Chapter 28 Xie Bingyi

Old Man Xie, as Xie Bingyi was affectionally known as within the walls of the Institute, was hardly a counselor there only because of his medical knowledge and healing abilities. The National Studies Institute, for all intents and purposes, was not a medical institution after all. Old Man Xie was there because of the hereditary wizardly healing skills he inherited from his forefathers—the mystical healing skills of Zhuyou (Shamanistic Healing). Although the technique of wishing is the first of the 13 subjects of ancient Chinese medicine, it is also a cure for the sick, but it is a thing of witchcraft, that is to say, it contains many methods for treating the evil spirits into the body. This is why Comrade Lao Xie can treat many intractable diseases. But this is also one of the reasons why Lao Xietou is not seen by his peers. Other old Chinese doctors chat about things like pharmacy. He is good. Just chatting is a matter of catching ghosts. Who is this? Still waiting for him! Although being widely accepted as one of the thirteen disciplines of ancient Chinese medicine, a field of study which faculties were mainly wielded to save lives, the arcane skills of Zhuyou was nevertheless a shamanistic discipline that blanketed a vast range of applications. The skills of Zhuyou geared its wielder the ability to heal the afflicted, the stricken, and the cursed that were suffering from maladies, be they the evocations of spiritual origins or the influence of conventional health complications alike. Then again, this was also the very reason behind Old Man Xie's perpetual refusal to open his doors to any colleagues or fellow workers of the same trade. This was because he knew full well that he had nothing but his experiences on dealing with the supernatural to share, Old Man Xie had purposefully evaded any invitations for academic discussion to avoid any irk and ire that might later arise. Then again, even among the residents of the Institute, he was hardly known to be a friendly and loquacious person, preferring to keep mostly to himself. His intransigent abnegation to provide any response to my father's call for dinner together when we were going for a barbecue repast was a faithful testament to his ever-more reclusive mien.