Chapter 7: The Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles Mend the Ghostly Veins, A Performance Before the Monks of Huaguang Temple (Part 2)
by GideonWhen Wen Jin returned to the courtyard, Du Wen was sitting under the eaves, grinding medicine. Seeing Wen Jin’s pallid complexion, Du Wen’s heart gave a sudden thud. “Young Hero Wen, are you… are you all right?”
Wen Jin nodded numbly.
“Did I make the porridge and side dishes poorly this morning? Did you get an upset stomach?” Du Wen set down the pestle and walked over, his face etched with worry.
Wen Jin waved a hand, forcing a strained smile. “I’m fine. Go back to your work, don’t mind me.” With that, he entered the room. Seeing Lan Xiangru resting in his wheelchair with his eyes closed, he instinctively lightened his steps.
“You’re back?” Lan Xiangru slowly opened his eyes.
Wen Jin’s stride returned to normal. “Yes.”
Lan Xiangru remarked, “Your complexion is so poor. Could it be that the feng shui of the latrines on Xingluo Mountain is unfavorable?”
Wen Jin was amused. “I thought you were a taciturn gourd, never imagining you’d make a joke at someone else’s expense.” Pushing the thought of Meng Duwei aside, he walked over to Lan Xiangru’s side. “Brother Lan, how do you feel after soaking in the Spirit Spring for two days?”
Lan Xiangru replied coolly, “I feel nothing.”
Wen Jin frowned. “That shouldn’t be…”
Feng Shulou had once said that the chill within Lan Xiangru’s body was a result of his martial training. As a martial artist, how could he not sense the changes in his qi meridians?
Just as Wen Jin was pondering this, Lan Xiangru suddenly asked, “Why did you save me?”
Usually, Wen Jin would pepper him with questions, and only after asking three or five of them would he receive a half-sentence in response. Seeing him take the initiative to speak now, Wen Jin couldn’t help but be surprised. After a few breaths, he replied, “Saving a life requires no reason.”
Lan Xiangru asked again, “Is this your first time traveling the jianghu?”
Wen Jin straightened his neck and declared with righteous indignation, “Nonsense! I’m clearly an old hand in the jianghu!”
Lan Xiangru smiled faintly.
They had known each other for over half a month, and this was the first time Wen Jin had seen him smile. The expression softened his features, a stark contrast to the cold gloominess he had shown upon first waking.
Wen Jin understood the meaning behind that smile. He snorted coldly, “So what if I’ve just entered the jianghu? My master taught me that martial skill is the capital for traveling the jianghu. As long as one’s martial arts are high enough, they will never suffer a loss.”
Lan Xiangru commented, “A great teacher produces a great disciple.”
Wen Jin felt there was a hidden jab in his words, yet he couldn’t find the words to refute him. He could only silently pour himself half a cup of fragrant tea and gulp it down.
After seven days of treatment with the Spirit Spring water from Flying Flower Terrace, Lan Xiangru’s qi meridians had been fully cleared. Soon, he would be able to use the “Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles” to reconnect his meridians and regain his freedom of movement.
Life on Xingluo Mountain was dreadfully dull. Every morning, Wen Jin would seek out a secluded spot to practice his cultivation and meditate, strengthening his foundation and nourishing his primordial qi.
Though his swordplay was superb, his internal cultivation was even more exceptional, integrating the essence of the Buddhist, Taoist, and Confucian traditions. Recently, while helping Lan Xiangru soak in the Spirit Spring, Wen Jin had also been spending a full hour each day in the pool. Unbeknownst to him, the flow of internal breath in his dantian had become even smoother than before, greatly benefiting his cultivation power.
After his morning practice, Wen Jin, bored out of his mind, dragged Du Wen and two other available mountain-guarding disciples to play dominoes. Whether Du Wen and the others were simply dull-witted or were merely deferring to his status as a guest, he won every single round with ease. There was no excitement in it at all.
As for Lan Xiangru, he was even less of an option. He had always been a man of few words, and now, paralyzed in a wheelchair, he couldn’t move a muscle—only his lips could still part. Playing games with him was out of the question.
As the days dragged on, Wen Jin grew so restless that his skin felt as if it were being pricked by needles. In his frustration, he remembered the man in the small cottage beneath the waterfall. Figuring Meng Duwei’s injuries should have healed by now, he decided to go find him and have a fight to stretch his bones.
Wen Jin had just carried his sword into the courtyard when Feng Shulou strode toward him.
“Xiao Jin,” Feng Shulou said, “my father has emerged from seclusion. He has ordered us to descend the mountain immediately to treat Young Master Lan’s injuries.”
This should have been good news, yet a strange, inexplicable feeling gnawed at Wen Jin’s heart. After a moment’s thought, he decided to be blunt. “City Lord Ji was clearly unwilling to save Brother Lan before. Why did he suddenly change his mind? Big Brother Feng, please tell me the full story.”
Feng Shulou fell silent for a moment, then spoke candidly. “Uncle Ji said the Yin Qi within Young Master Lan’s body might be related to the Azure Nether Heart Scripture, a martial arts manual long lost to the world. It is rumored that this scripture has fallen into the hands of the Demonic Cult. Those who master this technique are almost certainly members of the Heaven-Seizing Cult. That is why Uncle Ji harbored murderous intent toward Young Master Lan.”
Wen Jin cared little for the Azure Nether Heart Scripture. He simply picked up where Feng Shulou left off. “So—the reason you accompanied us to Flying Flower Terrace wasn’t to save Brother Lan, but to kill him?”
“I never intended to harm him,” Feng Shulou replied.
Wen Jin sneered. “Then why did you come? To admire the snow?”
Feng Shulou remained silent.
Wen Jin did not wish to speak to his friend in such a mocking tone. After a moment to compose himself, he asked, “Do you also believe Brother Lan is a member of the Demonic Cult?”
Feng Shulou’s reply was non-sequitur. “A-Ze said he has never seen Young Master Lan within the Cult.”
Wen Jin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “A single word from the Little Devil is enough to dispel all your doubts?”
“He is my brother,” Feng Shulou said, his voice low.
Wen Jin gave a perfunctory nod. “Alright, alright. Your brother’s word is gospel.”
Feng Shulou smiled helplessly. “Xiao Jin, you should trust my father’s character. Since he is willing to save Young Master Lan, it means the young master is a friend, not an enemy, and worth saving.”
This was true. Feng Qiya, the City Lord of Fengyue City, was a man of noble character and unyielding integrity, held in high esteem throughout the martial world. With him tending to the matter, Lan Xiangru’s meridians would surely be restored to their original state.
At noon, Wen Jin and his companions left Flying Flower Terrace. They wound their way down the mountain path, not returning to Fengyue City until dusk.
The journey down the mountain had been too jarring, aggravating Lan Xiangru’s injuries. He could not withstand the power of the Heavenly Physician’s Nine Needles for the time being. Feng Qiya could only have him rest for two days, delaying treatment until his condition improved.
After ensuring Lan Xiangru was settled and comfortable, Wen Jin immediately went to Feng Qiya’s residence, the Moon-Plucking Pavilion, to pay him a visit.
Feng Qiya was currently engaged in a game of Go with Ji Yuanfeng. Wen Jin sensed his timing was poor, yet he could not simply leave, so he waited quietly in the hall.
Feng Qiya withdrew a black stone from the Go box, holding it between two fingers. His brow furrowed in deep concentration, as if he were trapped in a desperate predicament.
Instinctively, Wen Jin craned his neck to observe the board. Suddenly, Feng Qiya’s knuckles flexed slightly, and the black stone shot from his hand like a sharp blade, aimed straight for Wen Jin’s face.
As the killing intent struck, Wen Jin instinctively leaned back, dodging the stone’s attack. By the time he rose, several more stones were already flying toward him, propelled by a powerful surge of Internal Breath.
The opponent’s assault was too swift. Even with Wen Jin’s quick reflexes, he could not dodge again. In desperation, he drew the longsword from his back to block his chest. Three crisp clangs rang out as the stones struck the blade, only to be deflected back by his Internal Energy.
The sequence of events unfolded with such dizzying speed that it was nearly impossible to follow. Yet Feng Qiya struck the Go board with his palm, his entire body ascending into the air as light as a goose feather. The returning stones grazed the hem of his robes, slicing through the carved screen before finally embedding themselves into the stone pillar in the corner of the room.
Feng Qiya landed swiftly, his robes as pristine as before, the chess game undisturbed.
Having tested the youth, the City Lord of Fengyue City laughed heartily. “Old Man Linghu’s disciple is truly remarkable—truly remarkable indeed!”
On the other side of the board, Ji Yuanfeng slowly placed a stone. “You lost.”
Feng Qiya smiled. “Enough, enough. I’ll concede this game to you.”
The outcome of the match decided, Wen Jin finally sheathed his sword. He stepped forward twice and cupped his hands in a respectful salute. “This junior, Wen Jin, greets City Lord Feng and City Lord Ji.”
Feng Qiya stroked his beard. “As before, you may just call me Uncle Feng.”
Wen Jin cupped his hands again. “Uncle Feng.”
Feng Qiya’s smile lingered as he asked, “How is your master?”
“My master is well, and all is right with him,” Wen Jin replied.
Feng Qiya remarked, “Old Man Linghu cherishes you like a treasure, never allowing you to step foot in the mortal world. How has he suddenly changed his mind, letting you venture into the martial world alone?”
Wen Jin dared not let Feng Qiya know that he had secretly descended the mountain behind his master’s back to go undercover in the Qianxi Wumeng Tribe. Thus, he replied vaguely, “My master has his reasons for his actions. This junior dares not speculate lightly.”
Feng Qiya knew this boy had been incredibly mischievous since childhood. Seeing him so disciplined and honest now, he figured the boy must hold him in awe and decided not to make things difficult for him any further. “It’s getting late, Xiao Jin. You may go back and rest.”
Wen Jin cupped his hands in a salute. “Yes.”
After leaving the pavilion, he heard a murmur of conversation behind him. “Old Ji, you have no idea how naughty this child was back then. That day, Old Man Linghu brewed a dose of healing medicine for me, and this boy actually threw a handful of senna leaves into it…”
Wen Jin didn’t listen any further, his feet practically flying as he hurried back to the West Courtyard.
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