Chapter 97: First Patient

Translator: Tim Editor: Chrissy/Tehrn

A five-year-old child was carried in, his eyes tightly shut, his face pale, and his body convulsing.

"Doctor, please save my son! The ambulance is twenty minutes away! I'm afraid Xanxan won't last more than ten…" Yu Erhu’s door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman frantically carrying a small child. A middle-aged man, his face etched with worry, followed closely behind, along with a woman in her fifties.

Ye Mo noted the entire family was present. The child had likely suffered a relapse and needed immediate hospital care. The twenty-minute ambulance delay, however, prompted them to seek immediate help at his clinic. Their desperation was palpable.

"Master…" Yu Erhu, despite his training in traditional Chinese medicine under his grandfather, acknowledged Ye Mo's superior skills.

Ye Mo, intending to mentor Yu Erhu, accepted the title. The child's condition, however, was clearly beyond Yu Erhu's capabilities.

Approaching the woman, Ye Mo instructed, "Please lay your child on the bed."

Overwhelmed with panic, the woman obeyed without question.

As Ye Mo retrieved his silver needles, the middle-aged man intervened, "Wait! What are you doing? We just need you to buy us time until the ambulance arrives. Why the needles?" His initial worry gave way to apprehension. This was a new clinic, and he saw no certification.

Ye Mo paused, his gaze indifferent. He didn't mind helping, but their distrust was a deterrent.

A cultivator, though accustomed to Earth, Ye Mo didn't place undue weight on the lives of ordinary people. He wasn't heartless, however. He'd helped those who'd aided him before. But he wouldn't plead for their trust.

His spirit sense revealed a severe, almost fatal arterial condition. Modern medicine offered no cure.

The middle-aged man fell silent, uncertain.

"Since you don't trust me, leave," Ye Mo said, retracting the needles (provided by Yu Erhu, who often accompanied his grandfather). Yu Erhu, accustomed to grateful patients, found their current reaction inexplicable: "You're lucky my master is willing to help!"

The woman, pushing her husband aside, knelt before Ye Mo. "Doctor, please save Xanxan! He nearly died last time… Please!" She saw his immediate recourse to needles as a sign of skill.

Ye Mo waved a hand. "Get up. Your kneeling hinders my treatment."

The man, seeing the child's pallor shift to purple, fell silent. The older woman appeared numb.

Ye Mo swiftly applied acupuncture, without removing the child's clothes (a detail unfamiliar to the family, though understood by Yu Erhu, who had faith in Ye Mo's skill). He used the needles to channel his chi, gradually stabilizing the damaged arteries. A full cure required a higher cultivation level and specific herbs. He dared not attempt a complete cure in his current situation, lest it attract unwanted attention.

Within ten minutes, the child's color returned to normal. The parents' relief was evident.

The ambulance siren wailed.

The couple, remembering Ye Mo's intervention, rushed to thank him.

Ye Mo dismissed them, "The ambulance is here. Take your child to the hospital." A checkup was beneficial, even if a complete cure was impossible. They left without paying.

Meanwhile, at Flowing Snake, Chi Wanqing and Ning Qingxue learned of Ye Mo's absence. Ning Qingxue revealed Ye Mo’s conflict with the Song family, shocking Chi Wanqing, aware of the Song family's considerable power.

"Wanqing, you think Ye Mo went to the desert?" Ning Qingxue, incredulous at Ye Mo’s supposed ordinary life, questioned Chi Wanqing’s assertion.

"I believe so," Chi Wanqing said. "I helped him decipher a goatskin map; his reaction was pure elation. He's likely searching for something there."

Ning Qingxue believed her. His behavior—sleeping outdoors, etc.—was inexplicable, as was his miraculous healing of her injuries. She knew of the existence of Ancient Martial Arts practitioners, but their rarity made Ye Mo's abilities seem even more extraordinary.

"Do you still have the map?" Ning Qingxue asked.

Chi Wanqing produced a copy: "This is my recreation of the original." The map showed the Taklimakan Desert, with several points marked deep within its boundaries. Ning Qingxue, familiar with the desert's deadly reputation, wondered what Ye Mo sought.

"May I have a copy?" Ning Qingxue requested.

"You can keep this one," Chi Wanqing replied. Then, an apprehensive thought struck her: "You aren't planning to search for him, are you?"