Chapter 96 These Fools

“To be honest, Qin Yang, I’ve seen people with no conscience, but I’ve never seen anyone quite as heartless as you.” Xiao Ran glanced at the densely written prescription Qin Yang handed her and carefully tucked it away. She was also responsible for the Black Prison’s procurement; anything the prisoners wanted had to go through her hands. Aside from some contraband, most things could be purchased—cigarettes, for example—and Xiao Ran always did her best, sometimes bringing back dozens of items in a single day. The prisoners were deeply grateful to her, and she held an almost legendary status among them. Once, a new guard bullied her, making the young woman cry, which led to one of the rare riots in the Black Prison. That guard never returned, a testament to Xiao Ran’s standing among the inmates.

Having secured the prescription, she said, “I’ve worked here for years. The last person who came took three or four days of silence before they could fit in, but you’re a real oddity. Just two hours and you’ve completely blended into the environment.”

“Well, since I’m already here, being quiet won’t help,” Qin Yang replied with a chuckle. “And honestly, the social atmosphere here isn’t bad. It’s much better than the scheming outside, even if I can’t leave for now.”

“For now?” Xiao Ran shook her head. “Do you actually plan on getting out someday?”

“Of course.” Qin Yang smiled mysteriously. “Anyway, please try to bring back as much of these medicines as you can. There are quite a few types, but I’m counting on you. Also, could you buy a set of silver needles and some alcohol? I need them for sterilization. That’s all for now. By the way, here’s my bank card. The guards didn’t confiscate it—strange, isn’t it? The password is the last six digits; there should be enough money for everything.”

“You’re planning to pay yourself?” Xiao Ran laughed. “Put your card away. Purchases are all reimbursed.”

“Hm? I can’t leave, but you can use my card to buy whatever you want. Consider it a welcome gift from me. What do you think?” Qin Yang said with a grin.

“Aren’t you afraid of going bankrupt?” Xiao Ran teased.

“Not for now. I suggest you buy some cosmetics. Women who work in the kitchen long-term often have their skin damaged by grease and smoke. Here’s something ahead of time: I can prepare a beauty tonic from the herbs I’ll receive. You’ll see results in two days, and if you take it long-term, you’ll keep the skin and appearance of a twenty-year-old for forty years. As for cosmetics, try some active cell serums—they’ll keep your skin soft and hydrated. You deserve it.”

Their light-hearted banter drew bemused looks from the burly men nearby. Damn it, was this guy here to flirt or to serve his sentence?

“What if it doesn’t work?” Xiao Ran asked, smiling. “I rarely use cosmetics or herbal skincare.”

“How about I promise myself to you if it fails?” Qin Yang chuckled. “Don’t doubt my medical skills; I guarantee it’s effective, heart and soul.”

After joking for a while, Xiao Ran left with the prescription. Soon, a group gathered around. Zhao Wu, the burly man with the injured leg, gave a thumbs-up. “Qin Yang, you really are heartless, joking around as a newcomer.”

“Of course. Otherwise, am I supposed to joke with you lot?” Qin Yang retorted. “Go get ready—clean up your leg. When she returns, I’ll needle it.”

Zhao Wu didn’t hesitate. His leg’s sensation was fading, and he knew it was likely beyond saving. Might as well try anything.

When Xiao Ran returned after seven o’clock, she brought bundles of items to Qin Yang’s room and handed him a set of silver needles. “These are everything you wanted. I visited several pharmacies to get it all—it wasn’t easy. Here’s your bank card, and thanks for the cosmetics.”

“You’re welcome,” Qin Yang replied with a smile.

By then, Zhao Wu had received the notice and arrived, accompanied by several dozen others, including some guards—curious to see the treatment. Many among them bore hidden injuries, untreatable by conventional means. If Qin Yang could heal them, it would be a great boon.

“Xiao Ran, step outside, please. What comes next isn’t for girls to see,” Qin Yang said.

Xiao Ran glanced around at everyone, then nodded helplessly. She was curious about Qin Yang’s methods, but complied.

Once she left, Qin Yang had Zhao Wu remove his pants, leaving only shorts. He heated the silver needles over the flame. “This might hurt. Brace yourself.”

“No way. This leg hasn’t felt anything for over a year. What pain?” Zhao Wu laughed.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Qin Yang replied coldly.

Following the guidance of Yu Wen Rou Nu, Qin Yang slowly inserted the needles into the acupoints on Zhao Wu’s thigh. The onlookers watched closely. Some martial artists recognized a few acupoints, but most did not understand.

“This needling isn’t just at the acupoints—it also targets flesh and blood vessels. Your right leg’s injury has developed into a viral pattern. To eradicate it, conventional methods won’t suffice.” As Qin Yang spoke, he had already inserted over thirty slender silver needles of varying lengths and depths into the wound.

Half an hour later, Zhao Wu’s calf was covered with a dense forest of silver needles, making everyone shudder.

After finishing, Qin Yang selected over a dozen herbs from the bag and threw them into a clay pot. “Let me know when you start to feel itching.”

Zhao Wu nodded.

Qin Yang lit the fire and began boiling the medicine. After about an hour, Zhao Wu exclaimed excitedly, “It’s itchy! It really is itchy!”

The crowd nodded, their confidence in Qin Yang’s medical skills growing.

Unhurried, Qin Yang turned to Dongfang Hao. “Watch the medicine for me. When it turns into black paste, let me know.”

“Alright.”

Qin Yang then took a steaming towel and carefully covered Zhao Wu’s leg wound, poured alcohol over it, and grinned wickedly. “Didn’t you say it wouldn’t hurt? If you cry out, you’re a coward.”

“If I make a sound, I’m a coward,” Zhao Wu declared confidently.

Qin Yang lit a cigarette, touched it to the towel, and the alcohol flared with blue flames. Qin Yang lounged in a chair, legs crossed, reading a book, while someone else held more alcohol, ready to pour if the fire waned. No one knew how long it lasted, but soon Zhao Wu’s forehead was drenched in sweat, his teeth clenched, eyes wide, suffering immense pain, his clothes soaked through.

“Sister Yu Wen, will this really work?” Qin Yang asked inwardly.

Yu Wen Rou Nu replied, “Moxibustion stimulates the tiny blood vessels in his leg, restoring circulation and increasing blood oxygen. Qin Yang, if possible, could you acquire some modern medical texts? I’d like to study them.”

“No problem,” Qin Yang agreed with a smile.

After twenty minutes, Zhao Wu was soaked from head to toe. Wu Ya stood by with bottled water, occasionally helping him drink to stay hydrated. Seeing Zhao Wu’s agony, he felt uneasy; Zhao Wu was no ordinary man, having survived hardships unimaginable to most. His right leg had once kicked dozens of enemies to death in battle. His pain tolerance was fearsome, yet Qin Yang had pushed him to such extremes.

“Qin Yang, I admit I’m a coward. When will it get better?” Zhao Wu groaned.

“You should’ve said so sooner. If you’d admitted the pain earlier, I’d have stopped,” Qin Yang complained.

Everyone shivered—was this guy doing it on purpose?

After extinguishing the flames, Zhao Wu’s right leg was bright red and steaming. Qin Yang swiftly removed the heated needles, took the black paste from the pot, and spread it evenly on Zhao Wu’s calf. Once done, he wrapped it layer by layer with gauze. “All right, does it feel cool and itchy? Like new flesh growing?”

“Yes, it’s cool and itching, like sprouts,” Zhao Wu said excitedly. “It works—it really works!”

“Don’t celebrate yet; this is just the beginning. Change the medicine in three days, same method. You know how much it hurts. Don’t get your leg wet—wrap the gauze in plastic when you shower. Don’t scratch because of the itch, and don’t use your right leg in fights. Exercise is fine, but don’t overdo it. Keep alcohol intake under two taels daily. If you follow this, I guarantee your right leg will be formidable in three months.”

“Alright, I’ll listen to you. Everything you say, Doctor Qin!” Zhao Wu said excitedly.

“Doctor Qin, my arm was injured before—can you take a look?”

“My back was hit by shrapnel; it still aches sometimes. Could you check it out?”

“Doctor Qin, I’ve got some issues myself.”

Requests poured in. Hearing Zhao Wu’s testimony, everyone realized Qin Yang was a true doctor and eagerly sought his help.

Qin Yang waved his hand, signaling everyone to quiet down. “I’m happy to treat you, but remember: my treatments can be painful. If anyone cries out, you’re a coward, and I’ll make sure you suffer even more. If you can handle it, I’ll help you.”

“No problem.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve all had interrogation training.”

Promises filled the air. Qin Yang smiled, though some noticed a hint of menace in his smile and shivered involuntarily.

“In a place where freedom is restricted, if you don’t find a little amusement, it’s just too dull. These fools, I’ll make sure none of them ever laugh in front of me again.”