81. Fang Ping's Life

Inside a dimly lit room, a woman sat with great concentration, carefully preparing tea. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a man in a dark robe stepped inside. 

"Miss, he is out," the man reported. 

Without looking up, the woman replied, "He should not be able to return to the Princess's Mansion." 

"Yes, Miss," the man acknowledged before turning and walking away without another word. 

A voice emerged from the shadows—another woman, Ling'er, hidden in the darkness. 

"Did you complete the preparations for the Princess to be inflicted with the plague?" the woman asked. 

Ling'er responded, "We bribed a servant inside the Princess's Mansion." 

A satisfied smile played on the woman's lips. "Then, by this time tomorrow night, I should hear the news that the Princess has caught the plague." 

"Yes, Miss," Ling'er affirmed before vanishing once more into the shadows. 

The woman lifted her teacup, took a slow sip, and as the warmth spread through her, so did a smirk across her crimson lips. 

"Good tea." 

---- 

Gavin murmured subconsciously, "It really looks like a good tea." 

Fang Ping glanced at him. "Master, what did you say?" 

Gavin shook his head. "Nothing." 

Fang Ping studied his master's face. He was sure he had heard something about "good tea." Did his master enjoy tea? He suddenly recalled that his home had some excellent tea leaves. He should present them to his master one day. 

"Master, after the plague passes, I will take you to my home," Fang Ping said. "We have some high-quality tea leaves there." 

Gavin arched an eyebrow. "Your home is not in the city." 

Fang Ping shook his head. "No, Master. And thank the heavens it's not. My home is half a day's journey by horse, in a village called Fang Village." 

Gavin browsed through the memories in his mind, recalling information about the village. "Your father is Fang Qing, once known as the Knife Demon in his youth." 

Fang Ping's eyes widened in surprise. "Yes! But how do you know that, Master? His story is more than 25 years old. Most people have forgotten him." 

Gavin smirked slightly. "Your father never forced you to practice martial arts?" 

Fang Ping let out a chuckle. "Oh, he did. But my mother was on my side. She stopped him from forcing me." 

Gavin nodded. "So, you wanted to rebel against him? You're already 22—your rebellious streak hasn't faded?" 

Fang Ping sighed. "My father always said that only a strong martial artist can gain respect in this world. I wanted to prove to him that I could earn respect without being a martial artist." 

Gavin tilted his head. "Then why did you become my student?" 

Fang Ping smiled. "If you had asked me five years ago, I would have refused. But after becoming a doctor, my dream changed. Now, I want to save as many lives as possible. By becoming your disciple, I can heal more people." 

Gavin nodded but said nothing more as the first mansion came into view. 

Two minutes later, the carriage rolled to a stop. 

Fang Ping stepped out first, followed by Gavin. Moving toward the gate of the house, Fang Ping reached for a string and gave it a firm pull. 

A minute later, a voice called out from behind the gate. 

"Who?"

Fang Ping replied, "I am Fang Ping, and Dr. Gavin is with me." 

The voice behind the gate responded quickly, "Dr. Gavin? Please wait a moment." Footsteps faded away into the distance. 

Two minutes later, hurried footsteps approached, and the gate creaked open. Two men stood before them—one older and one younger. 

The older man bowed slightly. "Dr. Gavin, my apologies for the wait," he said before turning and slapping the younger man on the back of the head. "This fool didn't realize you were coming." 

Gavin waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine. Now, take me to the patient." 

The older man nodded. "Follow me." 

Gavin and Fang Ping followed him through the courtyard. After a few minutes, they reached a room where a small crowd had gathered outside. 

A woman rushed toward Gavin, tears streaming down her face. "Dr. Gavin, please save my son!" 

Gavin met her desperate gaze. "There is no cure for the plague." 

A man stepped forward behind the woman, his voice laced with tension. "Then how will you treat him?" 

Gavin answered steadily, "I will find a way to keep him alive until a cure is found." 

The man narrowed his eyes. "I heard you can only keep them stable for three days." 

"That is because they were on the brink of death, with only hours left," Gavin explained. 

The man clenched his fists. "And my son?" 

"I need to see the patient before I can answer that." 

The man exhaled sharply, then nodded. "Please… save my son. I will reward you handsomely." 

Gavin gave a brief nod and stepped forward, pushing open the door. Fang Ping followed close behind.

Inside the room, Gavin observed the teenager wrapped in blankets, shivering from the fever—a common side effect of the plague. He extended his spiritual field, sensing the boy's dwindling vitality as it seeped from his body and sank into the ground below. 

This plague wasn't inherently lethal. Instead, it weakened the body, damaging the life source and creating an opening. That was when the hidden array activated, siphoning the vitality from the weakened life source. 

The array was the true killer. 

Gavin began his act. He placed two fingers on the boy's wrist, checking his pulse with a serious and thoughtful expression before pulling his hand away. 

Turning to Fang Ping, he said, "Bring me a scroll book, ink, and a pen." 

Fang Ping quickly handed them over. Gavin found a table, opened the scroll book, and dipped the pen in ink. On the first page, he wrote a prescription for a potion to replenish the boy's vitality. On the second, a body refinement potion. 

Tearing out the pages, he walked up to the boy's father, who had entered the room, and handed them to him. 

The father frowned at the prescriptions. "My son hasn't woken up." 

"Give him the first potion," Gavin replied. "He will wake within an hour." 

As they spoke near the door, the boy's mother, who had been standing outside, interjected. "I heard your patients feel better within five minutes." 

"I used my energy to treat them," Gavin responded. 

The father stepped forward. "Then do the same for my son." 

"Your son doesn't need it," Gavin said firmly. "I only use my energy on those who are moments away from death." 

His gaze sharpened as he added, "You are a martial artist in the True Essence Realm, yet your son has no trace of martial training in his body. Why?" 

The father sighed. "His mother wants him to become a scholar and pass the imperial exam. She doesn't want him to be a vulgar martial artist who only knows fighting and killing." 

The mother crossed her arms. "Yes! What future would he have as a martial artist?" 

Gavin frowned. "And what future does he have if he dies from a simple plague?" 

Fang Ping stepped in. "If he were a True Essence Realm martial artist, the plague wouldn't even touch him. Even if he were at a lower realm, it would have been much harder for the disease to take hold." 

Gavin added, "Martial arts isn't just about fighting and killing. It strengthens the body and prolongs life." 

The father turned to his wife. "Now you see? I have told you countless times, but you never listened. Will you listen to Dr. Gavin now?" 

The mother hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. Once he recovers, I will allow him to train." 

Gavin shook his head. "Not later. The second potion is a body refinement potion. He needs to start training immediately. You should assist him with exercise." 

He then turned toward Fang Ping. "We should go." 

Before they could leave, the father hurriedly pulled out a small pouch. "Wait, Dr. Gavin." He handed it over. "This contains 100 Vitality Gems." 

Gavin shook his head. "I did not heal him with my energy. I will only take 10." 

After taking his payment, Gavin and Fang Ping stepped out of the house, led by the grateful father. This time, they didn't return to the carriage. The second patient lived in the house right next door.