After Elder Lin stepped back, Xu Fan slowly approached the old man on the hospital bed, gently sat beside him, and then lightly placed his hand on the old man's wrist.
After listening intently for a few seconds, a look of puzzlement flickered in Xu Fan's eyes. He then pondered for a moment and said softly to Elder Lin, "His issue isn't an illness."
"Xu brother... Is there really no hope for him?" Elder Lin's face paled momentarily upon hearing Xu Fan's words.
"Don't panic just yet, Elder Lin. When I say it's not an illness, I don't mean that he can't be treated. You have all fallen into a misconception, considering the problem only from the perspective of treating an illness. You've overlooked a key point—if the patient isn't actually sick, then no diagnosis will reveal the problem. Hence, no matter how much medicine you use, it won't cure him," Xu Fan slowly withdrew his fingers from the elder's wrist and spoke calmly.