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The biting north wind whistled and howled miserably: the dust kicked up by the wind was flying all over the sky, and the world was in chaos. The dark door of Yintang Pharmacy, which faces the street, is half-closed. There was a middle-aged man standing inside the counter, holding an accounting book with one hand and fiddling with the black abacus beads with the other. He also looked out the door from time to time, hoping that there would be customers early in the morning. "Mr. Wang, my father is coughing up blood, please give me some medicine to save him!" A boy of 12 or 13 years old with ragged clothes and bare feet suddenly rushed into the door, startling Wang Yintang. Late last month, Wang Yintang was invited to his home for diagnosis: "The cold air enters the lungs, the bronchi swell, and the qi and blood congest the liver. Take a few medicines and you will slowly get better." Wang Yintang said to Zhang Dahan's family after taking his pulse.