Threads of Influence

Mo Bei stood at the edge of the governor's courtyard, his thoughts weighing heavier than ever. The past few days had been a whirlwind—from treating noble families to exposing flaws in the city's sanitation. His reputation had soared, but with it came new dangers.

The governor, Lord Xu Shancheng, had extended an invitation that was more of a command. While he had seemed reasonable in their first meeting, Mo Bei knew that every ruler had their own agenda. His influence in the city was growing, and that meant he was becoming a piece on a much larger board.

As Mo Bei walked through the long stone corridors leading to the governor's chambers, he noticed subtle changes—guards paying him more attention, servants who once ignored him now bowing their heads. Influence was a strange thing. It could be used as a tool or a noose, depending on how one wielded it.

Inside the chamber, Lord Xu sat with several advisors, their sharp eyes studying Mo Bei as he entered. The governor's expression was unreadable, but Mo Bei could sense the underlying tension in the room.

"Doctor Mo," Lord Xu greeted, gesturing for him to sit. "Your work has caused quite a stir."

Mo Bei remained composed. "I am simply fulfilling my duty as a physician."

A thin, elderly advisor scoffed. "Duty? You have treated the commoners as if they are equal to nobles, stirred unrest among the healers of this city, and now rumors spread that you intend to reform medical practices."

Mo Bei met the man's gaze calmly. "If saving lives is considered a disruption, then perhaps our priorities are misaligned."

Lord Xu raised a hand, silencing the murmurs among his council. "Let us not mistake ambition for recklessness. I summoned you here, Doctor Mo, because I believe your knowledge can serve a greater purpose."

Mo Bei leaned slightly forward. "And what purpose might that be, my lord?"

The governor's eyes glinted. "War is on the horizon. Bandit lords in the southern provinces grow bolder, and the empire will soon demand action. Our armies will march; when they do, they will require skilled physicians. I want you to oversee a medical corps."

Mo Bei's fingers curled slightly against his lap. He had expected something like this, but hearing it aloud solidified the path ahead.

"War breeds suffering," Mo Bei said slowly. "My priority is saving lives, not aiding conquest."

A younger advisor sneered. "The sick and wounded will die without proper care! If you refuse, you abandon them to fate."

Mo Bei exhaled. "I did not say I refuse. But I will not be a tool for war. If I am to oversee a medical corps, I will do so with full autonomy—no interference from the military, no restrictions on who I treat."

Murmurs erupted again. Lord Xu studied Mo Bei before nodding. "You are bolder than most. Very well. You will have my seal of authority. But remember, Doctor Mo—power draws enemies. Tread carefully."

Leaving the governor's residence, Mo Bei felt an unusual mixture of accomplishment and unease. He had secured influence, but it meant he was now a player in a game he had not asked to join.

As he walked through the city, he noticed someone waiting near his temporary clinic—Zhao Wen, the senior physician who had once doubted him.

"I heard about your appointment," Zhao Wen said. "The governor does not grant power lightly."

Mo Bei studied the older man. "You disapprove?"

Zhao Wen sighed. "Not entirely. But the more you rise, the more enemies you make. There are healers in this city who resent your methods, merchants who see your reforms as threats to their profits. And now, you are aligning with the governor? Do you realize how precarious your position is?"

Mo Bei nodded. "I do. But I cannot turn away from what is needed."

Zhao Wen's expression softened slightly. "Then let me give you advice—trust no one fully, not even those who claim to support you. Power shifts like the wind. Those who praise you today may condemn you tomorrow."

Over the next several weeks, Mo Bei set about establishing the medical corps. He recruited physicians, herbalists, and even commoners willing to train in basic first aid. The city's military officers were skeptical at first, but as Mo Bei demonstrated battlefield treatments and efficient triage techniques, even the hardened warriors began to acknowledge his value.

[System Notification: Medical Corps Established. Reward: +5 Intelligence, +5 Leadership]

His system continued to grow with him. Skills once theoretical became second nature. He developed antiseptic techniques that reduced infections, taught soldiers how to close wounds effectively, and trained apprentices who could carry his methods beyond the city walls.

Yet, with progress came resistance. The city's more conservative physicians openly opposed his reforms, spreading rumors that he practiced unorthodox medicine. Some merchants, angered by his refusal to endorse their ineffective remedies, attempted to sabotage his work.

One evening, as Mo Bei reviewed medical records, an urgent knock sounded at his door. A young apprentice rushed in, his face pale.

"Doctor Mo! One of your patients—the merchant you treated for poisoning—has been found dead. They're saying you failed in your treatment!"

Mo Bei's eyes narrowed. He knew the patient had been recovering well. This was not coincidence—it was sabotage.

He stood, his voice calm but firm. "Then it's time we find the truth."

As Mo Bei stepped into the night, he realized that healing the sick was only one battle. The greater war was against deception, greed, and the shifting tides of power.

And he had no intention of losing.