In a mossy old medicine shop, a silver-haired old Chinese medicine practitioner listens to the secret voice of the pulse with his fingertips. When his left hand takes pulses for his right hand, the boundary between doctor and patient begins to blur; when he writes scrawled herbal prescriptions, the rhythm of the growth of vegetation is hidden in the pen and ink.
This is no ordinary medical hospital story. Every medicinal ingredient is a metaphor for life: tangerine peel has been accumulated for ten years, telling the true meaning of "leisure"; Poria cocos wraps up the silent longing between father and son; Wang Buliu's line teaches us the wisdom of letting go at the moment of explosion. The tea room conversation between an old Chinese medicine doctor and a Zen master revealed the mystery of fate like breathing in the fragrance of buckwheat. During palpation, he felt the same frequency of wind and pulse, and suddenly realized the Zen meaning of "neither the wind nor the flags move."
Here, the aroma of medicine and ink intertwine into a healing philosophy. You will see the tide of the girl regaining her body among ligustrum and motherwort, and the wanderer understands the true meaning of "returning home" by living alone. When the honeycomb turns into green smoke in the fire, all obsessions drift away with the verse "The poison of love is Bodhi".
"Medicine Shadows on Moss Marks" - a book of life written between the medicine cabinet and the fragrance of tea, invites you to savor the oriental wisdom hidden deep in the moss marks.
