◎Needle Technique of Soul Departure, Medical Skill Advancement, Southwest Plan◎
The staff of the Eight Directions Inn were bustling early in the morning.
Outside the courtyard, a long line had already formed, with Yan Feicang standing guard, arms crossed over his sheathed blade, maintaining order.
In the front courtyard, a desk was set up where Yue Shu sat, registering the names, origins, genders, ages, and conditions of those seeking treatment.
After recording, numbered tokens were handed out.
Patients with common ailments received green tokens and were treated by Tiao, while those with special conditions received red tokens, requiring Lu Jianwei’s personal attention.
Family members accompanying the patients either waited outside or were led into the main hall, where Yun Hui, Xue Guanhe, and others served tea and snacks—though, of course, these came at a cost.
Shangguan Yao, along with Little Tao, helped entertain the guests.
"Miss Shangguan, you’re a distinguished guest of the inn. You shouldn’t have to do such tasks—leave them to me," Yun Hui gently advised.
Shangguan Yao’s eyes sparkled. "Why not? I find it lively and fun. I’ve never had such joy back at home."
"But—"
"Aunt Yun, I’m just serving tea. It’s nothing strenuous. If you’re worried, you can ask Sister Lu."
Unable to persuade her, Yun Hui reluctantly gave up, though she kept a watchful eye. Seeing Shangguan Yao grow more adept and show no signs of discomfort, she gradually relaxed.
Meanwhile, Lu Jianwei remained in her room, delving deeper into medical studies.
She had thoroughly mastered the medical texts from Dou Ting’s study and now stood on the threshold of advancing from novice to proficient—only a matter of time.
Her greatest breakthrough was the potential solution to the "Internal Energy Parasitism Syndrome."
After carefully studying Dou Ting’s notes, she found that he had refined Lin Congyue’s treatment method, using rare herbs to suppress the chaotic energy and supplementing it with the Golden Needle Vein-Sealing Technique.
It worked—but at an exorbitant cost, far beyond the means of ordinary people.
His approach was ingenious yet perilous: using the Golden Needle technique to partition another’s internal energy into segmented meridians, effectively splitting it into smaller, manageable portions that Shangguan He could suppress with his own energy.
The risk was immense—one misstep could lead to backlash.
But this method only worked because Shangguan He needed to retain the foreign energy. For patients seeking to purge it entirely, this wasn’t the solution.
Lin Congyue’s method, though incomplete, was more straightforward in principle.
The difficulty in treating "Internal Energy Parasitism" lay in the elusive nature of the invasive energy—hard to capture, suppress, or harmonize.
Lin Congyue’s idea was to first suppress it with medicine, then rely on the body’s innate potential to expel or assimilate it.
Yet the challenges remained: what medicine to use, how much to suppress, and what method to employ for expulsion or assimilation—each a formidable puzzle.
Lu Jianwei mused, "Xiao Ke, ‘Ordinary Guest’ was something I casually bought from the system’s marketplace, yet no one in the martial world can counter it. Back then, I knew little of the world and didn’t question it."
"What’s the issue?" Xiao Ke asked.
"The system’s items either existed in the past or still exist. If ‘Ordinary Guest’ has no known antidote in the martial world, does that mean its formula was lost?"
"Likely."
"So, someone once created ‘Ordinary Guest,’ possibly to treat parasitism?"
"Makes sense."
Lu Jianwei pondered. "Ordinary Guest" could suppress internal energy, but indiscriminately—it didn’t target specific energies and couldn’t cure the syndrome.
The lost formula suggested its ineffectiveness against parasitism.
In short, suppression and assimilation were dead ends.
Internal energy relied on the body. Once dispersed into the air, even in small amounts, it would quickly dissipate.
But if there were a way to draw the parasitic energy out of the body…
"Manager," Uncle Zhang called from outside the door. "A guest has arrived with internal injuries."
"Understood." Lu Jianwei responded, her mind still racing with the earlier train of thought.
A spark of inspiration lingered, awaiting practical testing.
In the front courtyard, a disheveled boy clutched his tattered clothes, his worn-out shoes revealing two bare toes.
"Qi Chuan, sixteen, from Zhangzhou. His mother suffered an attack from a martial artist and hasn’t recovered from internal injuries—correct?" Yue Shu verified the details.
"Yes!" Qi Chuan nodded eagerly, his dark eyes brimming with hope. "Can… can she be cured?"
"That’s for the manager to determine." Yue Shu handed him a red token. "First, pay the deposit."
Qi Chuan froze. "H-how much?"
"Her injuries aren’t minor. The manager takes risks when treating such cases, so the fee isn’t cheap. The deposit is a hundred taels," Yue Shu explained carefully.
He sensed the boy’s desperation, but rules were rules. Treating parasitism was inherently difficult—normally, Lu Jianwei charged at least ten thousand taels. However, since this initiative catered to common folk as well as martial artists, adjustments were made. Still, the sum was staggering.
Qi Chuan’s face paled. He couldn’t scrape together that much even if he sold himself.
He dropped to his knees, kowtowing with such force that his forehead bruised within moments.
Yue Shu hurried to pull him up, but the boy resisted fiercely. Only by channeling his own energy did Yue Shu manage to lift him.
"Please, sir! Save my mother! I’ll do anything—I’m strong, I can work hard!" Qi Chuan pleaded, clinging to this last hope.
In Zhangzhou, he’d found no help. Hearing the tales of the "Heroine of Justice," he’d dragged his mother on a cart all the way to Jiangzhou—a stroke of luck that the two regions bordered each other.
Yue Shu sighed. These past days, he’d seen many who couldn’t afford treatment. His heart ached for them, but the inn wasn’t a charity. If they waived fees for one, where would it end?
"Master Qi, it’s not that I won’t help, but rules are rules. Even at a regular clinic, you’d have to pay for medicine, wouldn’t you?"
Qi Chuan knew this, but he was out of options.
Ordinary clinics couldn’t save his mother.
He covered his face, weeping silently, hating his own helplessness.
Yue Shu’s chest tightened. "There is another rule: if you genuinely can’t pay, you can apply for a temporary reduction by proving your poverty. But it’s not a full waiver—the remaining sum must be repaid later. Do you have proof?"
This was Lu Jianwei’s policy—to prevent fraud.
She’d recently struck a deal with the Mystic Mirror Bureau, which could verify claims of poverty. But the news hadn’t spread yet, and commoners like Qi Chuan were unaware.
He shook his head blankly. "What proof?"
Yue Shu patiently explained it to him once more.
Qi Chuan wore a troubled expression. "Then... then I have to return to Zhangzhou? But my mother can't wait any longer. Can't you treat her first? I won’t ask for a discount—I’ll repay the full consultation fee later."
"This…" Yue Shu hesitated.
"Hey, kid, are you getting treatment or not? If not, move aside!" someone behind them snapped impatiently.
Seeing Yue Shu’s expression, Qi Chuan realized his request wouldn’t be granted.
He wiped away his tears, gritted his teeth, and made up his mind. From his sleeve, he pulled out a piece of jade.
The jade wasn’t of the best quality, appearing rather worn, worth no more than twenty or thirty taels at most.
Clutching it tightly, he asked nervously, "Can I use this jade as a deposit?"
Yue Shu pitied him but could only say, "I’m sorry."
With his last hope shattered, Qi Chuan felt darkness cloud his vision. The exhaustion and fatigue of the past days surged over him like a flood, and his frail body could no longer hold on. He collapsed weakly.
A hand reached out, lightly tapping his shoulder.
Qi Chuan blinked dazedly. Before him stood a woman in plain robes, sunlight spilling behind her like an immortal descending from the heavens.
"You want to save your mother?"
"Yes! I do!"
Lu Jianwei nodded. "I can waive your consultation fee, but on one condition."
"Really?" Qi Chuan was overjoyed. "Please, tell me!"
"Your mother was injured by a martial artist’s attack. I can treat this injury," Lu Jianwei explained clearly. "However, the method I used before carries risks for me. I want to test a new technique—one that, if successful, could be taught to other physicians as well."
Qi Chuan swallowed hard. "...What do you mean?"
"What I mean is," Lu Jianwei said calmly, "your mother would be the first to undergo this treatment. There may be risks. If you agree, I’ll waive all fees and even cure her chronic ailments."
Qi Chuan fell silent for a few breaths before asking, "How great are the risks?"
"The worst outcome would be damage to her meridians," Lu Jianwei replied honestly. "But if that happens, I’ll take responsibility."
Before Qi Chuan could respond, a clamor rose from the crowd behind him.
"Me! I’ll volunteer!"
"Pick me, Innkeeper Lu!"
"Whether it works or not, the meridians will be affected anyway—might as well try! Innkeeper Lu, I’m willing to help!"
With a consultation fee of ten thousand taels at stake, everyone wanted a piece of the bargain.
Qi Chuan snapped back to reality. "Fine! I’ll take the risk!"
This was his only chance. If his mother didn’t receive treatment now, she would suffer until death.
He couldn’t give up. He had to gamble.
Bet on Lu Jianwei’s miraculous skills. Bet on the famed "Heroine of Qingtian" keeping her word.
Lu Jianwei was thorough in her dealings. To avoid future disputes, she instructed Yue Shu to draft a contract. Only after Qi Chuan pressed his fingerprint and signed did she have Madam Qi moved into the treatment room.
Madam Qi wasn’t a martial artist. The lingering internal energy in her meridians came from a Level 4 warrior—one who hadn’t intended to kill her but had ensured she’d suffer.
The energy’s potency was neither too high nor too low, making it perfect for experimentation.
Lu Jianwei’s approach was simple: Meridians could absorb and release internal energy because of their "gates." A person’s own energy flowed naturally through these gates, but foreign energy, being uncontrollable, struggled to exit when external force was applied.
If she could locate these "gates" and use acupuncture to guide the energy out, she could expel the parasitic force.
Martial artists had these gates, and so did non-martial artists—they just remained unused, requiring Lu Jianwei to expend more effort in finding them.
Generally, the "gates" in human meridians were the same. If she could develop a universally applicable acupuncture method, she might solve this injury that had stumped physicians across the martial world.
Lu Jianwei opened her needle case and began her meticulous search.
Previous treatments for similar cases had taken no more than half an incense stick’s time. This time, she spent an entire day.
Many who had come seeking her medical expertise had no choice but to wait for the next day—or the day after.
Qi Chuan sat in the main hall, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the treatment room’s door. Anxiety gnawed at him like ants crawling under his skin. He longed to burst in and see how his mother was faring.
She was his only family left. After all the effort to bring her to Jiangzhou, he just wanted to hear her call his name again.
The treatment hours had long passed. With no other guests remaining in the inn, everyone gathered in the hall, waiting for Lu Jianwei to finish.
Yue Shu whispered, "The innkeeper’s never taken this long before. Is this case particularly difficult?"
"She’s using a new method—it must be challenging," Uncle Zhang said.
Xue Guanhe added, "I’ll go reheat the food. The innkeeper hasn’t eaten all day."
Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a glimpse of pristine white robes.
Everyone rose to their feet, their eyes brimming with concern.
Qi Chuan stood up so abruptly that his stool toppled backward, crashing loudly to the floor.
He paid it no mind, fists clenched as he asked, "Innkeeper Lu, how is my mother?"
"She’s fine now," Lu Jianwei replied softly before turning to Tiao. "Tend to her other old injuries."
"Yes."
Noting her exhaustion, no one dared to trouble her further. As she ascended the stairs, they dispersed to attend to their own tasks.
Qi Chuan: ???
That was it?
Trembling, he asked, "Can I see her?"
Tiao nodded. "You may."
Madam Qi lay peacefully on the treatment bed, the sickly pallor gone from her face, replaced by a healthy glow. The furrow between her brows had smoothed, leaving no trace of pain.
The sight overwhelmed Qi Chuan with joy, and tears streamed down his face.
The Heroine of Qingtian had truly healed his mother!
Upstairs in her third-floor room, Lu Jianwei collapsed onto her bed.
She was exhausted—so much so that she could barely lift her arms. Without her internal energy sustaining her, she would’ve collapsed long ago.
Locating the "gates" had drained most of her strength. By the time she’d guided the foreign energy out with her needles, she hadn’t even had the energy to remove them.
After resting for a while, she finally packed up her needle case.
But the effort had been worth it.
This first attempt had been riddled with trial and error. With more cases, she could refine the technique and reduce the time needed.
In the following days, she treated several more "volunteers," meticulously recording her findings in a journal. She named the technique the "Gate-Sealing Needle Method."
"Congratulations, Jianwei. Your mastery of the Spring and Autumn Medical Canon has advanced to ‘Proficient.’ Keep up the good work." Xiao Ke’s voice suddenly chimed in.
Lu Jianwei felt a quiet satisfaction, though it wasn’t a surprise.
Her progress in the Spring and Autumn Medical Canon didn’t reflect how much of the text she’d memorized—it measured her medical skill by the text’s standards.
After perfectly resolving the parasitic energy ailment, she’d anticipated this improvement.
As expected.
The system had acknowledged her medical breakthrough—a genuine achievement born of her own research.
The level-up was only natural.
And undeniably gratifying.
Having finally conquered this stubborn ailment, Lu Jianwei allowed herself a day off. After all, she didn’t have patients every day.
The early summer sun already radiated intense heat, warming the skin and stirring restlessness in the heart.
Qi Chuan approached Lu Jianwei, his expression resolute as he knelt firmly on the ground and kowtowed several times with sincere reverence.
"Shopkeeper Lu, your life-saving grace is beyond repayment! From this day forward, should you ever have need of me, I would face death without hesitation!"
Lu Jianwei replied lazily, "No need for this. Ours was merely a transaction—each taking what they needed. Now that it's concluded, our paths will likely never cross again."
She had no need for so many people swearing to die for her.
Qi Chuan knew full well his own inadequacy. With so many capable individuals around Shopkeeper Lu, what use could he possibly be?
From his robes, he retrieved a piece of jade—the very same he had hesitated to part with until the last moment to pay for her medical services.
"This is a family heirloom left by my father, the most valuable possession I own. Though it falls far short of repaying your kindness..."
"I told you, there's no need," Lu Jianwei said coolly. "I'm not the benevolent saint you imagine me to be. I save lives only under conditions, as you well know. Keep your heirloom."
Qi Chuan froze.
Though her words were true, he had undeniably received her mercy.
"Shopkeeper Lu." Wen Zhuzhi's voice came softly as he wheeled closer in his chair. "Forgive the intrusion."
Lu Jianwei glanced at him. "Finished with your task?"
"All settled." His gaze drifted to the jade. "Might I take a closer look at Young Master Qi's jade?"
Qi Chuan glanced at Lu Jianwei, and when she showed no reaction, he handed it over.
The jade bore a yellowish hue, clearly aged, its surface carved with intricate patterns. At first glance, it resembled a dragon, but the craftsmanship appeared crude—upon closer inspection, it seemed more like several coiled snakes.
Lu Jianwei asked, "Notice anything unusual?"
"It feels familiar." Wen Zhuzhi closed his eyes, searching his memory until recognition dawned. He looked up at Qi Chuan. "Your surname is Qi, and you're from Zhangzhou?"
"Yes, why?" Qi Chuan frowned in confusion.
"Has your family always lived there?"
"Not exactly. My father mentioned our great-grandfather migrated to Zhangzhou."
Wen Zhuzhi returned the jade. "Keep this safe. Don't show it to others so carelessly."
Though puzzled, Qi Chuan asked no further questions. After bowing once more to Lu Jianwei, he left the inn with his mother.
"So, what did you see?" Lu Jianwei pressed curiously.
Wen Zhuzhi smiled. "If I recall correctly, that jade originates from the Soaring Heaven Hall."
Soaring Heaven Hall.
This wasn't the first time Lu Jianwei had heard of this sect. Its name was audaciously grand, seemingly unconcerned with drawing the imperial court's ire.
Uninterested in other sects, she merely hummed in acknowledgment.
Wen Zhuzhi continued patiently, "This style of jade dates back three generations. The Qi family has preserved it all this time without replacement, likely descendants of an exiled member."
"Three generations?" Lu Jianwei caught the implication. "Soaring Heaven Hall changes its jade tokens every few generations? How much wealth does that require?"
"The hall owns multiple mines. Jade is nothing to them," Wen Zhuzhi chuckled.
Lu Jianwei: "..."
That was obscenely rich.
If she owned several mines, would she have enough to fund her journey home?
A realization struck her. "If this style is from three generations ago, how do you recognize it? The Mystic Mirror Bureau was only established a decade or so back."
With no one else around, Wen Zhuzhi answered plainly, "The bureau has connections to relevant individuals."
"Who?"
He teased, "You've met them before."
Lu Jianwei had encountered few Mystic Mirror envoys. Han Xiaofeng and Feng Yan didn't fit the bill, leaving only—
"Yan Qi?"
She had only crossed paths with Yan Qi once, but the woman's control over Jiangzhou and Nanzhou's waterways confirmed her status as a court official.
It was common knowledge that the Mystic Mirror Bureau's commander was an eighth-level Martial King, with seventh-level deputy commanders beneath them. Yan Qi had to be one of them.
Wen Zhuzhi blinked, then laughed.
"Shopkeeper Lu, being around you often leaves me feeling thoroughly outmatched."
"So I guessed right." Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "Is 'Yan Qi' another pseudonym? Is she from the Qi family? A member of Soaring Heaven Hall?"
"In a sense."
Lu Jianwei couldn't help but admire this. "You recruited a Soaring Heaven Hall descendant into the Mystic Mirror Bureau? Do the hall masters and elders know?"
"Exiled descendants are no longer tied to the hall," Wen Zhuzhi said plainly. "Further details involve private matters I shouldn't disclose."
"Then we'll leave it at that."
Two days later, the tranquil martial world was stirred anew.
A proclamation from the Mystic Mirror Bureau sent shockwaves across the land—particularly among physicians who spent their days immersed in medicine. Unable to contain their astonishment, they flocked to read the notice, demanding clarification.
Local officials dispatched clerks to explain to the gathering crowds.
"It is indeed a sixth-rank physician's medical manual."
"Available for purchase at all official bookstores. Anyone may study it."
"Pricing details are available at the stores."
Beyond the medical texts, another announcement gave the Divine Physician Valley a headache.
Opinions within the valley were divided.
"The Mystic Mirror Bureau goes too far! First, they spread Dou Ting's manuals, and now they target the rest of our collection!"
"Wait—even if Dou Ting was interrogated, he couldn't have memorized every manual."
"What's the point of arguing? I don't care about Dou Ting's texts, but the others must not leave the valley!"
"The victims haven't even spoken up. By what right does the bureau interfere?"
Yuan Qiong disagreed. "Some of those manuals were stolen by Dou Ting. Returning them to the rightful heirs is only just."
When Lu Jianwei had searched Dou Ting's residence, she'd raised this very issue, but her voice had been too small to sway the valley's leadership.
"Physician Yuan, whose side are you on?" someone sneered. "Martial artists live by the rule of strength—the powerful take what they want without consequence. We're the Divine Physician Valley! Why should we care about rumors? Dou Ting's belongings are valley property. Why should we surrender them?"
Yuan Qiong retorted angrily, "Hearing you speak like this proves you lack a physician's compassion. The day you find yourself at another's mercy, you'll understand true cruelty. I have matters to attend to."
Frowning, she returned to the Peony Pavilion, where Bai Guo greeted her with concern. "Master, did something upset you? Who made you angry?"
Yuan Qiong sat amidst the blooming peonies, her disappointment and dejection overwhelming.
"No one angered me. I'm angry at myself."
Bai Guo tilted her head. "Why?"
"I always believed the Divine Physician Valley was a tranquil paradise where I could devote myself to medicine without distraction."
"Isn't it?"
"No." Yuan Qiong smiled bitterly. "There is no paradise in this world. What we call paradise is merely an illusion that blinds the eyes and heart."
Bai Guo didn't fully grasp her meaning but offered comfort nonetheless. "Master, I think our Peony Pavilion is paradise. If paradise lives in your heart, then anywhere can be paradise."
Yuan Qiong paused for a moment, then gently touched her braided pigtails and smiled. "You really do have a way with words, don’t you? Bai Guo, my medical skills have stagnated all these years—perhaps because I’ve let comfort erode my fighting spirit. I’ve decided to leave the valley for a while. Would you like to come with me?"
"Wherever Master goes, I go." Bai Guo’s excitement was palpable. "I’ve barely left the valley in all my years. Master, where are we headed?"
After a brief thought, Yuan Qiong replied decisively, "Jiangzhou."
The public release of Dou Ting’s medical texts had sent waves of excitement through the medical community, but before the fervor could settle, the news that the Divine Physician Valley refused to return the texts stirred fresh controversy.
Most martial artists paid no mind.
As long as they could receive treatment for their injuries, the matter of the medical texts was irrelevant to them.
Only a small fraction of righteous martial artists and physicians—whose fates were directly tied to the issue—closely followed the developments.
No physician wanted to see their hard-earned research stolen or snatched away.
Their hearts ached for their fellow practitioners who had been wronged, as they could deeply empathize with their plight.
The Divine Physician Valley’s stance was clear: they sought to maintain their unrivaled dominance in the medical world. If they caved to the Mystic Mirror Bureau’s pressure and obediently returned the texts, how could they still claim to be the sacred haven of physicians?
The barking of a few dogs was nothing to worry about.
As long as there were martial artists who feared death and physicians eager to master advanced medical techniques, the Divine Physician Valley’s status would remain unshaken.
Martial artists paid exorbitant fees for treatment, and physicians who wished to study in the valley had to offer hefty tuition.
The Divine Physician Valley would always stand invincible.
At the Eight Directions Inn, Lu Jianwei had accumulated enough experience to perfect the Soul-Separating Needle Technique and had already laid out her next plan—
A journey to the southwest.
