I am an Apothecary

This time, Yang Fan could distinctly feel the surge in his cultivation, a sensation so vivid and powerful. The fine threads of cool, verdant energy coursing through his body were growing ever stronger.

Faintly, he realized that his cultivation had already broken through the Qi-Sensing stage, edging closer to the Qi Refinement stage.

Once he entered Qi Refinement, he would officially be a cultivator—a return to the path of immortality. Though the Qi Refinement stage was merely the first of the nine realms in cultivation, it was a barrier that had confounded countless individuals, leaving many without the talent for cultivation to merely gaze longingly from the shore.

"Brother Fan… this is nothing short of miraculous! My wounds have healed so quickly, not even a trace remains!" 

Iron Bull was elated. The cool streams of energy flowing over his wounds felt incomparably soothing, as though the delicate hands of a gentle woman were caressing him softly. 

The feeling was indescribably pleasant, intoxicating even, making one crave more. 

For several long breaths, Yang Fan continued to channel his healing energy, fully mending Iron Bull's wounds. 

"Ah, that was so comfortable! Brother Fan, can you keep going a little longer?"

Iron Bull was almost addicted to the sensation, the flowing cool energy over his body making him feel as if he were floating in bliss, helpless to resist its allure.

Yang Fan, however, closed his eyes, sensing that the mysterious energy within him had increased four or fivefold compared to the previous night. 

To progress from Qi-Sensing to Qi Refinement required a gradual accumulation of spiritual energy. Normally, it would take three to five years for the average person. For those with good aptitude, it might only take a year or two. 

Yet now, after just a single healing session, Yang Fan could feel he was already on the cusp of Qi Refinement, only a single step away from breaking through this bottleneck.

"How strange… why did I feel a much stronger surge in my cultivation after healing Iron Bull, compared to when I treated Mother and the little grey dog yesterday?"

Yang Fan couldn't help but wonder.

After comparing Iron Bull with his mother and the dog, he suddenly found a clue. 

If he were to measure their strength, even ten of his mother and the dog combined wouldn't match Iron Bull.

Think about it: Iron Bull was born with immense strength and, after being taught by a mysterious master, had mastered martial arts. Wielding two iron hammers that each weighed over a hundred pounds, he was nothing short of fierce. Even Yang Fan wasn't confident he could defeat him without relying on spells or healing powers.

"It seems… the effect of my cultivation growth varies depending on who I heal. But I'll need to verify this further…" 

A rough outline of an extraordinary yet simple path to leveling up began to take shape in Yang Fan's mind.

"Brother Fan, didn't you lose your magical powers? Just now, it felt like you were using some kind of immortal technique."

Iron Bull asked in confusion. He had only dared challenge Yang Fan to a duel because he knew the latter had lost his powers. Otherwise, even with all the courage in the world, he wouldn't have dared to challenge an immortal master.

Yang Fan sighed softly. "It's true that I lost my magic, but I'm not a broken man. I've turned to the study of medicine, which is considered a side path in the world of immortal cultivation. If you insist on calling me an immortal master, then I'd only be half of one—an apothecary, at most."

"An apothecary?" Iron Bull's mysterious master exclaimed in surprise.

Yang Fan nodded, somewhat helpless. "Yes. Having lost the chance to ascend the highest path of immortality, I've chosen to focus my efforts on this so-called side path. In the world of cultivation, this profession is highly sought after, but it is still looked down upon as 'unorthodox,' far removed from the true immortal way and despised by the orthodox cultivators."

Using this identity as a front, Yang Fan could not only openly increase his cultivation but also avoid the risks of becoming a target. After all, no one would perceive a lowly apothecary as a threat.

No doubt, people like Yang Guang and Mister Xu wouldn't see him as anything significant.

"An apothecary…" 

The old man, trembling slightly, hobbled over to Yang Fan, a look of hope and supplication shining in his eyes, as if he were gazing upon salvation itself.

"Master… what are you doing?" 

Iron Bull hurried to help his master to his feet.

Yang Fan's expression remained calm, having already guessed the old man's intention.

"I humbly beseech the Apothecary to examine this old man's affliction. Is there any hope of healing?"

The old man stood before Yang Fan, his eyes filled with hope, excitement, and desperation.

"May I ask your honorable name, Elder?" Yang Fan asked kindly, with a serene expression.

This elder was a martial artist with innate strength—far more powerful than Iron Bull.

"My name is Nangong Yu," the old man answered without reservation, treating Yang Fan with utmost respect, even though the young man before him could have been his grandson.

"Nangong Yu? Master, you're the famed 'Feathered Sword of Yuyang,' Nangong Yu?" 

Iron Bull was shocked, looking at his master with a newfound reverence.

"The Feathered Sword?" Yang Fan's expression remained unchanged. He had never heard of the title before. 

As a cultivator from the world of immortals, he viewed the mortal and martial worlds as distant concerns. Why would he ever care for their skirmishes?

"I'm merely a mortal. In the Apothecary's eyes, I'm not worth mentioning," Nangong Yu laughed humbly. Seeing that Yang Fan was unfamiliar with his reputation only deepened his reverence for the young man, confirming his suspicions about Yang Fan's true abilities.

"Let me take a look at your condition…" 

Yang Fan said calmly, motioning for Nangong Yu to extend his hand. He gently placed his finger on the old man's pulse and then closed his eyes, focusing his attention.

The mysterious energy, filled with boundless vitality, flowed into Nangong Yu's body. 

Though Nangong Yu felt nothing, unable to detect this force, it was there, working beneath the surface.

In truth, Yang Fan was deliberately concealing his energy, a technique well-honed in the *Xian Hong Jue*—a method of hiding one's power.

After a moment, Yang Fan opened his eyes, having thoroughly examined the elder's injuries.

"Your tendons have been completely severed, and your left leg is entirely fractured. However, the life force within your body remains, allowing you to hold on until now," Yang Fan said with an air of detachment.

"Brother Fan, please, I beg you—heal my master's injuries," Iron Bull pleaded, clutching Yang Fan's sleeve with tear-filled eyes.

"If the Apothecary can heal me, I shall be forever in your debt," Nangong Yu's voice trembled, and his hands clutched Yang Fan's tightly, his body quivering slightly.

"Well…" Yang Fan began to speak, but before he could finish, both Nangong Yu and Iron Bull dropped to their knees before him.

With a resounding thud, they knelt on the ground, Iron Bull's eyes brimming with tears. "My master is a good man…" 

"Stand up, both of you. I never said I wouldn't help," Yang Fan sighed, slightly exasperated. "I was just about to say that I've never treated such severe injuries as severed tendons or fractured bones before. I lack the experience."

Hearing this, the two men stood up, disappointment flickering across Iron Bull's face. "So… you can't heal him after all?"

Nangong Yu's expression darkened slightly as well.

"I didn't say that…" Yang Fan hesitated.

"Does that mean there's a chance?" Nangong Yu's eyes sparkled with hope once more.

Yang Fan nodded. "This would be my first attempt, but I'd say I have a ninety percent chance of success."

Ninety percent!

The statement left both Nangong Yu and Iron Bull stunned.

What shocked them even more was that this was his estimation for a first-time attempt.

Nangong Yu couldn't help but cast a suspicious glance at Yang Fan. "Is this apothecary overly confident…?"

"Brother Fan, don't play games. This is my master's fate we're talking about," Iron Bull said, eyes widening in anger.

"These are merely mortal ailments," Yang Fan's tone grew cold at their disbelief. "In the future, the ones I will heal will be figures at the level of immortal masters."

"Since neither of you trust me, I'll take my leave," Yang Fan said, turning to leave with his sister, Yang Huixin.

"Please wait, Apothecary!" Nangong Yu panicked.

"Brother Fan, I beg you. If you heal my master, I'll do anything—be your ox or your horse if need be." 

Iron Bull clung to Yang Fan's leg.

Seeing this, Yang Huixin could not help but feel compassion. She softly urged, "Brother, please, help them."

Under the gaze of the pleading eyes surrounding him, Yang Fan sighed deeply and, with a resolute expression, declared: 

"Very well. It seems I have too soft a heart. As a healer, one must be compassionate, strive to save the world, and love all of humanity…"