Chapter 3 — The Cold That Came at Midnight

At eleven fifty-eight that night, Lu Chen was negotiating with a sleeping child.

“Move over.”

Lu Xiaoxiao did not move.

She occupied the center of his bed with the absolute confidence of someone who paid neither rent nor utilities.

One small leg rested on Lu Chen’s pillow.

A pink rabbit was trapped beneath her arm.

Somewhere during the night, she had also stolen most of his blanket.

Lu Chen stood beside the bed and stared at her.

She had her own room.

A perfectly good room.

A perfectly good bed.

She simply refused to use either whenever she decided that “Daddy looked lonely.”

Lu Chen reached down and carefully moved her leg.

Xiaoxiao immediately rolled sideways and claimed the space again.

He frowned.

In the cultivation world, there had once been a sword formation containing seventy-two killing blades.

He had escaped it.

This was proving more difficult.

“Xiaoxiao.”

No response.

“Your ice cream is melting.”

Her eyes opened.

“Where?”

Lu Chen stared at her.

She stared back.

Then slowly closed her eyes again.

“That was mean.”

“You were asleep.”

“I was resting.”

“You were snoring.”

“I don't snore.”

“You absolutely snore.”

“That was Rabbit.”

The stuffed rabbit was apparently unavailable for comment.

Lu Chen finally gave up and lay down on the narrow strip of mattress left to him.

The apartment above the clinic had become quiet.

Outside, Jiangzhou still murmured.

Distant cars.

An occasional horn.

A motorcycle passing along the road below.

Normal sounds.

Ordinary sounds.

He had spent five years learning to appreciate them.

There had been a time when nights meant keeping one hand near a weapon.

When silence meant someone was hiding.

When an unfamiliar footstep could mean an assassin.

Those days were over.

At least, they were supposed to be.

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

Immediately, his attention turned inward.

The tiny golden point inside his shattered dantian remained there.

It was slightly brighter than it had been that morning.

The thread of strange vitality circling it had not disappeared.

He had tested it several times after closing the clinic.

It responded to his thoughts.

Barely.

When he tried to circulate it through his old cultivation pathways, it moved perhaps the width of a finger before the damaged meridian forced it back.

But that alone was impossible.

For five years, nothing had moved through those meridians.

He had swallowed rare medicines.

Tried breathing techniques.

Attempted to draw spiritual qi from herbs.

Once, out of desperation, he had even used a technique his master had explicitly forbidden.

Nothing.

His cultivation foundation had been dead.

Yet after saving Qin Zhenguo and his bodyguard, something had changed.

Life.

That was the only word Lu Chen had for the strange energy.

He thought again of his master.

Cultivators steal qi from Heaven and Earth.

Physicians borrow life from no one.

Lu Chen had misunderstood those words when he was younger.

Perhaps everyone had.

His eyes opened.

Xiaoxiao was staring at him.

Lu Chen almost jumped.

“What are you doing?”

Her face was less than twenty centimeters from his.

“Checking if you're sleeping.”

“I was.”

“No, you weren't.”

“How do you know?”

“You had your thinking face.”

“I don't have a thinking face.”

“You do.”

She demonstrated by furrowing her brows dramatically.

Lu Chen looked offended.

“I don't look like that.”

“You look worse.”

Before he could answer, his phone vibrated on the bedside table.

The screen illuminated the dark room.

Unknown Number

Lu Chen looked at the clock.

12:01 a.m.

His expression immediately changed.

Xiaoxiao noticed.

“Who is it?”

“Nobody.”

He reached for the phone.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Is it Pretty Auntie?”

“No.”

“You didn't even answer yet.”

Lu Chen stepped into the hallway and closed the bedroom door behind him.

Then he accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Doctor Lu.”

Qin Ruoxi.

Her voice sounded different.

No irritation.

No controlled businesslike confidence.

Fear.

Lu Chen leaned against the wall.

“What happened?”

“My grandfather suddenly became cold.”

His eyes narrowed.

“How cold?”

“He started shivering ten minutes ago. We increased the room temperature, but it isn't helping.”

“Temperature?”

“Thirty-five point one.”

“Conscious?”

“Yes, but confused.”

“Heart rate?”

“Rapid.”

“Hands?”

“What?”

“Look at his hands.”

There was movement on the other end.

Voices.

Then Ruoxi returned.

“His fingertips are turning blue.”

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

So it had begun.

“Is he still in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“Qin Medical Center, private wing.”

Of course the Qin family owned the hospital treating their patriarch.

“Do not let anyone give him another injection.”

There was a pause.

“Why?”

“No oral medication either.”

“Doctor Lu—”

“Listen carefully.”

Something in his voice silenced her.

“Anything administered since ten tonight. Medicine, water, food. Keep it. Don't throw anything away.”

Ruoxi's breathing quickened.

“You think someone poisoned him?”

“I think you're asking too many questions.”

“Can you come?”

Lu Chen looked toward his bedroom.

Through the partly closed door, he could see a small figure sitting upright beneath the blanket.

Watching him.

He sighed.

“I have my daughter.”

“I'll send someone to stay with her.”

“No.”

“My grandfather could die.”

“I know.”

Silence.

Lu Chen rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Give me the address.”

“I’m coming.”

“No.”

Xiaoxiao stood in the hallway wearing rabbit pajamas and one sock.

“You are absolutely not coming.”

She crossed her arms.

“You're going somewhere.”

“Yes.”

“At night.”

“Yes.”

“Pretty Auntie called you.”

“That part is irrelevant.”

“Then I'm coming.”

Lu Chen crouched.

“Xiaoxiao, someone is sick.”

“I can help.”

“You're four.”

“Four and a half.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“You turned four three months ago.”

“Almost half.”

“That's not how mathematics works.”

“It is for children.”

A knock sounded downstairs.

Too fast.

Qin Ruoxi had clearly sent a car before asking whether he had agreed.

Lu Chen sighed.

“Stay here.”

“No.”

“I'll call Grandma Chen.”

“No.”

“Uncle Chen?”

“He snores.”

“How do you know Uncle Chen snores?”

“The walls are thin.”

That was unfortunately true.

Another knock.

Xiaoxiao grabbed the bottom of Lu Chen's shirt.

“Daddy.”

He looked down.

The stubbornness had disappeared.

She suddenly looked exactly her age.

“You said you would stay.”

Lu Chen's expression softened.

He had promised that.

And five years ago, promises had become dangerous things.

Too many people had made them.

Too many had broken them.

He lifted her into his arms.

“I'll be back before you wake up.”

“But I'm awake now.”

He paused.

Technically correct.

“Before breakfast.”

“What if I wake up before breakfast?”

“You're already awake.”

Xiaoxiao frowned.

Lu Chen realized he had entered a conversation with no possible victory.

A second knock came from downstairs.

Then a familiar elderly voice shouted:

“Doctor Lu! If you don't open the door, these men in suits are going to frighten the whole neighborhood!”

Madam Zhou.

Lu Chen blinked.

Why was she awake?

He carried Xiaoxiao downstairs.

When he opened the clinic door, Madam Zhou stood outside in a floral sleeping gown and slippers.

Two Qin bodyguards stood behind her.

One of them looked genuinely intimidated.

“What are you doing here?” Lu Chen asked.

She pointed toward the black sedan.

“Cars like that don't arrive on this street after midnight unless someone is rich, dead, or both.”

“Go home.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see a patient.”

She glanced at Xiaoxiao.

“I'll watch her.”

Xiaoxiao immediately protested.

“No!”

Madam Zhou ignored her.

“You'll stay with me.”

“I want Daddy.”

“You can sleep in my room.”

“No.”

“I made sesame cakes.”

Xiaoxiao hesitated.

Lu Chen looked at her.

Traitor.

“How many?” she asked.

Madam Zhou smiled.

“As many as you want.”

“Daddy says too much sugar is bad.”

Madam Zhou gave Lu Chen an accusing look.

“He also lets you eat chocolate ice cream.”

“That was medical compensation.”

Lu Chen handed his daughter over.

“Two cakes.”

Madam Zhou scoffed.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“Two and a half.”

Lu Chen stared at her.

Why did everyone bargain with him using halves?

“Fine.”

Xiaoxiao wrapped her arms around Madam Zhou’s neck.

“Daddy.”

“What?”

“Save the patient.”

Lu Chen's expression softened again.

“I will.”

Then she added:

“And bring breakfast.”

There it was.

“Go to sleep.”

The trip to Qin Medical Center took eighteen minutes.

The driver broke several traffic laws.

Lu Chen did not comment.

He spent the journey looking through the window.

Midnight Jiangzhou was different from daytime Jiangzhou.

Fewer pedestrians.

More neon.

Glass buildings reflected red and blue signs onto wet pavement.

In another life, this city would have seemed strange to him.

Too loud.

Too crowded.

Too dependent on machines.

Now it felt like home.

The car turned toward a massive hospital complex.

The Qin Medical Center occupied an entire block.

Emergency department.

Research building.

Private inpatient tower.

Helicopter pad.

The lobby alone was probably worth more than everything on Lu Chen's street combined.

Qin Ruoxi was waiting.

She had changed from business clothes into a dark sweater and loose trousers.

Her hair wasn't tied properly.

For once, she looked less like an executive and more like a worried granddaughter.

“You came.”

“You called.”

She turned immediately.

“This way.”

They entered a private elevator.

“What's happened since we spoke?”

“His temperature dropped to thirty-four point seven.”

“Medication?”

“The doctors wanted to administer something for circulation.”

“And?”

“I stopped them.”

“Good.”

“They're furious.”

“Doctors usually are when families interfere.”

Ruoxi looked at him.

“You are a doctor.”

“That's why I know.”

The elevator doors opened.

Six medical staff waited outside the private suite.

An older physician stepped forward the instant he saw Lu Chen.

“Miss Qin, who is this?”

“The doctor who revived my grandfather this morning.”

Several expressions changed.

One did not.

A tall man around fifty wearing a white coat frowned.

“This is the acupuncturist?”

Lu Chen glanced at his badge.

Dr. Zhao Mingde — Director of Cardiology

“Yes,” Ruoxi said.

Dr. Zhao looked Lu Chen up and down.

There was no attempt to hide his skepticism.

“Chairman Qin is severely hypothermic with unstable cardiovascular function. We need to treat him.”

“Then why haven't you?”

The hallway went silent.

Dr. Zhao's expression hardened.

“Excuse me?”

“You've had at least ten minutes.”

“We're determining the cause.”

“So you don't know.”

“We know his core temperature is falling.”

“That isn't a cause.”

Ruoxi closed her eyes briefly.

Apparently Lu Chen had no instinct for diplomacy.

Dr. Zhao took a step forward.

“Mr. Lu, perhaps traditional medicine works differently, but in a hospital we require evidence before—”

“Then show me the evidence.”

Dr. Zhao stopped.

“His blood results.”

One of the younger doctors handed Lu Chen a tablet.

He read quickly.

Electrolytes.

Glucose.

Cardiac markers.

Toxicology screening.

Inflammatory markers.

Nothing explained the severity of the symptoms.

Lu Chen returned the tablet.

“No evidence.”

The younger doctor nearly smiled.

Dr. Zhao didn't.

“You cannot simply walk into my hospital—”

“Our hospital,” Qin Ruoxi corrected quietly.

Dr. Zhao became silent.

Lu Chen almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“Take me to the patient.”

Qin Zhenguo looked like a corpse trying to remember how to breathe.

His skin had become pale gray.

His lips were blue.

Despite several thermal blankets, his body shook violently.

His eyes moved toward Lu Chen.

Recognition flickered.

“You…”

“Don't talk.”

The old man attempted a smile.

“You came.”

“You're making me miss sleep.”

Qin Zhenguo's smile weakened.

“At my age… sleep isn't difficult.”

“Death would be easier. I'm trying to avoid that.”

Dr. Zhao inhaled sharply.

Ruoxi rubbed her forehead.

Qin Zhenguo actually laughed.

The laugh turned into a cough.

Lu Chen touched his wrist.

The moment his fingers made contact, the world changed.

The Life Meridian appeared.

Yesterday's dark knot near the heart was gone.

But now—

Lu Chen's eyes narrowed.

Thin black lines spread through Qin Zhenguo's body.

Not randomly.

They followed the twelve principal meridians.

Slowly.

Methodically.

Like frost crawling across glass.

This was different.

Yesterday's Heart-Locking Thread had been crude.

A single strand used to cause sudden collapse.

This technique was much more sophisticated.

Someone wasn't simply trying to kill Qin Zhenguo.

They were trying to make his death look natural.

Lu Chen followed the black energy.

Heart.

Lungs.

Kidneys.

Liver.

Then—

his gaze stopped at the old man's stomach.

Interesting.

“When did he last eat?”

Ruoxi answered.

“Dinner. Around seven.”

“What?”

“Rice porridge, vegetables, steamed fish.”

“After that?”

“Water.”

“Medicine?”

Dr. Zhao replied.

“His usual blood pressure medication at approximately nine.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

Lu Chen lifted Qin Zhenguo's left eyelid.

Then checked beneath his tongue.

He turned toward Ruoxi.

“Where's the water?”

She pointed to a bedside table.

A glass bottle.

Half empty.

“Don't touch it.”

Everyone looked at him.

Lu Chen walked over.

He didn't pick up the bottle.

Instead, he leaned closer.

Nothing unusual.

No smell.

No discoloration.

He focused.

The Life Meridian wasn't useful on objects.

But spiritual perception—

what little remained of it—

was.

He extended two fingers.

A faint sensation touched his skin.

Cold.

Wrong.

Lu Chen looked toward the doctors.

“Who brought this?”

A nurse stepped forward.

“The night staff. Bottled water is provided to all VIP rooms.”

“Sealed?”

“Yes.”

“Who opened it?”

The nurse hesitated.

“I think Chairman Qin's assistant.”

Ruoxi immediately looked toward the door.

“My grandfather's assistant?”

“Mr. Zhou.”

“Where is he?”

Nobody answered.

Ruoxi pulled out her phone.

“Find Zhou Kai.”

One of the bodyguards left immediately.

Dr. Zhao frowned.

“You believe something is in the water?”

“Maybe.”

“We tested for common poisons.”

“This isn't poison.”

“Then what is it?”

Lu Chen looked at him.

“If I tell you, you're going to argue.”

“Try me.”

“Fine.”

Lu Chen pointed toward Qin Zhenguo.

“Someone placed foreign yin energy inside his body.”

Silence.

Dr. Zhao stared at him.

“Yin energy.”

“Yes.”

“Inside bottled water.”

“Yes.”

The cardiologist looked toward Qin Ruoxi.

“Miss Qin.”

“I warned you,” Lu Chen said.

Dr. Zhao ignored him.

“We are dealing with a medical emergency. This is not the time for superstition.”

Lu Chen nodded.

“Agreed.”

Then he held out the bottle.

“Drink it.”

Dr. Zhao stopped.

Lu Chen's expression remained perfectly calm.

“If it's ordinary water, drink it.”

No one spoke.

Dr. Zhao looked at the bottle.

Then at Lu Chen.

“I don't need to prove—”

“Exactly.”

Lu Chen put it down.

Qin Ruoxi's gaze became cold.

“Seal the room.”

The bodyguards moved.

“Until we know who handled everything my grandfather consumed tonight, nobody connected to his care leaves the floor.”

Dr. Zhao looked displeased.

But this time he didn't argue.

Lu Chen returned to the bed.

Qin Zhenguo's temperature had dropped another tenth of a degree.

He opened his needle case.

Nine needles.

Yesterday he had needed three.

Tonight would be different.

Ruoxi noticed.

“You're using all of them?”

“Hopefully not.”

“That doesn't sound reassuring.”

“It wasn't meant to.”

He removed the first needle.

Then stopped.

His cultivation was nearly nonexistent.

Under normal circumstances, he could force the foreign energy out through acupuncture and his own remaining spiritual perception.

But this yin energy had already spread too far.

He needed strength he didn't have.

Unless—

Lu Chen's attention turned inward.

The golden point.

The thread of Life Essence.

He didn't know what it was.

Didn't know where it came from.

Didn't know what using it might do.

His master would have called that three excellent reasons not to touch it.

Lu Chen looked at Qin Zhenguo.

The old man's breathing weakened.

There was a fourth reason.

A patient was dying.

That usually outweighed the first three.

Lu Chen placed the needle.

First Needle — Open the Gate of Life.

Golden warmth moved.

His eyes widened.

The Life Essence obeyed him.

Not easily.

But it obeyed.

A tiny strand traveled from the golden point, through a damaged meridian, into his right hand.

Pain immediately followed.

Lu Chen's fingers trembled.

Ruoxi noticed.

“Are you all right?”

“Quiet.”

Second needle.

Sea of Qi.

Third.

Inner Pass.

The black energy inside Qin Zhenguo reacted violently.

His body arched.

The monitor alarm screamed.

“Heart rate increasing!” a nurse shouted.

Dr. Zhao stepped forward.

“Stop!”

“Don't touch him.”

“He's deteriorating!”

“I know.”

“Then stop!”

Lu Chen inserted the fourth needle.

The monitor climbed higher.

One hundred forty.

One hundred fifty.

Qin Ruoxi's face went pale.

“Doctor Lu…”

“Trust me.”

It was the first time he'd asked her to.

She looked at her grandfather.

Then at Lu Chen.

“Continue.”

Dr. Zhao turned toward her.

“Miss Qin!”

“I said continue.”

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

The fourth needle opened another pathway.

Golden Life Essence entered Qin Zhenguo's body.

The reaction was immediate.

Where gold met black, the foreign yin energy hissed.

Not audibly.

But Lu Chen felt it.

It resisted.

The strange thing was—

the Life Essence did not destroy it.

It purified it.

Black became gray.

Gray became transparent.

Then the energy simply dissolved into Qin Zhenguo's own Life Meridian.

Lu Chen's heart shook.

Impossible.

Spiritual qi could overpower foreign energy.

Yang qi could neutralize yin.

Certain flames could burn poison.

But this was different.

The Life Essence was repairing the damage while simultaneously converting the harmful energy into vitality.

It wasn't fighting.

It was healing.

The realization nearly broke Lu Chen's concentration.

His master's voice returned again.

The greatest physician does not defeat illness.

He restores what illness stole.

Lu Chen had heard the sentence hundreds of times.

Tonight, for the first time, he understood.

Fifth needle.

The black lines began retreating.

Qin Zhenguo stopped shaking.

“Temperature rising,” the nurse whispered.

Thirty-four point eight.

Thirty-five.

Thirty-five point three.

Dr. Zhao stepped closer to the monitor.

His disbelief was becoming difficult to hide.

“Blood pressure stabilizing.”

Lu Chen removed the fifth needle.

Then the fourth.

Then the third.

By the time he removed the final needle, Qin Zhenguo's skin had regained a trace of color.

The old man's eyes opened.

He looked at Lu Chen.

“You seem…”

His voice was weak.

“…very expensive.”

Lu Chen wiped sweat from his forehead.

“Tonight, I am.”

Qin Zhenguo smiled.

Then fell asleep.

A nurse checked him quickly.

“Stable.”

Dr. Zhao looked at the monitor.

Then at Lu Chen.

Then back at the monitor.

“What did you do?”

“Acupuncture.”

“That was not just acupuncture.”

“Progress.”

“His temperature rose almost a full degree in minutes.”

“Good.”

“You can't simply say good!”

Lu Chen closed the needle case.

“You're shouting in a patient's room.”

Dr. Zhao's mouth opened.

Then closed.

Lu Chen turned away.

His legs nearly failed.

He caught the edge of the bedside table.

Ruoxi immediately noticed.

“Lu Chen.”

“I'm fine.”

“You're pale.”

“I'm naturally handsome. Sometimes people confuse the two.”

She stared at him.

Even exhausted, he was irritating.

But before she could respond, one of the bodyguards entered quickly.

“Miss Qin.”

“What?”

“We found Assistant Zhou.”

“Bring him here.”

The bodyguard's expression was strange.

“We can't.”

Ruoxi's eyes hardened.

“Why?”

“He's gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Security footage shows him leaving through the underground parking garage forty minutes ago.”

Her face changed.

“Call him.”

“Phone is off.”

“His home?”

“Empty.”

Lu Chen looked toward the water bottle.

So there was a traitor.

Perhaps.

But something bothered him.

“This assistant,” Lu Chen said. “How long has he worked for your grandfather?”

Ruoxi answered without hesitation.

“Twelve years.”

“Twelve?”

“Yes.”

“Family?”

“Wife and son.”

“Where are they?”

The bodyguard looked down at his phone.

“We're checking.”

Several seconds passed.

A message arrived.

His expression changed.

“They're missing too.”

Ruoxi went silent.

Dr. Zhao glanced between them.

“You think he did this?”

“Maybe,” Lu Chen said.

Ruoxi looked at him.

“You don't sound convinced.”

“A man planning to murder someone after twelve years of service doesn't usually disappear with his entire family forty minutes before the victim dies.”

“Why not?”

“Because it makes him the obvious suspect.”

Ruoxi's eyes narrowed.

“Then you think someone forced him?”

“Or someone wants us to believe he did it.”

The hospital room suddenly felt much colder.

Not physically.

Ruoxi looked toward her sleeping grandfather.

“Who would do this?”

Lu Chen didn't answer.

He picked up the water bottle again.

This time he wrapped his hand in a cloth.

He examined the cap.

Sealed bottle.

Except—

there.

A tiny puncture.

Smaller than a needle hole.

Almost invisible.

Someone had injected something through the plastic seal.

Lu Chen brought it closer to the light.

A faint black residue clung inside.

Not medicinal.

Not chemical.

Cultivation residue.

He turned the bottle slowly.

Then froze.

There was a symbol scratched into the underside.

Three intersecting lines surrounding a crescent.

His face changed.

For five years, Lu Chen had avoided thinking about that symbol.

He had seen it on a wall soaked in blood.

Seen it carved into the chest of one of his senior brothers.

Seen it burned into the gate of the Valley of Nine Medicines on the night everything disappeared.

Qin Ruoxi noticed immediately.

“You recognize it.”

Lu Chen said nothing.

“Lu Chen.”

His fingers tightened around the bottle.

She stepped closer.

“What is that symbol?”

He could smell smoke again.

Not hospital disinfectant.

Smoke.

Burning timber.

Medicinal herbs turning to ash.

He could hear steel striking steel.

Someone screaming his name.

His master's blood on his hands.

Run.

Lu Chen's eyes became cold.

Very cold.

“Where did you get this water?”

“The hospital supply.”

“Who supplies it?”

“I don't know.”

“Find out.”

Ruoxi stared at him.

“You know something.”

“Yes.”

It was the first straight answer he'd given her.

Her expression changed.

“What?”

Lu Chen looked at the symbol.

Five years.

He had buried the Valley.

Buried the Ghost Physician.

Buried every name connected to that night.

He had believed the past was finished with him.

Apparently the past disagreed.

“This symbol belonged to the people who destroyed my home.”

Ruoxi said nothing.

Even Dr. Zhao stopped speaking.

Lu Chen placed the bottle carefully inside an evidence bag.

“Your grandfather wasn't attacked because of me.”

Ruoxi's eyes sharpened.

“But?”

“But whoever attacked him may belong to the same group I've been looking for since before Xiaoxiao was born.”

“You've been looking for them?”

“No.”

Lu Chen's jaw tightened.

“I've been hoping never to see them again.”

His phone vibrated.

Everyone looked toward him.

Lu Chen took it out.

Madam Zhou.

He answered immediately.

“What happened?”

Her voice came through in a whisper.

“Doctor Lu…”

Something was wrong.

He straightened.

“Where's Xiaoxiao?”

“She's here.”

He exhaled slightly.

Then Madam Zhou continued.

“But someone came to the clinic.”

Lu Chen's eyes changed.

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“What did they want?”

“They didn't knock.”

His grip tightened around the phone.

“What happened?”

“I heard glass downstairs.”

Lu Chen was already moving toward the door.

“Stay inside. Lock everything.”

“Doctor Lu—”

“Do not go downstairs.”

He ended the call.

Ruoxi followed him.

“What happened?”

“My clinic.”

“Someone broke in?”

“Yes.”

“I'll send people.”

“No.”

“Lu Chen—”

He turned.

For the first time since she had met him, there was nothing lazy, amused, or indifferent in his expression.

Only something sharp enough that she instinctively stopped.

“My daughter is across the street.”

Qin Ruoxi understood immediately.

“I'll drive.”

The black sedan tore through Jiangzhou.

Lu Chen sat in the passenger seat.

Ruoxi was behind the wheel.

Neither spoke.

Red lights became suggestions.

Traffic cameras flashed behind them.

Lu Chen did not care.

Inside his shattered dantian, the golden point pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

His exhaustion disappeared beneath something much older.

Killing intent.

He had spent five years suppressing it.

For Xiaoxiao.

For himself.

For the quiet life he had promised to build.

The car turned onto his street.

Police had not arrived yet.

Madam Zhou's apartment lights were on.

So was Uncle Chen's.

The clinic was dark.

The front window had been shattered.

Lu Chen opened the car door before it fully stopped.

“Wait!”

He ignored Ruoxi.

He crossed the street.

Broken glass cracked beneath his shoes.

The clinic door hung open.

Inside, chairs had been overturned.

Cabinets stood open.

Herbs covered the floor.

His consultation desk had been searched.

Nothing valuable was missing.

Lu Chen moved deeper inside.

Then stopped.

On the wall behind his desk, someone had drawn a symbol.

Three intersecting black lines.

A crescent.

The same mark from the bottle.

Beneath it were six words.

Written in dark red ink.

THE DEAD SHOULD REMAIN BURIED, GHOST PHYSICIAN.

Ruoxi entered behind him.

Her footsteps stopped.

She read the message.

Then looked at Lu Chen.

For a long time, he said nothing.

The tiny golden point inside him pulsed again.

A crack appeared in one of his long-dead meridians.

Not a wound.

An opening.

A single strand of Life Essence passed through it.

Lu Chen raised his eyes toward the symbol.

Five years ago, he had run.

Not because he was afraid to die.

Because his master had ordered him to live.

Then Xiaoxiao came.

And living became more important than revenge.

He had convinced himself that was enough.

That the dead deserved to remain behind him.

That vengeance would only take more from his daughter.

But now they had entered his clinic.

They had come within one street of Xiaoxiao.

That changed everything.

Ruoxi watched him carefully.

“What are you going to do?”

Lu Chen's expression became calm again.

That frightened her more than anger would have.

He reached for a cloth.

Then slowly wiped a smear of red ink from the edge of his desk.

“They made a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

Lu Chen looked at the black symbol.

“When you want a dead man to stay buried…”

His voice was almost gentle.

“…you don't knock on his daughter's door.”

Outside, thunder rolled across a cloudless Jiangzhou sky.

And deep beneath the city, in a room illuminated by black candles, the robed cultivator from the warehouse suddenly opened his eyes.

For the first time that night—

he felt afraid.