Chapter 2 — A Debt the Qin Family Cannot Repay

The first thing Qin Zhenguo heard when he regained consciousness was the steady beeping of a heart monitor.

The second was his granddaughter crying.

“Ruoxi…”

Qin Ruoxi's head snapped up.

“Grandfather!”

She had been sitting beside the hospital bed for nearly three hours, still wearing the same dark business suit from that morning. Her usually immaculate hair had loosened around her face, and there were faint red marks around her eyes.

Qin Zhenguo tried to move.

Pain immediately spread across his chest.

“Don't.” She pressed him gently back against the pillow. “The doctors said you need to rest.”

The old man's eyes moved around the room.

Private hospital suite.

Monitoring equipment.

IV line.

Two bodyguards outside the glass door.

He frowned.

“What happened?”

Ruoxi hesitated.

“You collapsed outside the Grand Imperial.”

A few fragments returned.

Morning meeting.

Chest tightness.

Coldness spreading through his limbs.

Then darkness.

Qin Zhenguo looked at her.

“How long?”

“Your heart stopped.”

His expression changed.

“For how long?”

“The doctor at the scene wasn't sure. Several minutes.”

He became silent.

Qin Ruoxi pulled her chair closer.

“Grandfather…”

“What?”

“There was someone.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“What someone?”

“A man.”

That earned her a faintly irritated look.

“I assumed it wasn't a horse.”

Despite herself, Ruoxi almost smiled.

Then her expression became serious again.

“He saved you.”

Qin Zhenguo's fingers moved against the blanket.

“What hospital?”

“He didn't take you here.”

“Then who was he?”

“I don't know.”

Qin Zhenguo stared at her.

Ruoxi felt increasingly ridiculous the longer she explained it.

“He was walking past. He came through the crowd, said the doctor performing CPR couldn't save you, then used acupuncture.”

“Acupuncture?”

“Three needles.”

The heart monitor continued its steady rhythm.

Qin Zhenguo's gaze slowly sharpened.

“Three?”

Ruoxi nodded.

“He put in three needles. After that, your pulse came back.”

Her grandfather remained still.

“That quickly?”

“Less than a minute.”

For the first time since waking, Qin Zhenguo looked genuinely unsettled.

“Where is he?”

“He left.”

“He left?”

“He said you needed a hospital.”

Qin Zhenguo waited.

Ruoxi knew exactly what question was coming next.

“I tried to pay him.”

“And?”

“He asked me for twenty yuan.”

The old man stared at her.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Finally:

“You offered him twenty yuan for my life?”

“No!”

Ruoxi's cheeks flushed.

“I offered him whatever he wanted. Money. Property. Anything.”

“And he asked for twenty?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He said one of our cars nearly splashed his daughter yesterday and she dropped her ice cream.”

Silence again.

Qin Zhenguo slowly leaned his head back against the pillow.

Then he began to laugh.

The monitor immediately responded.

“Grandfather!”

“I'm fine.”

“You nearly died this morning!”

“That doesn't mean I've forgotten how to laugh.”

His laughter faded.

But the amusement remained in his eyes.

“A physician who brings me back from death and asks only for his daughter's ice cream.”

Ruoxi crossed her arms.

“He was extremely rude.”

“Good.”

She blinked.

“Good?”

“Most people become very polite when they hear my name.”

“He didn't.”

“Exactly.”

Qin Zhenguo turned toward the window.

Jiangzhou stretched beyond the glass.

Glass towers.

Traffic.

Construction cranes.

A city in which the Qin family possessed influence almost everywhere one looked.

Yet this morning, none of that had mattered.

Money had not restarted his heart.

Influence had not made him breathe.

A stranger with three needles had.

“Find him.”

Ruoxi nodded.

“I already have people checking cameras around the hotel.”

“No.”

She looked at him.

“Don't investigate him like an enemy.”

“But—”

“Find him respectfully.”

His voice had changed.

The warmth disappeared.

The chairman of the Qin family had returned.

“Someone capable of saving my life with three needles is either an extraordinary physician…”

He paused.

“…or something considerably more troublesome.”

Ruoxi thought of the strange calm in Lu Chen's eyes.

“I don't think he wants anything from us.”

“That,” Qin Zhenguo said, “may make him more valuable than everyone who does.”

The door opened.

A doctor entered with a file in his hands.

Behind him came the physician who had performed CPR at the hotel.

“Chairman Qin.”

Qin Zhenguo nodded.

The older doctor moved closer.

“Your tests are unusual.”

“That's a diplomatic way of saying you don't know what happened.”

The doctor hesitated.

“Yes.”

Ruoxi frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“His heart shows signs consistent with acute cardiac distress, but not enough to explain the complete arrest we were told occurred.”

“And the cause?”

“We haven't found one.”

Qin Zhenguo glanced at Ruoxi.

The physician from the hotel stepped forward.

“Chairman Qin, there is something else.”

“What?”

“The man who treated you said your heart wasn't the problem.”

The room became quiet.

The older doctor frowned.

“What exactly did he say?”

“He mentioned…”

The physician searched his memory.

“Something about the Pericardium Meridian being blocked.”

The senior doctor sighed.

“Traditional terminology.”

But Qin Zhenguo didn't dismiss it.

“What else?”

“He later claimed it was a heart problem.”

Ruoxi gave him a look.

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“He was trying to leave.”

The physician nodded reluctantly.

“I believe so.”

Qin Zhenguo's gaze settled on him.

“You watched him use the needles?”

“Yes.”

“Could an ordinary acupuncturist have done what he did?”

The physician was silent.

He clearly disliked the answer.

“No.”

“How difficult?”

“I have practiced Western medicine for fifteen years. I don't claim expertise in acupuncture.”

He paused.

“But no acupuncture treatment I know can restore a stopped heart in seconds.”

Qin Zhenguo closed his eyes.

“Interesting.”

No one noticed the faint shadow that crossed his expression.

Because Qin Zhenguo remembered something now.

Not from that morning.

From more than thirty years ago.

A name whispered among wealthy families and martial artists.

A place ordinary people didn't know existed.

And a physician who had once told him:

There are illnesses hospitals cannot diagnose because they aren't illnesses at all.

At nine thirteen, Lu Chen opened his clinic twenty-three minutes late.

Three people were already waiting outside.

Old Madam Zhou stood at the front with both hands on her hips.

“You're late.”

Lu Chen unlocked the door.

“I noticed.”

“My knees hurt.”

“They hurt yesterday.”

“They hurt more today.”

“Because you spent yesterday carrying sacks of rice after I told you not to.”

Madam Zhou looked offended.

“How do you know that?”

“Your grandson told me.”

“That traitor.”

Behind her, Uncle Chen from the noodle shop laughed.

“He also told me you ate pork belly after Doctor Lu said less fatty food.”

Madam Zhou turned on him.

“You put twice the oil in your noodles!”

“That is flavor.”

“That is grease!”

Lu Chen pushed open the clinic door.

“Everyone who intends to survive the argument may come inside.”

The two elderly neighbors immediately stopped fighting.

A young delivery driver sitting beside the entrance stared at them.

“Doctor Lu, are they always like this?”

“Yes.”

“You don't stop them?”

“I tried once.”

“What happened?”

“They both blamed me.”

The young man considered this.

“Fair.”

Lu Chen sat behind his consultation table.

“Madam Zhou first.”

She lowered herself into the chair.

“Knees.”

“I know.”

“My left one is worse.”

“I know.”

“You haven't examined me yet.”

“You walk past my window every morning.”

Madam Zhou frowned at him.

“You spy on old women?”

“I regret becoming a doctor every day.”

She slapped his arm.

Lu Chen smiled faintly.

This was his world now.

Simple illnesses.

Simple people.

Problems that could be solved without swords, sects, blood debts, or cultivators chasing ancient inheritances.

He preferred it.

Madam Zhou rolled up her trouser leg.

Lu Chen examined the joint.

Mild inflammation.

Age-related wear.

Nothing unusual.

He pressed two fingers below the knee.

“Ow!”

“You carried the rice on this side.”

She looked away.

Lu Chen reached for a jar of medicinal paste.

“Use this twice a day.”

“How much?”

“Thirty.”

“Yesterday you charged me twenty.”

“Yesterday you hadn't ignored my advice.”

“Robber.”

“You're free to visit a hospital.”

“Give me two jars.”

He placed them on the table.

Madam Zhou paid while muttering about greedy young people.

The next patient was Uncle Chen.

“Blood pressure?”

“Perfect.”

Lu Chen held out his hand.

Uncle Chen reluctantly placed his wrist on the table.

Lu Chen checked his pulse.

“Too much salt.”

“How can you feel salt?”

“I can smell your noodles from here.”

“That's not medicine.”

“Less salt.”

“My customers will complain.”

“Then they can come here with you.”

Uncle Chen stared at him.

“Sometimes I think you're bad for business.”

“And yet you're alive.”

“That does complicate the argument.”

The clinic door opened.

Sunlight entered first.

Then silence.

A man in a black suit stepped inside.

Then another.

Madam Zhou immediately lowered her voice.

Uncle Chen turned around.

Outside, a black luxury sedan had stopped beside the curb.

A second vehicle waited behind it.

The young delivery driver whispered:

“Whoa.”

Lu Chen didn't look up.

“If you're here for treatment, take a number.”

The first bodyguard stepped aside.

Qin Ruoxi entered.

She had changed clothes since the morning.

Cream blouse.

Black trousers.

Hair tied neatly behind her head.

And in her right hand—

a chocolate-covered ice cream cone.

Everyone stared at it.

Especially Qin Ruoxi.

She looked as though the object had personally insulted several generations of her family.

“Mr. Lu.”

Lu Chen finally looked up.

“You found me.”

“That wasn't difficult.”

“I'll have to become more difficult.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Then she placed the ice cream on the consultation table.

“Twenty yuan.”

Madam Zhou's ears practically moved.

Lu Chen glanced at the ice cream.

“That's not twenty yuan.”

“It cost twenty-six.”

“Then I owe you six.”

Qin Ruoxi stared at him.

Uncle Chen coughed suspiciously into his hand to hide a laugh.

“You don't owe me six yuan.”

“A debt is a debt.”

She took a slow breath.

“Fine. Consider it interest.”

“Usury is illegal.”

The delivery driver suddenly became intensely interested in the ceiling.

Qin Ruoxi's jaw tightened.

She had negotiated contracts worth hundreds of millions without losing her composure.

Somehow this man had become irritating within thirty seconds.

“My grandfather is awake.”

“Good.”

“He wants to meet you.”

“No.”

Her prepared speech died instantly.

“You haven't heard what he's offering.”

“I don't need to.”

“He wants to thank you personally.”

“He can recover personally.”

Qin Ruoxi leaned toward the table.

“Do you understand who my grandfather is?”

“Yes.”

“Then why—”

“Miss Qin.”

His voice remained calm.

But something in it made her stop.

“I saved him because he was dying in front of me.”

He looked toward the waiting patients.

“I didn't save him so your family would become involved in my life.”

Qin Ruoxi's expression changed slightly.

For the first time she studied the clinic properly.

The old wooden cabinets.

Cheap chairs.

A cracked corner of the wall.

The handwritten price list.

This wasn't the clinic of a man pretending not to care about money while secretly expecting a larger offer.

He genuinely seemed content here.

That was more confusing.

“My grandfather also wants you to examine him.”

Lu Chen's fingers stopped.

“Why?”

“The hospital can't determine what caused his cardiac arrest.”

That was expected.

“And?”

Qin Ruoxi hesitated.

“He believes you know.”

Lu Chen leaned back.

Old Qin was sharper than he had assumed.

“I told you. Heart problem.”

“You lied.”

The room became very quiet.

Madam Zhou slowly turned toward Uncle Chen.

He whispered:

“Definitely rich people business.”

Lu Chen looked at Qin Ruoxi.

“You've known me for less than a day and already accuse me of dishonesty.”

“You changed your diagnosis in thirty seconds.”

“Medicine evolves.”

Her eye twitched.

“Mr. Lu.”

“No.”

She stared at him for several seconds.

Then took a white card from her handbag.

No logo.

No company name.

Only a phone number embossed in black.

She placed it beside the ice cream.

“If you change your mind.”

Lu Chen looked at it.

“I won't.”

“My grandfather expected you to say that.”

“He sounds sensible.”

“So he told me to leave the card anyway.”

“He sounds less sensible.”

Ruoxi actually smiled this time.

Barely.

Then she turned toward the door.

The moment she moved, Lu Chen's expression changed.

His eyes shifted toward one of the bodyguards behind her.

Not the tall one.

The younger man.

Early thirties.

Broad shoulders.

Short hair.

There was a tiny discoloration beneath his left ear.

Ordinary eyes wouldn't have noticed anything.

Lu Chen's did.

His vision sharpened.

For an instant, golden threads appeared beneath the man's skin.

His Life Meridian.

Strong.

Healthy.

Trained.

But around the base of his neck—

a thin strand of black energy.

Lu Chen's smile vanished.

“Stop.”

Qin Ruoxi turned.

“What?”

Lu Chen pointed.

“Your bodyguard.”

The man immediately stiffened.

“What about me?”

“Come here.”

He frowned.

“Why?”

“Because you're going to fall down in approximately ten seconds.”

The clinic went silent.

The bodyguard looked at Qin Ruoxi.

Then back at Lu Chen.

“I'm perfectly fine.”

“Eight.”

“What?”

“Seven.”

His face hardened.

“You think this is funny?”

“Six.”

Qin Ruoxi suddenly remembered her grandfather on the pavement.

“Do what he says.”

The bodyguard reluctantly stepped forward.

“Five.”

His first step was normal.

The second wasn't.

His leg trembled.

“Four.”

He grabbed the edge of a chair.

“What…”

“Three.”

The color drained from his face.

“Two.”

His knees buckled.

The second bodyguard caught him before his head struck the floor.

Madam Zhou screamed.

Qin Ruoxi rushed forward.

“What happened?”

The man's eyes remained open, but his breathing had become shallow.

Lu Chen was already beside him.

He pressed two fingers against the man's neck.

There.

The black strand had tightened.

Same energy.

Different location.

Lu Chen's eyes turned cold.

This was no coincidence.

He opened his needle case.

Qin Ruoxi watched him.

“Is it the same thing that happened to my grandfather?”

Lu Chen didn't answer.

One needle entered below the man's ear.

Another at the shoulder.

The third at the wrist.

This time there was no subtlety.

A tiny trace of dark vapor escaped from the first needle.

No ordinary person would have noticed.

Lu Chen did.

And so did Qin Ruoxi.

Her face changed.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I saw it.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Lu Chen.”

It was the first time she had used his name.

His fingers paused.

The bodyguard gasped.

Air rushed back into his lungs.

The black strand shattered.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes fully.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” Lu Chen said.

“I don't faint.”

“You do now.”

The bodyguard looked deeply offended.

Qin Ruoxi ignored him.

Her gaze remained fixed on Lu Chen.

“That was what happened to Grandfather.”

It wasn't a question.

Lu Chen removed the needles.

“Take him to the hospital.”

“You know it was.”

“He'll be fine.”

“Who did this?”

“No idea.”

“But someone did it?”

Lu Chen finally looked at her.

He had wanted no involvement.

Five years of obscurity.

Five years building a quiet life.

Five years ensuring nobody from the cultivation world connected the name Lu Chen with the Ghost Physician.

And now, in one morning, he had encountered the same foreign energy twice.

Once inside Qin Zhenguo.

Once inside his bodyguard.

That wasn't an attack on a single person.

Someone was targeting the Qin family.

And whoever it was knew how to manipulate meridians.

Which meant they belonged to the world Lu Chen had abandoned.

“Miss Qin.”

Qin Ruoxi waited.

“For the next few days, don't let your grandfather eat or drink anything that hasn't been checked.”

Her expression hardened.

“Poison?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Lu Chen closed the wooden needle case.

“Something worse.”

The two words silenced the room.

Qin Ruoxi stared at him.

“How much do you know?”

“Enough to tell you not to ask.”

“That isn't an answer.”

“It is the only one you're getting.”

The bodyguard slowly stood with assistance.

Lu Chen returned behind his table.

“Also…”

Qin Ruoxi stopped.

“If your grandfather feels cold for no reason, especially around midnight, call me.”

She looked at the white card still lying on his table.

“You just said you wouldn't get involved.”

“I changed my mind.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Medicine evolves.”

For several seconds, she simply stared.

Then she laughed.

It was the first genuine laugh he had heard from her.

“All right, Doctor Lu.”

She walked toward the door.

“We'll be in touch.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.”

The clinic returned to normal only after the black cars disappeared.

Or at least attempted to.

Madam Zhou sat down directly across from Lu Chen.

“Who was she?”

“A patient relative.”

“Pretty.”

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

“Madam Zhou.”

“Single?”

“I don't know.”

“Rich?”

“Obviously.”

“You need a wife.”

“I need quieter neighbors.”

“You have a daughter.”

“I am aware.”

“A girl needs a mother.”

“I also need rent money.”

“Rich wife solves both.”

Uncle Chen nodded thoughtfully.

“Strong argument.”

Lu Chen looked at both of them.

“Shouldn't you be working?”

They left five minutes later, still discussing his nonexistent wedding.

Lu Chen finally had a moment alone.

He opened the needle case.

The third needle used on the bodyguard had changed.

A nearly invisible black line stained its tip.

He placed it beneath a small magnifying lens.

Then touched it gently with his finger.

His inner world stirred.

Deep within his abdomen, where a cultivator's dantian should have been, there was only emptiness.

At least, that was how ordinary cultivators would perceive it.

Lu Chen knew better.

Beneath the emptiness floated something smaller than a grain of sand.

A point of pale golden light.

His shattered core.

Or what remained of it.

The moment his finger touched the black residue, the golden point trembled.

Lu Chen's eyes opened.

A faint pulse traveled through his body.

The stain vanished.

Consumed.

Lu Chen stared at the needle.

“No.”

That shouldn't have happened.

His cultivation had been destroyed five years ago.

His meridians had been broken.

His dantian shattered.

He had survived only because his master had used the last of his strength to preserve Lu Chen's life.

Since then, ordinary spiritual qi had rejected him.

He could sense it.

Manipulate tiny traces through medical techniques.

But he could no longer cultivate it normally.

Yet just now—

his shattered core had absorbed the foreign energy.

Lu Chen closed his eyes again.

The pale golden point was slightly brighter.

So little that anyone else would have dismissed it.

Lu Chen did not.

He had spent his life studying changes smaller than the tremor of a pulse.

Something inside him was rebuilding.

Not with spiritual qi.

With something else.

His mind returned to the moment Qin Zhenguo's pulse had restarted.

There had been a sensation then.

Warmth.

Very faint.

Almost like something had entered his body when the old man's Life Meridian stabilized.

Lu Chen had ignored it.

Now he reconsidered.

He stood and locked the clinic door.

Then sat cross-legged on the treatment bed.

His breathing slowed.

One breath.

Two.

Three.

The world became quiet.

Lu Chen looked inward.

Broken meridians.

Scarred pathways.

The remains of a cultivation foundation that should never function again.

And in the center—

the golden point.

This time, he noticed something orbiting it.

A thread.

So faint it was almost transparent.

Warm.

Alive.

Lu Chen's heart beat faster.

He knew spiritual qi.

He knew blood essence.

He knew yin energy, yang energy, killing intent, soul force, medicinal qi and dozens of other energies recorded in the Valley of Nine Medicines.

This wasn't any of them.

The thread carried something unmistakable.

Life.

Pure, concentrated vitality.

His master's voice surfaced from memory.

Medicine and cultivation were never separate paths.

Cultivators steal qi from Heaven and Earth.

Physicians borrow life from no one.

Remember that distinction.

Lu Chen opened his eyes.

For five years, those words had meant nothing.

Now—

perhaps they meant everything.

A knock came from the clinic door.

Lu Chen immediately ended his meditation.

“Closed.”

The knocking continued.

“I said closed.”

“Daddy!”

He froze.

Then looked at the wall clock.

Four twenty-seven.

Lu Chen's face changed.

He had promised to pick Xiaoxiao up early.

He had completely forgotten.

“Daddy!”

The knocking became furious.

“Open the door!”

Lu Chen slowly stood.

There were enemies who had once surrounded him with swords.

There were cultivators whose names frightened entire provinces.

None had made him feel what he felt walking toward that door.

He unlocked it.

Xiaoxiao stood outside.

Her kindergarten teacher was beside her.

Tiny backpack.

Pink shoes.

Arms crossed.

Cheeks puffed.

Absolutely furious.

Lu Chen looked at the teacher.

She smiled.

“I thought I'd bring her home. You were seventeen minutes late.”

Xiaoxiao lifted one finger.

“Seventeen.”

Lu Chen swallowed.

“I can explain.”

“You promised.”

“I was treating someone.”

“You always say that.”

“I actually was.”

She stared at him.

Then noticed the melting ice cream sitting on the consultation table.

Her eyes widened.

“Chocolate?”

Lu Chen looked at it.

Then at her.

“Yes.”

Xiaoxiao's anger weakened visibly.

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“Because you're sorry?”

“Yes.”

She considered the situation with enormous seriousness.

“How sorry?”

“Very.”

“Can I have two?”

Lu Chen hesitated.

Xiaoxiao narrowed her eyes.

“Seventeen minutes.”

“…Two.”

She immediately smiled.

“I forgive you, Daddy!”

Her teacher burst out laughing.

Lu Chen stared at his daughter.

He had been manipulated.

Again.

Xiaoxiao ran inside.

Then stopped.

She noticed the white card on the table.

And the expensive car disappearing at the far end of the street.

Her eyes grew curious.

“Daddy.”

“No.”

“I didn't ask anything.”

“I know what you're going to ask.”

“Was there a pretty auntie?”

Lu Chen looked toward the ceiling.

“Why me?”

Xiaoxiao climbed onto the chair.

“Was she?”

“Yes.”

Her face lit up.

“Did you get her phone number?”

Lu Chen glanced at the white card.

Unfortunately.

Xiaoxiao followed his gaze.

Her eyes widened.

Then she clasped both hands together.

“Daddy!”

“No.”

“You finally did something useful!”

“Eat your ice cream.”

She grabbed the cone happily.

Lu Chen shook his head and began preparing dinner.

For a few minutes, the clinic was peaceful again.

He almost convinced himself the morning's events could be contained.

Then, twenty kilometers away, beneath an abandoned warehouse on Jiangzhou's western outskirts, a man opened his eyes.

He sat before a stone table covered in strange black markings.

Two small clay lamps burned in front of him.

One extinguished.

Then the second.

The man's expression darkened.

Behind him, a kneeling figure lowered his head.

“Master?”

The man touched one of the dead flames.

“Both Heart-Locking Threads were destroyed.”

The kneeling figure looked up.

“Impossible. Qin Zhenguo should already be dead.”

“He isn't.”

“Then the hospital—”

“No hospital doctor could break my technique.”

The man stood.

His dark robe moved without wind.

“Someone interfered.”

“Who?”

The cultivator's eyes narrowed.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then he smiled.

“Find out.”

The kneeling man bowed.

“And if we find the person?”

The smile disappeared.

“Bring me his hands.”

Above them, the second extinguished lamp suddenly cracked.

Neither man noticed the thin trace of golden light that briefly appeared across its surface.

Far away, inside a small clinic, Lu Chen paused while chopping vegetables.

His knife stopped.

A strange coldness passed through the room.

Xiaoxiao looked up from her ice cream.

“Daddy?”

Lu Chen stared toward the western side of the city.

His expression became unreadable.

“Nothing.”

He resumed chopping.

But deep inside his shattered core, the pale golden light pulsed once.

Someone had noticed him.

And for the first time in five years—

Lu Chen noticed them back.