In A004, it was mentioned that after needling Zusanli (Stomach 36), a warm current flows up along the stomach meridian from the second and third toes. At the time of writing, to emphasize the key point, a preceding step was omitted. Before the warm current appears, there is first some tearing pain, which should be the rapid opening of originally narrow passages, thereby causing the tearing pain. A similar experience is also recorded in the moxibustion experience in A029, where initially there is a fine line of tearing pain followed by the warm current passing through. In addition, there are many similar experiences that will not be detailed one by one here.
Combining these experiences, I assumed that the process of opening these passages (unsure whether these passages correspond exactly to the main, extraordinary, collateral, fractional, floating, or descendant channels of the meridian system—so for now, they are collectively called “passages”) follows a similar procedure: first open, then deliver energy.
However, today I happened to drink a bit of Chuanbei loquat syrup and felt a different way, so I am recording it here.
First, here is a copy of the ingredient list of the Chuanbei loquat syrup. In Chinese medicine packages, the closer to the front, the higher the ingredient proportion, but the exact amount is unknown; excipients are counted separately (it seems that honey, maltose, and syrup are the main components, haha).
Fritillaria cirrhosa, loquat leaf, Nansha ginseng, poria, orange peel, platycodon, pinellia, schisandra, trichosanthes seed, coltsfoot flower, polygala root, bitter apricot seed, dried ginger herb, apricot kernel water, menthol, with excipients of honey, maltose, syrup.
It can be seen that the main effects are nourishing lung yin, clearing heat and resolving phlegm, and then some cough suppression. The first impression when opening the bottle cap was a relatively faint almond scent.
Pouring it out, the impression was a color deeper and viscosity looser than honey.
Taking the first sip, first came menthol, but its flavor was not strong, even weaker than some menthol candies. Then came the sweetness of honey (because I have never tasted pure maltose or pure syrup, I just know what honey tastes like, which basically matches what I think honey should be). Within the sweetness, there was a faint bitter almond taste.
After a few sips, the sweetness gradually became less attention-grabbing. Menthol was still relatively appealing, but more fleeting, less dominant. Now I can distinguish the top, middle, and base notes: the top note is menthol, the middle note is honey mixed with bitter almond, and the base note is a mixed herbal medicine taste. This is an abstract term because I cannot pinpoint exactly which herbal notes they are, but it is the kind of impression left by mixed Chinese herbs. This base note is mainly sensed on the sides of the tongue and at the root of the tongue.
As I slowly kept drinking, first the esophagus and stomach felt cool, and then with breathing, the lungs also felt cooler. This is easy to understand, given the menthol.
But while continuing to drink, something interesting happened: from above the right side of the stomach, along the ribs, little by little moving upward to the armpit, there was a sensation like oil slowly lubricating along a fissure. Unlike the previous acupuncture and moxibustion experience where the passage was first torn open then warmed, this time it was gentle and had a slight coolness. The former is like forcibly tearing off gauze during dressing change; the latter is like first applying iodine and then gently removing the gauze (those who often change dressings would know). The warming temperature of the former is roughly like urine flowing onto the leg (yes, I have experienced that). The coolness of the latter feels like touching a piece of jade.
When this fissure was fully lubricated, it felt like tissues that were previously somewhat torn were glued together, becoming a whole. That was about it, no more.
Afterword
Every time I practice qigong, undergo acupuncture, or take medicine, the reactions observed in my body always feel very interesting and magical.
The human body is truly marvelous.
This experience completed the feeling of nourishing from the two perspectives of yin and yang. These two words are really very apt — I cannot think of better words to summarize their sensations: yin is moistening, and yang is warming.