The clinic annex had one narrow window and a long table with room for two candidates on either side. Nurse Mei sat at its far end, sleeves rolled to the elbow. A cloth screen hid the pulse instruments behind her. Examiner Luo placed a case card between Yan and Wei.
“You will examine the patient, agree on a diagnosis, and recommend a treatment,” he said. “You may use the pulse stone, your eyes, and the scent cloth. You may not give the patient a medicine. You have fifteen minutes.”
Mei held out her left wrist. “I have the symptoms listed here. No others.”
Yan began with the pulse. The first beats were strong, then weakened when Mei drew a slow breath. Her hands felt warm against the table, but there was no sweat at her temples. Wei watched her tongue and counted her breaths.
“Heat in the channels,” Wei said. “The pulse rises when she sits up. I’d cool it with a mild draught and rest.”
“I don’t think it’s a fever,” Yan said. “Her hands are warm, but the pulse loses force when she breathes in.”
“That could be the heat moving inward.”
“Or the aroma is doing something.”
Wei took the cloth from the tray. A faint herbal smell clung to it, bitter at first, then sweet. Yan had noticed it when he sat down, but he had assumed it came from the room.
“We shouldn’t give her the draught,” he said. “Could we test the scent cloth away from her?”
Mei raised one brow. “You may use the tools provided.”
Luo watched the clock. “The candidates decide how.”
Wei set the cloth down. “If the aroma is part of the case, what do we test it against?”
“The cloth can be held beneath the pulse stone’s cover. If it shifts the needle, we have a clue. We can also ask Mei to breathe normally without it.”
“That would mean testing the room scent first.”
“Then moving the cloth.”
Wei turned to Mei. “When did the dizziness begin?”
“After I entered the annex.”
“Not before?”
“The case card says I was well this morning.”
Yan looked at Wei. “That points to the room.”
“Or the staged powder.”
“Either way, a cooling draught would treat the surface sign without telling us why.”
Wei’s mouth tightened. “I was wrong to choose it so quickly.”
“We don’t know yet.”
They used the pulse stone to check Mei’s resting rhythm without the cloth nearby. The needle moved in a slow, uneven pattern, then steadied. Wei wrote down the count. Yan asked Mei to stand. Her pulse quickened, but it did not weaken until she turned toward the scent cloth.
“Can you smell it from here?” Yan asked.
“Yes.”
“What if you face away?”
Mei turned her chair. The pulse held steady. Yan brought the cloth closer, keeping it several hand spans from her. The needle dipped as she inhaled. Mei coughed once and covered her mouth.
“Move it away,” Wei said.
Yan set the cloth inside the covered tray. Mei’s pulse settled. The reaction had been clear, but it did not prove the powder’s full effect. They needed the case card and a controlled test.
“The answer is a blocked channel caused by the staged powder,” Yan said. “Not a fever. The pulse changes with the aroma.”
Wei considered the notes. “The case says the candidate has an overfilled channel.”
“That could be what the powder imitates.”
“We should mention both. The staged condition produces the surface pattern, but the aroma causes the weakness.”
“And we recommend no draught until the cloth is removed and the patient is checked again.”
Wei nodded. “Then a low dose of a circulation remedy, followed by rest.”
“Only if the pulse remains weak after the exposure ends.”
“Agreed.”
They wrote their diagnosis and the signs that would change the treatment. Yan added that if Mei developed fever, the answer would be different. Wei specified a low dose and wrote the pulse count beside it. Neither tried to make the other’s words disappear from the page.
Luo read their answer. “Why did you use the scent cloth without putting it near the patient’s face?”
“The pulse weakened when she breathed in,” Yan said. “We could test the connection without giving her a medicine or making her inhale more than necessary.”
“The case described dizziness. The cloth was the only scent source in the room,” Wei added. “We should have asked about it sooner.”
Mei stood and pulled back the screen. A shallow bowl beneath it held a pinch of staged powder. “The case was designed to mimic an overfilled channel. The aroma was the clue. If you had given me the cooling draught, the trial would not have harmed me, but it would have missed the cause.”
“Would the answer change if you had a fever?” Wei asked.
“Yes,” Yan said. “We’d need to examine the fever and the pulse together. The aroma could still matter, but it wouldn’t explain everything.”
Mei nodded. “That is what I wanted to hear.”
Mei replaced the cloth in its tray. “A real patient may not have a clear cause waiting on the table. If the dizziness remained after the smell was removed, what would you do first?”
Wei looked at the pulse notes. “Check the pulse again after rest. Ask when it began and whether the patient had taken anything else.”
“And if it kept weakening?”
“I’d ask for a physician and avoid giving the cooling draught until we understood the pattern.”
Yan added, “If there were trouble breathing or the patient couldn’t stay upright, I’d stop the examination and get help. We wouldn’t keep testing the aroma just to finish the case.”
Mei nodded. “Good. A staged case lets us look for the clue. A person in front of you gets to leave the table if the test itself makes them worse.”
Wei glanced at the hidden bowl. “The powder was part of the exam. The patient was not.”
“Exactly,” Mei said. “I agreed to act, but you still had to respond to what I showed you.”
Luo marked their explanation. “Full credit. You did not treat the staged symptom before checking its source.”
Wei gathered the notes. “I thought you’d choose strength over precision.”
Yan glanced at him. “I thought you’d defend the first answer because you said it.”
“Both guesses were wrong.”
“We can try again next station.”
“I’ll make a better guess.”
Mei smiled. “The next patient has no aroma clue. You’ll need another way to separate surface heat from a blocked channel.”
“Can we see the case?” Wei asked.
“Not until your turn.”
They left the annex together. The corridor was crowded with candidates waiting to be called. Wei was quiet until they reached the water jars.
“You saw the change when she turned,” he said.
“You caught the breath count.”
“I might have rushed the first treatment.”
“You changed it when the evidence changed.”
“That is easier when the other person is right.”
“It’s easier when the other person has a reason.”
Wei filled a cup and drank. “I still want to beat you.”
“Good.”
“You aren’t supposed to agree so quickly.”
“I want to beat you too.”
Wei laughed, and the two of them returned to the candidate court with their revised diagnosis tucked between them.