Chapter 100: Immediate Results

The outskirts of the capital, a residence simple in appearance yet filled with hidden mysteries. The air here was incomparably pure, making it an ideal place for nurturing one's health. Moreover, it occupied a superb position according to the principles of feng shui. Within the estate, buildings were arranged with careful elegance, exuding an ancient charm, and modern equipment was rarely seen—at least, that was the case if not for the group of soldiers standing in the corridor, each as tense as if facing an enemy. No one dared to underestimate the situation: Qin Yang’s identity was unusual, and he was a murderer. Most importantly, Jiang Nanyan had sent him to the Black Prison, which was reason enough for everyone to regard Qin Yang with utmost vigilance.

Standing at the entrance, Qin Yang was subjected to a thorough inspection from head to toe, ensuring he carried no threatening weapons. When they spotted the jade pendant hanging around his neck, one of the guards said, “Please take it out so I can examine it.”

“I’m here to treat a patient, not to surrender,” Qin Yang replied with a cold smile. “Get out of my way. It’s already generous of me to let you search me, and now you want more?”

“What did you just say?”

The man’s face turned furious, and Liu Yan slapped her forehead in exasperation. Old Han hurried out from the inner courtyard, stopping the soldier and speaking bitterly, “Qin Yang, they’re protecting Elder Jiang’s safety. It’s an order.”

“I detest this nonsense,” Qin Yang said, grinning.

Old Han was momentarily speechless.

“Lead the way.”

Old Han led Qin Yang into the courtyard. As they passed through, they encountered several more checkpoints, but Qin Yang stubbornly refused further inspections, behaving like a petulant child. This left Liu Yan and Old Han with splitting headaches, and they could only do their best to negotiate. Eventually, Qin Yang was admitted to the inner courtyard. In the hall, seven or eight people awaited, though Jiang Nanyan was nowhere to be seen.

“Uncle Han, is this young man the miracle doctor you invited?” a middle-aged man asked, somewhat puzzled.

“Who is this fellow? Tell him to leave. Just looking at him spoils my mood,” Qin Yang said carelessly.

“Kid, what did you say?” The man shouted angrily.

“Don’t raise your voice,” Old Han immediately admonished in a low tone. The man snorted but held his tongue.

Qin Yang spat on the floor and pointed at the man’s nose. “Old Han, are you telling him to leave or not? If you don’t, I’ll go instead, okay?”

With that, Qin Yang strode toward the door, only to be blocked by two armed soldiers. The middle-aged man sneered, “Come and go as you please? Who do you think you are?”

“Forget it, I’m not doing this,” Qin Yang said, dropping down to sit on the threshold, sprawling carelessly. “I can’t treat the illness. I request to return to the Black Prison. I’m done here.”

“Qin Yang, you—” Old Han was beside himself with anxiety.

This young man was stubborn as a mule: if he said he’d leave, he would, and nothing would make him stay unless his demand was met. Yet, based on his previous methods of treating people, he was indeed the most likely to cure Elder General Jiang. Old Han gritted his teeth and waved his hand. “Take him away.”

The two soldiers immediately moved to escort Qin Yang.

“I meant him,” Old Han said urgently, pointing to the middle-aged man who had just argued with Qin Yang. If he continued to provoke Qin Yang, this little troublemaker might make some unreasonable demands, and at such a critical moment, Old Han didn’t want more worries.

The middle-aged man was startled, and before he could protest, he saw the murderous glare in Old Han’s eyes. He immediately shut his mouth and walked out, shooting Qin Yang a resentful glance as he left. Qin Yang grinned and called after him, “Next time, do it again.”

“Qin Yang, you’ve made your point. Can you come over now?” Old Han asked, suppressing his anger.

Qin Yang finally dusted off his pants and followed Old Han into the inner room. As soon as he entered, Qin Yang was struck by a strong scent of traditional medicine, which overwhelmed the usual aroma of sandalwood. On the rosewood bed lay an elderly man, emaciated and pale, quietly resting. His hair was white at the temples, his vitality seemed to be ebbing away, and the wrinkles on his forehead hinted at supreme authority and iron will—even as their owner lay unconscious.

“It’s serious,” Yu Wen Rou Nu said softly. “Go forward and take his pulse. I want to hear the diagnosis.”

Qin Yang had spent more than ten days in the Black Prison, and he had learned enough of the superficial aspects of traditional medicine to play his part. Though his skills were mostly for show, the true doctor was Yu Wen Rou Nu. As long as Qin Yang performed convincingly, it was enough. He placed his fingers on the old man’s wrist, his gaze intense, as if listening to the pulse, but in reality, he was secretly communicating with the Butler: “Butler, if I save this old man, will it really improve my standing in Hell?”

“Absolutely,” the Butler replied confidently. “How many soldiers have died across China? Countless. Among them, how many hoped this old general would escape the clutches of illness? That number is unimaginable. If you save him, you’ll fulfill the wishes of many. Though most aren’t in Hell, the effect will be diminished, but the sheer numbers can’t be ignored.”

“Does that mean I’ll hit the jackpot this time?” Qin Yang asked with a sly smile.

“A real tycoon.”

“Could you two stop talking? I need absolute silence right now,” Yu Wen Rou Nu said, knowing the general’s injuries were grave.

The two troublemakers shut their mouths tightly, not daring to utter another word.

After two or three minutes, Yu Wen Rou Nu said, “Open the Yin-Yang Eye. I want to see his internal condition.”

Qin Yang complied, activating the Yin-Yang Eye. He lifted the old man’s eyelids, inspected his mouth, pressed on his chest and abdomen, and gently massaged his neck. After about half an hour, Qin Yang stepped back, picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from his hands, and listened as Yu Wen Rou Nu explained, “Twenty-four injuries, twenty-one hidden wounds, years of accumulated exhaustion have drained his body’s elemental energy, causing imbalance between Yin and Yang, accompanied by multiple illnesses. The injuries have penetrated to the marrow. A few days ago, someone used potent medicine to prolong his life, excessively depleting his vitality. But he can still be saved, though it will be troublesome and require several years.”

“The longer, the better,” Qin Yang thought, knowing how valuable a bargaining chip the old man’s life would be. He was elated. “Think about the prescription first. I’ll show off a bit in front of this old man.”

With that, Qin Yang coughed, his expression grave and tone slightly critical. “Did you use a medicinal bath for him a few days ago?”

“That’s correct,” Old Han replied, startled. The young man’s ability to discern this proved his authenticity.

“You fool,” Qin Yang scolded, this time with good reason. “Do you realize his body is at the point where the oil is spent and the lamp is nearly extinguished? He’s weaker than a gravely ill infant. Potent medicine only worsens his injuries.”

“I know, but I had no other choice. Without using medicine to prolong his life, he wouldn’t have lasted until now,” Old Han said with a bitter smile.

“Twenty-four injuries, twenty-one hidden illnesses, elemental energy depleted, Yin-Yang imbalance—the Jiang family really knows how to keep people alive,” Qin Yang sneered.

“You saw all that?” Old Han asked anxiously. “Qin Yang, can he still be saved?”

“I need ten sets of gold needles—all pure gold. Ear needles, filiform needles, lifting needles, none should be missing. And bring paper and pen.”

Old Han quickly provided everything Qin Yang requested. Qin Yang dictated more than thirty medicinal ingredients, then undressed Elder General Jiang. Years of illness had left his body nearly skeletal, the bones visible beneath the skin. Qin Yang began inserting gold needles without hesitation, his movements practiced thanks to treating over a hundred inmates recently.

After more than an hour, Elder General Jiang’s body was covered with gold needles—on his head, beside his ears, even over ten needles in one hand.

When he finished, Qin Yang moved to the prepared medicinal ingredients, selecting them one by one. “Here’s the prescription. I’ll demonstrate the application now. Do it once per day without fail.”

He crushed the ingredients, formed them into small bundles, and applied them to the old general’s feet, then used fire to heat them. “The feet are the beginning of the three Yin meridians and the end of the three Yang, reflecting the five organs and six viscera, connecting the six channels. His elemental energy is nearly depleted, Yin and Yang are unbalanced. Treating from the feet is the best way to restore the body’s regulation functions without further damaging his already frail health. It’s slow, but it’s the optimal method.”

Old Han nodded, carefully recording every detail.

Once the medicine had taken effect, Qin Yang brought in a bucket of pre-steamed hot water and carefully placed Elder General Jiang’s feet inside. The water contained over a dozen medicinal ingredients, greatly aiding recovery. Combined with the gold needles, the effect was evident: the old general's previously pale face was beginning to show a faint flush.

“Apply the muscle-repairing ointment to his wounds after seven days, but never interrupt the foot treatment,” Qin Yang said, clapping his hands.

“When will he wake up?” Old Han asked, still anxious.

Qin Yang checked the time. “Soon. Just wait a little longer.”

Once Yu Wen Rou Nu’s instructions were relayed, Qin Yang removed the old general’s feet from the water and collected all the gold needles, noting a few key positions for Old Han to administer daily.

“All right, wait an hour,” Qin Yang said, clapping his hands. “Let’s leave the room.”

Old Han nodded and followed Qin Yang out. As soon as they exited, several people approached with questions, but Qin Yang quietly sat to one side, ignoring everyone, as if resting with his eyes closed.

Old Han spoke a few words to the others before returning to the room.

After an uncertain amount of time, he suddenly rushed out, excitedly announcing, “He’s awake.”