Western Medicine Keeps You Alive, Chinese Medicine Helps You Live Well（ No. 100）

All the diseases we encounter in clinical practice can be re-examined through the lens of the “Four-Level Thinking Framework.”
Level One and Level Two diseases determine whether a person can stay alive.
Level Three and Level Four diseases determine whether a person can live well.

Chinese medicine and Western medicine are not in competition. They simply operate at different layers of human illness.

Level One and Level Two diseases belong to the domain of Western medicine. They come quickly, have clear locations and identifiable causes, progress rapidly, and threaten life. They must be treated immediately. Acute infections, severe trauma, myocardial infarction, stroke, organ failure, malignant tumors, septic shock, acute nerve compression, traumatic fractures—these are all classic Level One and Level Two conditions. Here, Western medicine is irreplaceable. Antibiotics save lives, surgeries repair damage, ICUs sustain vital functions, tumors can be removed, and chemo-radiation can prolong survival.

If a Level One problem is not resolved, a person cannot survive. This is the most fundamental truth of medicine.

At this level, Chinese medicine has almost no place to intervene. Not because Chinese medicine is ineffective, but because Level One diseases require external forces—surgery, drugs, emergency interventions. When life is in danger, the body’s self-regulating ability simply does not have room to function.
Saving a life depends on Western medicine. Western medicine keeps people alive.

Level Three and Level Four diseases are completely different. They do not kill quickly, but they make people suffer for years. Tests often come back “normal,” yet the symptoms are real enough to bring tears. Their causes are not a single point but a web—affecting meridians, rhythms, tension systems, and the autonomic nervous system. Chronic pain, long-term fatigue, sleep disorders, recurrent migraines, autonomic imbalance, psychosomatic symptoms, compensatory pain chains, widespread body aches—these conditions do not take lives, but they can ruin a person’s quality of life.

And this is precisely the domain where Chinese medicine excels.

The true strength of Chinese medicine lies in restoring internal order—regulating qi and blood, harmonizing meridians, resetting rhythms, balancing tension fields, calming the emotions, and most importantly, activating the body’s innate healing force.

Level Three and Level Four diseases are not “external” diseases. They arise because the body has drifted off its proper course. Autonomic imbalance, dysregulated mind–body coupling, disturbed tension chains, obstructed qi–blood flow, disrupted circadian rhythms, weakened self-healing capacity—none of these can be solved by surgery. Often, there is no medication for them. Ultimately, the solution must come from the body’s own ability to restore order.

And that is exactly what Chinese medicine does.
Pain reduces, sleep improves, emotions stabilize, appetite returns, and a person’s whole being brightens.
To live well—Chinese medicine plays an irreplaceable role.

Western medicine relies on external power.
Chinese medicine relies on internal power.
Western medicine repairs structural damage.
Chinese medicine restores systemic balance.
Western medicine deals with life and death.
Chinese medicine deals with living.

The two are not mutually exclusive; each fulfills its own mission. Modern Chinese people are fortunate—we operate with two complete medical systems.

Reaching the 100th essay means this series, “A Seasoned Doctor’s Self-Cultivation Notes,” ends here for now.
But my reflection on medicine, my effort to build a coherent framework, and my exploration of the essence of life—these journeys are far from over.

This is only the beginning.

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An Old Doctor’s Notes on Self-Cultivation (No. 99)

— Reinterpreting TCM with Modern Language: Pulse, Tongue, and the Five Systems

For many years, I believed Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and Western medicine were two separate systems—two different worlds that could never truly communicate. Only in recent years have I gradually realized that they were never two worlds at all. They are simply two ways of describing the same human system, shaped by different eras and different languages.

If we want TCM to move into the future, the first step is not “innovation,” nor the invention of new theories. The real beginning is rewriting the language. Once the language changes, the entire framework reshapes itself; and when the framework changes, the wall between TCM and Western medicine naturally dissolves.

One of the clearest examples is the pulse. We were taught that cun–guan–chi correspond to the heart, liver, spleen, lung, and kidney—as if the radial artery were a map of internal organs. But the radial artery is a single vessel; it cannot be divided into three anatomical zones. Today we can understand it differently: cun–guan–chi are not anatomical locations but three interpretive directions of one signal.
The cun position reflects the dynamic system—autonomic tone, circulatory force, sympathetic–parasympathetic balance.
The guan position reflects the metabolic system—digestive load, dampness, phlegm, dietary burden.
The chi position reflects the compensatory system—fluid balance, endocrine tone, and long-term energy reserves.

It is an information-classification method, not an anatomical map.
One input signal, interpreted through three functional dimensions.

Tongue diagnosis is similar. The tongue is not an imaging tool for organ pathology, nor is it merely a set of vague labels like “dampness” or “heat.” The tongue is a window into the body’s material state—a slow-changing layer that reveals the baseline of a person’s physiology.
Cold reflects slow metabolism and sluggish circulation.
Heat corresponds to inflammation and accelerated metabolism.
Dampness shows fluid burden.
Phlegm represents accumulated metabolic by-products.
Deficiency reflects insufficient energy or nutrients.
Stasis reflects micro-circulatory problems.

The tongue shows what is present in the body’s material layer.
The pulse shows how the system is currently operating.

One describes material, the other describes dynamics.
Once these two dimensions are separated, much of TCM’s confusion disappears.

The same applies to the Five Zang. They were never meant to be anatomical organs but metaphors for five functional systems. Ancient physicians had no vocabulary for neurology, endocrinology, immunology, or metabolism, so they borrowed organ names to represent systems. In modern language:
“Heart” refers to the nervous system + circulatory dynamics.
“Lung” refers to the respiratory system + superficial circulation + immune barrier.
“Liver” refers to the autonomic nervous system + fascial tension system.
“Spleen” refers to digestion + metabolic processing.
“Kidney” refers to fluid regulation + endocrine function + long-term compensation.

Once the Five Zang are translated from organs into systems, TCM aligns immediately with modern physiology. The language barriers vanish instantly.

When the pulse represents the dynamic layer, the tongue represents the material layer, and the Five Zang represent the system layer, these three forms of observation naturally form a complete modern medical framework. And the “Four-Level Thinking” model I have been shaping over the years—structure, chain, system, and regulation—happens to provide the larger map that integrates them all.
Point for structure,
Chain for connections,
Plane for systems,
Spirit for regulation.

Within this framework, TCM concepts like cold, heat, deficiency, and stagnation become logically explainable; Western medicine’s anatomy, imaging, and biomarkers also fit naturally into the system. They are not opposites, but complementary views; not rivals, but partners in a higher-level understanding of the human body.

This is why I often tell myself: in the future, there will no longer be “TCM” and “Western medicine.” Those terms belong to a historical stage. The medicine of the future will be integrated medicine—a unified, higher-dimensional model that explains the true complexity of human life.

When language is rebuilt,
when the framework is reorganized,
when ancient experience and modern science meet in the same coordinate system,
our understanding of medicine finally enters the next stage.