In 1926, at the end of Avenue Joffre in Shanghai's French Concession, there was a small clinic on the verge of closing.
The doctor who ran it, Liu Zhiqiu, came from a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners and had dropped out of medical school. His specialty was talking a good game about both Eastern and Western medicine, then trusting his instincts when it came time to treat someone. His ambitions were simple: keep the clinic open, pay the rent, and settle his tab at the wonton shop next door.
Then Shen Mobai, a French Concession police officer, kicked in his door for the first time.
"Someone reported you for practicing medicine without a license."
"Officer Shen, that wound on your hand needs stitches, or it'll get infected."
"...I'll seal up your clinic first, then get it stitched."
"You can seal it after the stitches, too. It'll be a pain to remove them once the flesh has healed."
Shen Mobai looked at his still-bleeding arm, fell silent for three seconds, and sat down.
Later, Shen Mobai became the Liu Clinic's most loyal "unofficial employee": chasing away troublemaking patients, collecting unpaid bills, and pretending he was just passing by whenever Liu Zhiqiu explained yin-yang and the five elements to foreigners.
Later still, he became Liu Zhiqiu's landlord, business partner, and... the only person who made Liu Zhiqiu feel that there might be something worth living for besides saving people.
From 1926 to 1930, Shanghai was swept up in turbulent times. Some fought for control of the country, while others did business.
But the two somewhat unreliable men at the end of Avenue Joffre just wanted to keep their little clinic open.
And, as a side note, fall in love.
