Bai Xue held the brass medicine grinder entrusted to her grandfather before his death, and stepped on the bluestone into Xinghua Village. Under the mottled "Baicaotang" plaque, the old pharmacist Fu Bo handed over yellowed medical records, and the wind chimes on the corner of the eaves rang out "the place where doctors go" as my grandfather once said.
Come on, author, good book, good book