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Angelica sinensis, Angelica sinensis, Should Return —— Confessions of a Chinese Medicine Dreamer
When I was a child, Chinese medicine was a grid on the medicine cabinet. I expect to hide inside, and I wait for the opportunity to stay outside.

At that time, my neighbor's grandfather was always wandering around the medicine cabinet, and words would always pop up in his mouth: Lycium barbarum, Paeonia lactiflora, Salvia miltiorrhiza, Forsythia suspensa and Glycyrrhiza uralensis ... Although I don't know what they are, these words have been deeply buried in my mind, and their faint and simple fragrance has crept into my heart quietly, weaving sweet dreams.

Grandpa of traditional Chinese medicine is very busy and often goes out from his drugstore in a hurry. One day, he forgot to lock the door of the pharmacy. At this time, the familiar smell floated out from the half-closed door, which aroused my little curiosity for an instant. How can a child's heart stand such a temptation? Glancing at the direction grandpa left, he turned and slipped into the drugstore.

Covered with heavy wooden doors, the room was dark except for a little sunshine leaking from the gap. While I was greedily smelling the fragrance of medicine in the air, I groped my way to a small cupboard by memory. In the upper left corner of each small grid, there is a yellow note with their names outlined with a brush. I carefully stroked the words I couldn't understand, one after another, and I was always reluctant to let go. When I have something to do, I open a small lattice, take out a thin piece from it and put it under my nose to smell it. I feel very happy. I held it tightly in my palm and pushed it onto the grid. I was very satisfied and reluctantly left.

Later, my grandfather told me that it was Angelica sinensis, which was warm in nature, pungent in taste and always sweet.

When I grow up, Chinese medicine is the medicine pot on the stove. I hope to stay inside, I am waiting anxiously outside.

That year, my mother suddenly fell ill. Caught off guard, the disease broke into our mother's body and caught us off guard. In my memory, these days are full of heaviness and hardship. My eyes are full of my mother's emaciated figure and her chest that fluctuates violently because of her constant cough, and my ears are constantly echoing the doctor's helpless persuasion and my father's sigh. At midnight, my tears fell silently but hysterically. Is there really no way to save mom in this world?

Watching my mother suffer day after day, I thought of Chinese medicine in desperation. Perhaps this is what the Buddha said, everything has a causal law. Many years ago, Dr. Li, whom I knew because I loved Chinese medicine, appeared in my memory. From then on, he moved from memory to reality and became my first teacher of Chinese medicine. I still remember that day, I pushed the door and walked into the teacher's office. The teacher has gray hair, good heart and is very elegant. Time did not leave too much worldly and vicissitudes in his expression, but gave him a pair of Ming Rui eyes with insight into the world. Under the guidance of my teacher, I studied my mother's illness and traditional Chinese medicine, from symptoms to pathology, from etiology to medication. Drugstore pounded, ground herbs, sifted powder, made medicines, made the prepared medicines into pills, witnessed the herbs turning into pills, and gratefully waited for mother's recovery.

Now, Chinese medicine is the spark of inheritance. My dream is inside, and I am always ready to be outside.

Throughout the ages, stories about Chinese medicine have been carried by cars, but the story of spring warmth in Xinglin always shines with unique light. During the Three Kingdoms period, Dong Feng, a famous doctor in Dongwu, saved lives and got something for nothing. As a thank-you gift, the patient planted apricot trees in Lushan Mountain. In less than three years, Lushan Mountain was full of apricot trees. On a warm spring day, apricot blossoms in Xinglin are in full bloom and charming as snow, so people spread that "Xinglin" is the name of a good doctor who saves lives. If my childhood medicine cabinet lattice is my ignorant longing and expectation for Chinese medicine, then my mother's cure is to establish my belief in Xinglin dream and Chinese medicine dream, become the inheritor of Chinese medicine thinking, and help more people who need help like my mother.

Throughout China's 5,000-year long history, Chinese medicine developed and precipitated thousands of years ago, and experienced setbacks for a hundred years. At the beginning of the 20th century, the times changed from old to new, and western scientific thoughts flourished. Western medicine followed western science and technology into China, which had a fierce impact on Chinese medicine. Since then, some people have used the "science" of western medicine as a benchmark to measure Chinese medicine, and the slogans of "abolishing Chinese medicine" and "making Chinese medicine scientific" have appeared one after another. Today's session of Chinese medicine, despite the lack of talents, inheritance and innovation, is in urgent need of new development, but it is not dying, but the charcoal fire that has been burning has been covered with a thin layer of ash, just waiting for a strong wind to blow it more vigorously. And I, the future Qian Qian, will raise a gust of wind and ignite the blazing fire of Chinese medicine dream.

Chinese medicine is a bright lamp, which illuminates my progress and points out the direction when I am confused; It is the motivation to push me forward and give encouragement when I am frustrated; It is the spiritual substance when I climb, and it gives me energy when I am tired.

For me, the dream of Chinese medicine is just like angelica, which I held tightly in my childhood. It is spicy, warm and sweet, with arduous dreams and a long way to go. But I have never forgotten the warmth of Chinese medicine, hoping to give back to the world with warmth and hope that the world is sweet. Angelica sinensis, Angelica sinensis, should be returned.