Chapter 8: The Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles Mend Ghostly Meridians; A Prelude Before Huaguang Temple (Part Three)
by Gideon…
The night rain in Jiangling fell in a ceaseless, melancholy drizzle, and the air turned chilly once more after a brief respite of warmth.
Ever since learning of Lan Xiangru’s habit of burning lamps to prolong the day, Wen Jin had left an oil lamp lit for him every night. Occasionally, he would even sleep by his side, their feet touching beneath the covers.
After a night’s rest, Lan Xiangru’s condition gradually improved. In the morning, Du Wen arrived at the West Courtyard to deliver medicine. He addressed Wen Jin, “The City Lord has instructed this humble servant to inquire if Young Master Lan is feeling well. The six Great Elders of Fengyue City have been summoned back by the City Lord, and all preparations are complete. If Young Master Lan feels no discomfort, the procedure to Connect Tendons and Mend Meridians can begin tonight.”
Wen Jin had originally assumed the Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles referred to nine different acupuncture techniques. It was only two days ago, when Feng Shulou informed him on the Flying Flower Terrace, that he learned the Nine Needles was actually the collective title for nine individuals: Feng Qiya, the Origin-Cultivating Needle; Ji Yuanfeng, the Origin-Stabilizing Needle; Feng Shulou, the Origin-Drawing Needle; Shao Fang, the Mingde Needle; Qi Yan, the Yangzheng Needle; Yu Wanli, the Shouzong Needle; Fan Wuniang, the Zhihua Needle; Cheng Xue, the Tongyou Needle; and Liang Sen, the Soul-Soothing Needle.
Wen Jin was well acquainted with the first three, but the remaining six elders were complete strangers to him, which piqued his curiosity.
Lan Xiangru said, “I am well.”
Du Wen replied, “It is good to hear. This humble servant will report back to the City Lord at once.”
Before he could leave, Wen Jin asked, “And where is your Young City Lord? Has he gone to Xingluo Mountain again?”
Du Wen smiled sheepishly. “Young Hero Wen is as sharp as ever. Truly, nothing escapes your notice.”
“He really does treasure that Little Devil,” Wen Jin muttered to himself. Then he asked, “Does Uncle Feng know about Meng Duwei?”
Du Wen shook his head. “The City Lord only knows that the Cloud Dream Immortal caused a commotion at Flying Flower Terrace. He doesn’t know that the Little Devil was rescued by the Young Lord, nor does he know that the Cloud Dream Immortal is actually the Second Young Master, Feng Shuze.”
As Feng Shulou’s trusted subordinate, Du Wen knew exactly what to say and what to keep to himself.
Seeing Wen Jin fall silent, Du Wen said, “If Young Hero Wen has no other urgent matters, I shall take my leave.”
Wen Jin waved a hand. “Go on, go on.”
The fine rain had fallen all night, leaving the air with a slight chill. It wasn’t until noon that the sky cleared and the weather gradually warmed.
Just after noon, two disciples from Moon-Plucking Pavilion arrived at the West Courtyard. They bowed in unison to Lan and Wen. “We have been sent by the City Lord to invite Young Master Lan to Moon-Plucking Pavilion.”
Wen Jin asked, “For what purpose?”
One of them replied, “The Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles will be used to connect Young Master Lan’s tendons and mend his meridians tonight. Before that, the miscellaneous ailments in his body must be sorted out one by one.”
Wen Jin understood. “Oh.”
With that, he pushed Lan Xiangru out of the small courtyard, only to be unexpectedly stopped by the two disciples. “The Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles is a secret technique passed down within Fengyue City. Outsiders are not permitted to observe. Young Hero Wen, please stay back.”
Wen Jin cursed “stingy” in his heart, but his face remained adorned with a gentle smile. “Then I will trouble you two big brothers to take good care of Brother Lan.”
One disciple took over the wheelchair, while the other cupped his fist in a salute to Wen Jin before escorting Lan Xiangru away.
The six Great Elders and Ji Yuanfeng gathered in the Moon-Plucking Pavilion, each sipping tea.
Before long, Zhihua Needle Fan Wuniang remarked, “Why hasn’t Lou’er come here today?”
Mingde Needle Shao Fang replied, “He must be held up by some urgent matter. The City Lord has been in secluded cultivation frequently in recent years, and almost all major and minor affairs in the city are handled by Lou’er. The child has been working himself to the bone, barely even having time to warm his seat. It is no matter if he arrives late.”
The others chimed in one after another, all praising Feng Shulou for being young and promising.
Feng Qiya’s eyes crinkled with a smile as he said modestly, “At present, we are merely clearing the miscellaneous ailments from Young Master Lan’s body. It does not yet require the full power of the Nine Needles, so there is no need for Lou’er to be present. Besides, he is no longer young, yet there are still many deficiencies in his conduct. He still needs more experience.”
Shouzhong Zhen Yu Wanli, a burly man with a voice to match, boomed, “Lou’er has long since reached the age for marriage. The City Lord should find him a suitable match.”
Fan Wuniang picked up the thread, “We watched Lou’er grow up, so let us all keep this matter in mind. If there is a suitable young lady, we must be sure to take notice.”
Before long, the creak of a wooden wheelchair drew closer. As one, the guests turned their gazes toward the courtyard, where a young man in white robes was being wheeled inside. His sideburns were trimmed as sharp as a blade, his eyebrows drawn with the precision of ink. Though paralyzed and disabled, he could not conceal his innate pride.
The brilliant sunlight outside cast his face in a pale, translucent glow. It was only when two disciples lifted the wheelchair up the stone steps and into the hall that the others noticed a blood-red mole at the corner of his eye.
The Blood-Tear Mole—a Lone Star’s Ominous Mark, sealing one’s fate to a life of solitude, severed from all kin.
The elders, who had just been chatting pleasantly, fell silent.
Lan Xiangru, unable to rise, could only incline his head in a slight nod to show his respect. “Junior Lan Xiangru greets City Lord Feng, City Lord Ji, and the Elders.”
“You are most polite,” Fan Wuniang said. The other five elders and Ji Yuanfeng remained silent. Feng Qiya, seated at the head of the table, stroked his beard with a smile. “Wen Jin is my nephew. Since Young Master Lan is his close friend, you may call me ‘Uncle.’ There is no need for such formality.”
Lan Xiangru lowered his gaze. “This junior dares not.”
Feng Qiya said, “I heard from my son, Shulou, that Young Master Lan’s meridians in his four limbs were injured by the Heaven-Seizing Cult. Is this true?”
Lan Xiangru replied, “Yes.”
“What deep-seated grudge does Young Master Lan hold against the Heaven-Seizing Cult?”
“Old scores are not worth mentioning.”
Feng Qiya smiled, then immediately shifted the subject. “Since Fengyue City has agreed to help, we will certainly be able to dispel your illness and heal your injuries. However, the power of the Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles is extraordinary. Young Master Lan, you must endure immense pain to fully restore the meridians in your limbs.”
Fengyue City hailed from a lineage of physicians and martial artists. Their founding ancestor was Cui Zhiti, a Grand Chancellor during the reign of Emperor Gaozong of the previous dynasty—a Confucian physician. He was a master of acupuncture and pharmacology, capable of reviving the dead and regenerating flesh from bone. After Chancellor Cui’s passing, his disciples devotedly studied his posthumous work, the Collected Works of Cui Zhiti. They integrated medical theory with martial arts, and after years of research, finally produced the Treatise on the Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles.
The Nine Needles were derived into various techniques, each with its own method. By fusing Needle Qi with True Qi, they could sequentially seal and unseal the one hundred and eight acupoints of the human body seven times. This process could reverse fate and fortune, connect tendons and mend meridians, and even bring the dead back to life.
Lan Xiangru had heard of this remarkable ability to connect tendons and mend meridians.
Seeing him fall silent, Feng Qiya asked, “Little Friend Lan, do you have some concerns?”
Lan Xiangru replied, “This junior has no concerns.”
Feng Qiya smiled. “Very well.” With that, he rose, walked slowly to Lan Xiangru, and extended two fingers to tap the severed tendons of his left hand.
The moment Feng Qiya focused his breath and released his True Qi, a searing current of energy surged through Lan Xiangru’s Extraordinary Meridians and into his dantian. Its force was swift and domineering, utterly different from Wen Jin’s Innate Pure Yang Qi. It felt as if ten thousand blades were piercing his body, enough to kill him once over.
A fine sheen of sweat suddenly broke out on Lan Xiangru’s forehead. He gritted his teeth, enduring the torment of ice and fire raging within his dantian, until Feng Qiya withdrew his fingers and ceased his power. Only then did the agony begin to ease.
Seeing his pale face, Feng Qiya couldn’t help but ask, “Little Friend Lan, what is wrong?”
Lan Xiangru replied, “It is nothing.”
Ji Yuanfeng and the others were puzzled, yet they saw only a thin layer of sweat on his face, with no other abnormalities.
Feng Qiya said, “Little Friend, your qi meridians have already been cleared. When my son returns, he can gather the power of the Nine Needles to Connect Tendons and Mend Meridians for you.”
Wen Jin had practiced his sword in the garden for a full hour. His cyan robes were already soaked through with sweat when he finally spotted Lan Xiangru’s wheelchair appearing on the stone path. Only then did he jog back toward the West Courtyard.
Two disciples carried Lan Xiangru into the main hall before promptly departing. Wen Jin asked curiously, “Brother Lan, what did Uncle Feng and the others do to you? What is so miraculous about the Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles?”
Lan Xiangru’s brow furrowed slightly. He answered with a non sequitur: “Touch me.”
Wen Jin started, completely bewildered. “Out of the blue like this? W-why should I touch you?”
Recalling the earlier events, Lan Xiangru’s expression grew increasingly grave. After a moment’s deliberation, he changed his approach, speaking softly, “The cold qi in my body seems to be spreading again. Wen Jin, could you help me like you did before?”
Wen Jin understood immediately. He nodded. “Of course.”
As he began to untie his robes, he suddenly remembered that this young master was a man of fastidious habits, meticulous even about his meals and baths. If he were to press himself against him while drenched in sweat, wouldn’t that be utterly repulsive? He hurriedly said, “Could you wait for me a moment?”
Lan Xiangru looked up. “What’s wrong?”
Wen Jin gave an embarrassed smile. “I’ve worked up a sweat practicing my sword. Let me take a bath first.”
Lan Xiangru replied, “Mm.”
Wen Jin quickly went to the side room to wash up. Afterward, he moved Lan Xiangru onto the bed, stripped off his own outer robes, and hugged him tightly from behind, beginning to transfer his Pure Yang Qi.
Having just bathed, the tips of Wen Jin’s hair were still damp. The breath he exhaled against the side of Lan Xiangru’s neck carried a moist, humid warmth.
A faint, elegant fragrance of magnolia could be smelled.
This was the first time Wen Jin had transferred Pure Yang Qi to Lan Xiangru while he was conscious. Yet the body in his arms was inexplicably stiff. He couldn’t tell if it was because Lan Xiangru loathed such intimate physical contact, or if the Cold Poison had flared up again, causing discomfort.
Another quarter-hour passed. Wen Jin noticed Lan Xiangru’s condition growing more abnormal. Filled with worry, he touched Lan Xiangru’s chest. “Brother Lan, your heart is beating so fast. Should I ask City Lord Feng to come and take a look?”
Lan Xiangru’s voice was low and heavy. “No need.”
His heartbeat struck Wen Jin’s palm like a drum, making Wen Jin uneasy. “It seems to be beating faster and faster.”
Lan Xiangru ground his back molars. “Move your leg. Stop wrapping it around my waist.”
Wen Jin didn’t understand why, but he complied. “Oh.”
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