Why I Have No Time to Make Friends, Take Disciples, or Accept Every Patient Who Asks for Help

I have written many articles over time. Although their quality is nothing to boast about, they have nevertheless accumulated some readers. Among these readers, some wish to befriend me, while others wish to study medicine—or something else—under me.

I have refused many of these requests. Others wanting to make friends with me, take me as their teacher, or seek me out for treatment is a sign of trust and an honor to me. To refuse them is truly impolite.

Turning people down leaves me uneasy inside.

I expect that in the future people will continue to make such requests, and that I will probably still have to refuse them. Since I cannot reply to each one individually, I am writing this article today as a unified explanation.

First, I must apologize to all of you. By nature I am solitary and uncouth, my knowledge is shallow, and on top of that my workload is enormous. I simply have no time to make friends, nor the energy to exchange skills with you. If my articles are of some help to you, I hope you will kindly stop there.

The ancients said: the friendship of gentlemen is as plain as water; the friendship of petty people is as sweet as wine. My character and learning are both mediocre, and I dare not pass myself off as a gentleman. On the contrary, the great majority of those who wish to befriend me are gentlemen. I would like to offer this ancient saying to you: understanding lies in the heart; there is no need actually to meet.

Mr. Qian Zhongshu once said that after eating an egg, one need not necessarily meet the hen that laid it. If you readers find my articles congenial, you need not necessarily become my friends.

After all, besides work and writing, I also have a private life. Right now I barely have enough time even to spend with my family—how could I possibly find time to chat with all of you?

Some people want to chat with me, and even want my phone number; when refused, they fly into a huff. I ask you first to calm down, and then to put yourselves in my place.

If you were in my position, with large numbers of new readers every day hoping to meet you, hoping to call you or chat on WeChat frequently—would you still have a normal life?

My WeChat now frequently has people deleted. If I did not delete them, some patients seeking treatment could not add me; a personal WeChat account has a friend limit. Many people have urged me to apply for several more WeChat accounts, but I have always refused.

One WeChat account can add five thousand friends; dealing with five thousand people at once is already the limit of human capacity. I think WeChat's design is a good one—without it, I would work myself to death.

Therefore, those WeChat friends who repeatedly cannot help sending me messages and disturbing me will be deleted (patients currently under my treatment and their families are excepted). Friends who frequently call me—even old classmates—will also be blocked. I can only ask everyone for understanding; I have no choice.

Although I am someone who greatly enjoys solitude, I am now forced to live a life in which I must deal with many people every day.

I must work hard to soothe the emotions of patients under treatment or their families, and find ways to solve their problems. I have many long-term follow-up patients, and the number I must look after each day is beyond what ordinary people can imagine.

So when I now decline some patients' pleas for help, it is not because I am arrogant or wish to evade my social responsibility, but because I truly cannot be in two places at once.

Those who study medicine in China bear a heavy physical and mental burden; those with even a little reputation are crushed by it. People outside this profession can hardly understand our hardship.

As for taking disciples, people have always asked me what kind of person I would take on as a disciple. Today I will give a unified reply.

First, over the next five to eight years I will not take any more disciples.

The disciples I have taken now were originally scheduled to be taught for ten years before they graduate. I have no other strength but perseverance. I have now taught them for nearly two years, and I will not abandon them halfway.

Taking disciples consumes a great deal of heart's blood; biting off more than one can chew is unwise—it is better to take few.

When I was young and inexperienced, I took on some adults to study medicine, which is why people now call me Master. It was a future trouble I carelessly left behind.

Later I found that everyone's enthusiasm lasted only three minutes. Studying medicine is dull; not a single person persisted for long enough to attend even half of the lessons. Worse, one particular student, after studying part-time for three months—less than fifty hours in total—went off to treat patients himself. It gave me a cold sweat: choosing disciples carelessly is wantonly creating bad karma.

So now I only take children, starting them young, building the foundation bit by bit. I am extremely strict in teaching them, daring not to bring up reckless types who write prescriptions that kill people.

I take disciples regardless of their background, regardless of closeness or distance, and I charge no tuition. But I already took this first batch of young disciples two years ago, and I must patiently teach them.

Besides, I myself am only a half-filled bucket; at present I am fit only to teach a few children, give them an elementary education, lecture to them, and supervise their memorization. In future they must go to medical school, drawing on the strengths of many schools to save the world.

So for now I am not considering taking more disciples, nor offering online courses. But when licensed TCM physicians or licensed TCM pharmacists who lack clinical experience do not disdain my shallowness and deign to ask me questions, I will, within what I know, exchange views with them.

Exchanges with such colleagues are purely mutual refinement. I am not the kind of person who likes to act as a teacher, so I absolutely dare not, and will not, be their teacher. If someone courteously calls me teacher or sir, that reflects their own good breeding; it does not mean I am truly qualified to be their teacher, nor will I brazenly claim to be their teacher.

If ten years from now my studies bear fruit, I will talk again about taking disciples. If by then I am still a half-baked, three-legged-cat know-nothing, then in this life I will never pass myself off as qualified and mislead the young.

Studying and practicing medicine requires ability, heart, and energy. Even those outstanding in all three cannot respond to every request. In reality no one is a god with three heads and six arms; we are all mortals who cannot be in two places at once. I too need rest and need my own private life.

I do not ask for everyone's understanding; I only ask that, when refused, you can remain a little more at peace.

Once again I apologize to all of you, and wish you physical and mental health!

Additionally, some time ago, to avoid being disturbed, I turned off the comment function. Later some readers told me that they too had a need to post comments and communicate, so I turned it back on as they requested.

I hope everyone will send fewer private messages and communicate with me more through the comments. That way, for the same question, I need not repeatedly answer multiple inquirers, and can save some energy.

But please avoid posting excessive praise in the comments; once it is posted, I truly do not know whether to release it or not. Let us all calmly exchange views on specific questions.

I also hope your comments will be courteous and polite. Anyone who vents extreme emotions in my official account is dealt with by deleting the comment and putting them on the blacklist.

WeChat Official Account: zhouzhiyuan360 (or search for "周志远")

Author's WeChat: zhouzhiyuan1979 (or add 36641)

Author's website: www.zhouzhiyuan.com