Chapter Eleven: You Still Call Yourself Modern Medicine?

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Feng Xue muttered to herself about the seemingly dubious brand, but watching the middle-aged women bustling in and out, wearing wide-brimmed hats and whale-bone skirts, panting yet never stopping their steps, she ultimately didn’t dare approach. Instead, she silently grumbled in her heart:

“Just from a glance, there are at least seven or eight ladies dressed in Western clothes. Considering the price of the perfume, it’s unlikely this group of women treats the perfume shop as a daily social hangout. It would be too much of a coincidence if I just happened to run into them here. This only shows the normal foot traffic of this store is like this. By that logic, there must be quite a few wealthy people in this small county town, huh?”

Reviewing the knowledge she had researched while writing in her previous life, she could only think of two possibilities—

First, the county might be near an airport or a port or be a key transportation hub, leveraging its geographical advantage to amass considerable wealth.

Second, among the current local leaders, there might be a powerful figure attracting numerous wealthy investors to build factories here, driving the economy.

Other possibilities like tourist attractions existed, but considering the barren mountain her previous world had been set in, that was basically ruled out…

“Wait!”

Suddenly, Feng Xue remembered this world had extraordinary powers, so maybe…

Could this county be a feng shui treasure spot?

“If that’s the case, then perhaps we can really find a master here!”

While her mind spun with such thoughts, she had already arrived in front of a pharmacy. Looking at the signboard reading “Lan’s Pharmacy,” Feng Xue brushed off the crumbs from her sesame cake and decisively pushed the door open.

“Are you here to get medicine or to see a doctor?” As she stepped in, the clear chime of a bell rang, followed by a voice that sounded somewhat excited. Looking up, she noticed the interesting setup: on the left were the traditional wooden medicine cabinets common in Chinese pharmacies, while on the right were aluminum shelves holding rows of plastic bottles.

The speaker, clad in a white coat, stood by a consultation desk at the front. Though wearing a mask that covered most of her face, the shape of her eyes and facial contours suggested she wasn’t unattractive. Feng Xue’s attention, however, was drawn to the number hovering above the woman’s head—thirty thousand some days.

“That’s over a hundred years old. Considering she looks quite young, she must have some real skill,” Feng Xue thought, nodding silently. Then she formally spoke:

“Are you… Miss Lan?”

“If you don’t mind, please call me Doctor Lan. I have a medical license, though hardly anyone here recognizes it.” Doctor Lan pointed to a photo frame on the desk displaying her open medical certification.

Judging by the string of English letters on it, Feng Xue guessed that even if people wanted to acknowledge it, they probably wouldn’t understand.

Perhaps sensing her opening line was a bit off, Doctor Lan pulled out the chair in front of the desk and gestured Feng Xue to sit, forcibly steering the conversation back on track:

“You look well. Is something bothering you?”

Seeing Doctor Lan immediately preparing a rather old-fashioned blood pressure monitor, Feng Xue quickly said:

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“I’m not dizzy, and my blood pressure is fine!”

“Oh, you know about that?” Doctor Lan raised an eyebrow and then examined Feng Xue’s attire more carefully. “You’re a stranger?”

“So you hadn’t really looked at me all this time?” Feng Xue grumbled inwardly but answered honestly, “Yes, I’m traveling. I heard that Doctor Lan’s family has a tradition…”

“Stop!” Doctor Lan immediately straightened her face.

“Judging by you, I thought you’d had a higher education, but you actually believe that? I studied modern medicine. Whether Chinese or Western, it’s all medical skill, not some divine elixir gifted by immortals!”

At this, Doctor Lan took a deep breath, as if suppressing some emotion, then said:

“Anyway, I’m a doctor; I shouldn’t say that. Tell me, what’s the problem?”

“I only have nine years left to live.”

Feng Xue spoke frankly, not caring much about Doctor Lan’s inner feelings. However, this statement left Doctor Lan perplexed; she had seen patients claiming imminent death before, but never one so precise about nine years out.

“So specific?” Doctor Lan’s previously casual demeanor vanished suddenly, and only then did Feng Xue truly feel she was speaking to a real doctor.

“Yes, my condition is like a curse. If you insist you only know medical skill, then I’ll have to try somewhere else.”

Feng Xue didn’t want to beat around the bush and spoke straightforwardly.

Doctor Lan was silent for a moment but finally nodded toward the pulse pillow on the desk:

“Let me check first.”

The room fell quiet, save for soft breathing and heartbeats. Feng Xue was about to switch to an over-the-shoulder perspective to see if anything unusual appeared when suddenly, her finger twitched.

No, not her index finger, but—

Her ring.

The little white snake!

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“Interesting!”

Opening her over-the-shoulder view, Feng Xue slowly rotated her vision and noticed Doctor Lan’s one hand checking her pulse while her toes tapped lightly at a frequency like pressing an electric switch. Then she saw her left hand, seemingly resting aside, was forming some kind of mystical hand sign.

“Wow, and you say you studied modern medicine?”

Feng Xue silently scoffed, but then she noticed a faint glow surrounding Doctor Lan’s body—an aura invisible to normal vision.

That glow gradually enveloped Doctor Lan entirely. Her usually ordinary features suddenly took on an ethereal quality.

“Such powerful sorcery!”

The voice Feng Xue heard was still Doctor Lan’s, but the tone seemed different. The ethereal eyes swept over Feng Xue, pausing briefly on the ring shaped like a small white snake, then said:

“You carry two types of curses—both life-shortening spells. But… did you deliberately infect yourself with the latter?”

“An expert!” Feng Xue’s heart leapt with hope.

“Yes, when I was cursed, I had no choice but to try everything in desperation…”

“I can tell. But it’s a lucky accident,” Doctor Lan nodded, her tone tinged with an old and commanding air.

“Both curses are powerful, but for some reason—perhaps the caster is dead—they’ve become rootless and drifting. I can help you dispel them, but I cannot restore the life already lost.”

Feng Xue’s newly kindled hope was doused with cold water. Yet compared to the despair she felt earlier—only sixty days of life left and no way out—this disappointment was minor.

Still, considering the doctor was unlikely to speak without reason, Feng Xue pressed:

“Then what’s the difference between removing the curse and not?”

Doctor Lan’s eyes gleamed playfully:

“The difference is, if you don’t remove the curse, no matter how much you nourish yourself, you’ll only live nine years—no more, no less. If you remove it, you can extend your life through proper care.”