Dongling’s Medical King

At night, Xiaolong slept peacefully by Huo Xuan's bedside while the Shangs occupied the adjacent room. Puzzled by the flight incident, Huo Xuan finally dialed Hua Buyi.

"Huo Xuan, what happened?" Hua Buyi's voice came through.

"Master, Xu Bo's men ambushed me after I disembarked the train yesterday."

"Zhang Wu will handle this. Stay clear."

"Another case." Huo Xuan recounted the flight incident.

After silence, Hua Buyi said: "Your True Immortal Physique manifests—you perceive spiritual entities. Folk would call that a female ghost."

"Do ghosts truly exist?" Huo Xuan gasped.

"The cosmos holds infinite mysteries," Hua Buyi replied. "We label this phenomenon 'ghost'—their origins and destinations remain unknown."

"Some theorize ghosts are wave energy resonating with brainwaves," Huo Xuan ventured. "Is this plausible?"

"Your theory holds merit," Hua Buyi chuckled. "Though only the ghosts know the truth."

"I'll try to cure the boy," Huo Xuan said.

"Dongling's Medical King (Yiwang) has skill but a petty nature. Avoid him."

"Understood, Master."

All night, Huo Xuan scrutinized Xiaolong's body seeking ghostly traces—finding nothing.

"If ghosts are brainwave energy..." He pondered, "Can my X-ray vision detect this?"

Exhausted, Huo Xuan slept until 3-4 AM. Awakening, he found Xiaolong grinning: "Uncle... pee-pee..."

Glancing at his watch—8:15 AM already—Huo Xuan scooped up Xiaolong for a bathroom trip. After freshening up, they found the Shangs had prepared breakfast.

"Master Huo, we're indebted for last night's care," Shang Yang expressed gratitude.

"Just call me Huo Xuan," he waved off the formality. "No need for honorifics between us."

"Then I'll address you as 'younger brother' with this old face," Shang Yang chuckled.

Over congee and pickled vegetables, Huo Xuan mentioned: "I'll observe when you meet Dongling's Medical King."

"Your presence reassures me," Shang Yang pressed. "Can Xiaolong truly be cured?"

"Let the Medical King try first," Huo Xuan cautioned. "I'll intervene if needed."

The three chatted casually until past noon, yet despite prolonged waiting, the so-called Dongling Medical King remained absent. The middle-aged man tasked with receiving Shang Yang grew increasingly anxious, sweat beading on his forehead as he made repeated urging phone calls.

Shang Yang saw things clearly—renowned physicians like this often had an air of arrogance. It wouldn't be surprising if the delay was intentional, so he remained unhurried and ordered the servants to serve lunch. It wasn't until after the meal, past two in the afternoon, that the so-called King of Dongling Medicine finally arrived.

In the 18th-floor VIP suite stood Gu Mosheng—50s, portly, with jet-black dyed hair and alcohol-flushed cheeks.

An entourage of over a dozen acolytes trailed him: note-taking interns, medicine carriers, and tea-pouring assistants.

"Master Gu, your presence honors us," Shang Yang gestured to the rosewood armchair.

"Unavoidable delays," Gu Mosheng sniffed, settling into the seat of honor without apology.

Please, you flatter me," Shang Yang replied courteously. "We beg Master Gu to work your medical wonders and save my kid.

Gu Mosheng sipped his tea first. "Present the child."

Madame Shang extended Xiaolong's wrist. The Medical King spent three full minutes pulse-reading before demanding: "Describe his night terrors."

After listening, Gu Mosheng pondered for a moment and said: "The pulse diagnosis shows minor issues—merely mental disturbance caused by fright. I'll prescribe medicinal formulas for trial observation."

A long-faced youth from his entourage handed over pen and paper. "Divine Healer Gu" swiftly wrote a prescription and passed it to Shang Yang.

Shang Yang's expression froze as he read the prescription. Standing nearby, Huo Xuan memorized every ingredient through his X-ray vision.

Gu Mosheng stood abruptly. "Take the medicine for a month before seeking follow-up consultation." He turned to leave immediately.

Madame Shang blurted: "Master Gu, Mr. Huo understands Xiaolong's condition. Could two experts collaborate for faster recovery?"

The entourage burst into snickers. "Madame," a disciple sneered, "medical discourse isn't for uncredentialed youngsters."

Huo Xuan smiled faintly without retort.

Gu Mosheng sized him up: "Are you a physician?"

"Not yet," Huo Xuan replied evenly, "though I plan to study medicine."

The room erupted in laughter. "Learning medicine at his age?" mocked a follower. "He should study how to get sick properly!"

"Consulting an amateur about treatment? Ridiculous!" another jeered.

"The world's full of frauds," a voice hissed. "Probably some scammer here to freeload."

The entourage's words grew increasingly vitriolic. Huo Xuan's tone turned icy: "I cure without credentials. Yet you disciples—has any of you healed this child?"

These were Dongling doctors clinging to Gu's prestige—half-apprentices seeking career advancement.

The group roared in unison: "You dare claim healing skills? This isn't a liar's stage!"

Gu Mosheng's brow furrowed: "You assert curative ability?"

Huo Xuan countered: "Can't you cure it?" His disdain for the crowing entourage—and Gu's arrogance—shredded all pretense of civility.

Gu Mosheng snorted dismissively. The long-faced disciple stepped forward, snarling: "You gutter trash dare address Divine Doctor Gu? Scram before we teach you manners!"

The chorus of insults finally eroded Shang Yang's patience. "Six physicians prescribed identical formulas before you," he said coldly. "All failed."

Gu Mosheng's face darkened with displeasure. "Why invite me if you distrust my expertise?"

Shang Yang glanced at Huo Xuan, who nodded. "Since this 'doctor' can't cure Xiaolong," Huo Xuan declared, "let's stop wasting time."

The entourage exploded. "Bullshit!" roared a disciple. "How dare this charlatan question Master Gu's skills?"

"You're the fraud!" another shouted. "Ignorant worm challenging Mount Tai!"

"Master Gu cured thousands!" a woman shrilled. "Your slander deserves capital punishment!"

"Call the police!" a voice demanded. "Fifteen days' detention for defamation!"

Huo Xuan barked a humorless laugh, silencing the room. "Your so-called 'Medical King' couldn't cure a headache," he sneered.

Years of cultivation couldn't suppress his fury. "If you want war," he thought, "you'll get annihilation."

Gu Mosheng's voice dripped venom: "You presume to cure this?"

"Irrelevant to you," Huo Xuan retorted. "But cease your 'Medical King' charade—it's pathetic."

Gu Mosheng's jowls trembled. "Reckless words," he hissed, "bear dire consequences."

Huo Xuan grew even more incensed. His expression turned icy as he retorted, "Gu Mosheng, don't try to intimidate me with your reputation. Let me make this clear - my master is Hua Buyi. His skills surpass yours, his renown eclipses yours, and his medical ethics outshine yours. Compared to my master, what are you if not a quack?"

At the name "Hua Buyi", Shang Yang and Gu Mosheng's complexions shifted dramatically. Delighted recognition dawned on Shang Yang's face—he knew the Divine Physician's disciple must possess curative prowess.

Gu Mosheng's initial shock curdled into palpable bitterness, his features cycling through suppressed emotions.

The entourage, ignorant of Hua Buyi's legend, maintained their stream of obscenities. Two burly disciples rolled up their sleeves, advancing menacingly.

Xiaolong erupted in a shrill, guttural wail, thrashing his limbs wildly—a seizure of primal terror that froze the room.

A cold glint flashed in Gu Mosheng's eyes as he said icily: "Since you bear Hua Buyi's mantle, this burden is yours."