Yesterday I took son to the clinic opened by Doctor Wang, a retired surgeon from our local hospital. The clinic is located in the front block of our housing estate. I thought if he could diagnose son's disease accurately and treat it successfully, we would spare the trouble to go to the hospital in the provincial town. After making a quick inspection of son's spotted back, he diagnosed it as endocrinopathy, which did not matter and could be cured by some special ointment according to Wang. He had ever cured me of the injured toe and the itching patch on my stomach. So I decided to continue to seek medical help from him this time. His diagnosis and treating method relieved us of our unnecessary anxieties. He pointed out the name of the ointment on the list of drugs, which happened to be out of stock at the moment. It would be available three days later. I thanked him and promised to come back for the ointment afterwards. Shortly after leaving the clinic, son showed his intention to buy the ointment in some drugstore. I expressed my objection to the idea at once. I said we shouldn't leave him unrewarded.