumulation; once a person has set foot on this road, he should not retreat. Though there may be many hardships and dangers ahead, medicine may be one of the few pursuits in this world that is genuinely beneficial to people.

From ancient times to today, there have always been those who, after mastering the medical art, transmitted it to others through writing and through taking on disciples. It is precisely because so many of our predecessors valued transmission that we can learn their medicine today; their spirit is also worth our learning and carrying forward.