Chapter Three: The Eighteen Scrolls of the Celestial Physician and the Scripture of Venoms
This was simply unbelievable!
The crowd at the scene erupted, staring at the ‘corpse’ on the stretcher that suddenly began to move.
“No way! Did he really come back to life?”
“Didn’t Director Cao already declare him dead? What’s going on here?”
“Damn, is this some kind of zombie? Are we filming a movie?”
“Come on, it’s just that young man’s medical skills are extraordinary. He truly brought someone back from the brink!”
“I agree, the young man must be highly skilled. The patient was probably in a state of apparent death, but Dr. Cao misdiagnosed it!”
“I can’t believe it—this is a human life at stake! And this guy’s actually a department director? I’m going to expose him!”
“That quack, Cao! I’m filing a complaint. He has to be kicked out!”
“…”
The reactions were mixed.
As the discussion grew louder, most people gradually aimed their anger at Cao Desheng, the atmosphere charged with indignation.
At that moment, Cao Desheng was utterly stunned.
He never imagined that a patient he had confirmed dead with medical instruments would actually awaken.
As a professional, he was even more shaken.
Because Su Zheng hadn’t used any medication or surgery—just a simple box of silver needles. In a few short minutes, he shattered medical convention and forcibly revived someone who had been pronounced dead!
This… this defied science!
Cao Desheng could hardly believe his eyes, but his attention was quickly drawn to the curses and accusations from all around him.
Most people were berating and scolding him.
His face, already numb with shock, turned livid in an instant.
It was over—completely over!
Forget about the chance to go abroad for exchange; it’s likely he wouldn’t even keep his position as director!
He even regretted announcing his name moments ago.
If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been recognized so quickly, and now, explanations were impossible.
As the crowd’s emotions intensified, Cao Desheng’s heart raced. In the end, like a beaten dog, he slunk away in disgrace.
“Mom, are you feeling better?”
Su Zheng called softly, relieved to see his mother slowly open her eyes.
The first time he used the inherited medical skills in his mind, he saved his mother from the brink of death.
This greatly boosted Su Zheng’s confidence. He was now more curious than ever about that bundle of memories, determined to study them closely when he had the time.
The Su family’s ancestral inheritance consisted of two parts: the Eighteen Volumes of the Heavenly Physician and the Poison Scripture.
The Eighteen Volumes covered acupuncture, pharmacology, massage, dietary therapy, guiding exercises, energy regulation, health preservation… All aspects of traditional medicine, involving the Five Elements, unblocking meridians, contending with fate itself!
The Poison Scripture was shrouded in mystery. It didn’t discuss the toxins found in the world, but rather explained those already present, deposited within the human body.
Heaven and earth are turbid; as people eat grains and breathe impure air, everyone harbors toxins within, suppressed only by their vital energy, thus remaining hidden.
Once these toxins are triggered by certain factors, illness may ensue—or even death.
The Poison Scripture detailed myriad ways to activate internal toxins!
Thus, the ancestral inheritance was said, once fully mastered, to grant the power to decide life and death with a single thought.
Silver needles save lives; the Poison Scripture brings death. Walking the earth, none dare defy!
Of course, Su Zheng knew the road ahead was long; he was only at the very beginning.
“Xiao Zheng, did I… did I die? Cough, cough…”
His mother, Yu Qiulei, regained consciousness and instinctively tried to sit up, only to be seized by a fit of coughing.
“Mom, you’re safe now. Your body is just a bit weak. With some rest, you’ll make a full recovery!”
Su Zheng’s joy was irrepressible; saving his mother from death with his own hands filled him with boundless emotion.
“Nurse, stop standing there! Hurry and take the patient to a ward to rest—the best ward you have, do you understand?”
At that moment,
A young woman commanded the two nurses coldly, acting as if this place were her own domain, completely at ease.
The two nurses finally snapped out of their daze, nodding hurriedly, and carefully helped Su Zheng move Yu Qiulei into a luxurious private room.
“Hello, may I have a word with you?”
Once Yu Qiulei was asleep and the nurses quietly left, the young woman, who had been waiting outside, entered.
Su Zheng glanced at her and gestured toward the door.
Qiao Lan understood and the two stepped outside.
“What is it?”
Su Zheng asked calmly.
Since merging with his ancestral inheritance, his entire demeanor was shifting—more composed, steady, and confident.
“My name is Qiao Lan. I just wanted to inform you, sir, that Cao Desheng will be dismissed tomorrow morning.”
“And, may I ask your name? Would you mind being friends?”
Qiao Lan was direct, handing Su Zheng the hospital bill with grace.
Su Zheng glanced at it: the medical expenses totaled over one hundred ten thousand, all paid in full. The luxury ward his mother now occupied had three months’ rent prepaid—thirty-five thousand.
Altogether, more than forty-six thousand.
Su Zheng looked at Qiao Lan, silently surprised.
This woman was not ordinary—so generous, she likely wanted more than just friendship.
At that moment, Qiao Lan removed her mask and sunglasses, revealing her true face.
Fair skin, striking features, a tall figure, flaxen hair and deep-set eyes, her subtle smile imparted an indescribable androgynous beauty.
Su Zheng studied her, his brows gradually furrowing.
His expression froze Qiao Lan’s smile, uncertain what it meant.
“Let’s skip the friendship. As for your illness, this hospital can’t help you. I can treat you, as repayment for your favor.”
Su Zheng finished, raising the bill in his hand.
“Thank you, thank you; Qiao Lan will never forget your great kindness!”
“Don’t thank me yet—I haven’t determined your condition. I hope you’ll answer my questions honestly, or I won’t be able to diagnose.”
Su Zheng waved his hand, indicating Qiao Lan should follow him to another empty ward.
“Yes… certainly. Just now, I heard your mother call you Xiao Zheng. I’ll call you Brother Zheng from now on, for familiarity’s sake!”
Qiao Lan was quick-witted, relieved at last.
She had come to the hospital late at night precisely because her condition was awkward to discuss.
She instructed Director Cao Desheng to take the night shift, hoping the hospital would be quiet when she sought treatment.
Su Zheng said nothing, but glanced at Qiao Lan.
Her social skills were impressive, and she was generous; likely she was no unknown figure in Qingyang City.
But when it came to discussing her illness, he wondered if she’d be so forthcoming.
Entering the ward,
Qiao Lan became inexplicably nervous.
“I’ll ask you: has your urine been normal lately?”
Su Zheng sat down, asking bluntly.
“It’s… a bit cloudy.”
“Any pain or stinging?”
“Do you really need to ask that?”
“Yes, it’s important for my diagnosis.”
“No… none.”
“What about a burning sensation?”
“You… hmph, none!”
“That’s troublesome; your condition is quite serious!”
“Ah…”