An Unexpected Visitor at the Minister’s Door

In the winter of 1890, the residence of Weng Tonghe, one of the most powerful officials in the Qing imperial court, received an unusual visitor. Across the street lived Xu Yanzuo, a minor official who had purchased his position through the traditional donation system and was awaiting assignment. The two men represented different worlds within the same bureaucratic system—one a respected statesman and imperial tutor, the other an ambitious newcomer viewed with suspicion for his modern ways.

Xu had gained something of a reputation among Weng’s household staff. Having lived extensively in Shanghai, he had adopted Western manners and ideas that set him apart from traditional officials. Servants described him as boastful, unreliable, and “not resembling a proper senior official.” When Xu appeared at Weng’s gate requesting an audience, the minister initially refused, considering him an eccentric not worth his time.

Yet persistence marked Xu’s character. He insisted through the household manager that his business was urgent, unrelated to seeking favors or position. “I wish to speak because Minister Weng is a senior court official respected by Prince Chun,” he declared. “For anyone else, I wouldn’t bother with this matter!” This unusual assertion finally persuaded the reluctant minister to grant an audience.

The Bold Proposition

The meeting began without traditional courtesies. Xu offered a simple bow rather than the full ceremonial greeting expected toward a high-ranking official, displaying what might be interpreted as either confidence or arrogance. He immediately came to his point: “I have come regarding Prince Chun’s illness. Everyone says he cannot recover, but they are wrong. I can cure him, and if three doses of my medicine show no effect, I will accept punishment.”

Weng responded coldly, disliking the man’s presumptuous tone. “What gives you such confidence?”

Xu explained that imperial physicians typically could only treat minor ailments, noting that even Empress Dowager Cixi had been cured by outside doctors when palace physicians failed. More significantly, he had studied the prince’s medical records and believed the imperial doctors had misdiagnosed the case entirely. Quoting from the medical texts of renowned physician Ye Tianshui, Xu described the illness as one of melancholy and spiritual distress, requiring warming rather than cooling treatments.

Weng recognized the accuracy of this assessment but grew increasingly uncomfortable. Cutting to the chase, he asked what Xu wanted from him. The answer was straightforward: a recommendation to treat Prince Chun. Xu believed Weng’s influence with the emperor and respect from the prince could open doors closed to an unknown physician.

The minister dismissed the idea entirely, explaining that no one could recommend physicians for imperial relatives without proper authorization. When Xu suggested Weng simply petition the emperor directly, the minister smiled faintly and politely ended the audience, dismissing what he considered absurd pretensions.

The Imperial Surprise

Four or five days later, Emperor Guangxu unexpectedly questioned Weng about Xu Yanzuo. Cautiously, the minister acknowledged knowing of his neighbor but emphasized they had no relationship. The emperor then revealed the astonishing news: Xu had gone directly to Prince Chun’s residence, offering his services with the same three-dose guarantee. Against expectations, his treatment had shown results—the prince’s right hand had regained slight movement.

The emperor described the prescription: a traditional formula called “Minor Construct the Middle Decoction,” typically used for headaches and fever with sweating and wind aversion. The formula contained cinnamon twigs, licorice, peony, ginger, jujube, and malt sugar—hardly what one would expect for a serious neurological condition. Additionally, Xu had recommended fish oil purchased from Western suppliers, which was gaining reputation for treating consumptive conditions.

Weng, though surprised, acknowledged that if the treatment proved effective, continued care seemed warranted. The emperor agreed, noting he had already said as much to Empress Dowager Cixi.

The Rise of an Unconventional Physician

Suddenly, Xu Yanzuo found himself transformed from obscure candidate to honored guest at Prince Chun’s mansion. Each morning, a blue-canopied carriage arrived at his door bearing the prince’s crest. His days followed a luxurious routine: examination and consultation, followed by hours of conversation with household officials who addressed him with newfound respect. Luncheon featured bird’s nest soup and other delicacies, followed by additional examination, leisurely conversation, and tours of the magnificent gardens. Evening brought a final consultation before his return home, accompanied by generous gifts of food and valuable antiques or artworks.

For ten days, the prince showed steady improvement. His right hand and left leg regained mobility, fueling Xu’s confidence. Emboldened by success, he prescribed what he considered the next logical step: five fen of deer antler velvet taken with yellow wine.

The Imperial Intervention

This prescription triggered immediate concern among the prince’s household staff. The senior steward questioned whether such a heating substance was appropriate. Xu dismissed these concerns with characteristic confidence: “Medicine isn’t about hot or cold properties—it’s about matching the treatment to the condition.”

The steward, following established protocols, sent the prescription to the palace for review. Empress Dowager Cixi had mandated that any prescription containing potentially dangerous heating or cooling components required imperial approval before use. Deer antler velvet, known as a “great tonic for true yang,” certainly qualified as potentially risky.

By noon, the response arrived. Palace physicians, particularly Zhuang Shouhe, had influenced the empress dowager’s decision. Not only was the prescription rejected, but Xu himself was barred from further treating the prince. The empress dowager deemed his use of powerful medicines reckless and dangerous.

The Cultural Context of Qing Medicine

This episode reveals the complex medical landscape of late imperial China. The Qing court maintained an entire system of imperial physicians trained in traditional methods, yet their effectiveness against serious illnesses often proved limited. The tension between established medical authority and innovative approaches created constant friction within elite circles.

Xu Yanzuo represented a new type of medical practitioner emerging in treaty ports like Shanghai—men exposed to Western medical concepts who integrated them with traditional Chinese practice. His recommendation of fish liver oil alongside traditional herbal formulas illustrates this hybrid approach. Western medicines were gaining reputation among Chinese who had contact with foreign settlements, particularly for nutritional deficiencies and chronic conditions.

The political dimensions of imperial healthcare cannot be overstated. Treatment of royal family members involved numerous stakeholders beyond simply the patient and physician. Palace officials, senior ministers, and competing medical practitioners all influenced medical decisions, often based on professional jealousy or political considerations rather than purely medical concerns.

Social Hierarchy and Medical Authority

Xu’s story dramatically illustrates how social standing affected medical practice in late Qing China. Despite demonstrating genuine therapeutic success, his status as a donation-based official without proper medical credentials made him vulnerable to dismissal. The imperial physicians who opposed him represented established interests threatened by his unconventional methods.

The episode also reveals the intricate protocols governing interaction with the imperial family. Everything from transportation arrangements to meal service followed strict hierarchies designed to reinforce social distinctions. Xu’s sudden elevation from minor functionary to honored guest—complete with luxurious carriage, elaborate meals, and valuable gifts—demonstrates how quickly status could change based on perceived utility to the powerful.

The Legacy of Medical Conservatism

The rejection of Xu’s treatment reflects broader patterns in late Qing responses to innovation. While practical technologies like steamships and firearms were gradually adopted, medical practices faced greater resistance due to their connection with bodily integrity and cultural tradition. The conservative approach favored by Empress Dowager Cixi and her physicians ultimately prioritized safety and tradition over potential breakthrough treatments.

This caution had consequences. Prince Chun, formally known as Yixuan, father of Emperor Guangxu and brother-in-law to Empress Dowager Cixi, continued to suffer health problems until his death in 1891. Whether Xu’s treatments might have produced better outcomes remains an unanswerable historical question, but the episode illustrates how political considerations routinely influenced medical decisions in imperial contexts.

Modern Perspectives on Historical Healthcare

From a contemporary viewpoint, Xu’s approach contains elements that seem remarkably forward-thinking. His use of cod liver oil—now known to be rich in anti-inflammatory compounds and vitamins—suggests observational skills that recognized nutritional benefits before vitamins were scientifically understood. His combination of traditional herbal formulas with Western supplements represents an early example of integrative medicine.

The case also highlights the universal tension between medical establishment and innovators throughout history. New ideas often face resistance from entrenched interests, regardless of their potential benefits. Xu’s confidence—interpreted as arrogance by his contemporaries—mirrors that of many medical innovators who challenged conventional wisdom.

Reflections on Historical Interpretation

This episode, preserved through Weng Tonghe’s diaries and official records, offers fascinating insights into late Qing society beyond the obvious medical dimensions. The detailed account of interactions between officials of different ranks reveals subtle codes of conduct and communication that governed elite society. The precise descriptions of medical formulations and protocols demonstrate sophisticated systems of knowledge management within the imperial household.

What makes this story particularly compelling is its human dimension—the ambitious outsider, the skeptical minister, the suffering prince, and the powerful empress dowager all navigating complex social and medical landscapes. Their decisions were shaped by personal beliefs, professional rivalries, and cultural traditions that sometimes conflicted with practical outcomes.

The tale of Xu Yanzuo reminds us that history often turns on small moments—a refused audience, a questioned prescription, a persuasive word from a rival. In the closed world of the Qing court, where tradition weighed heavily against innovation, even demonstrated success could not always overcome established hierarchies and conservative instincts. Yet the brief flourishing of this unconventional healer illustrates how new ideas persistently challenged old certainties, even in the most traditional societies.