Chapter 16: Stirring Up Trouble Again

Zhang Wenyue’s eyes went wide with shock; she had never expected to walk in on such an intense scene the moment she entered.
“What are you doing in here? Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me while I was treating him?”
Ye Cheng felt a wave of exasperation, especially seeing the way Zhang Wenyue looked at him, as if she were witnessing something between close male friends.
This girl… could she really be thinking along those lines?
“Ah, sorry, sorry! You two go on, please, don’t mind me, heh heh…”
Zhang Wenyue let out an awkward laugh, but Ye Cheng interrupted her with a shake of his head.
“That won’t be necessary. Old man, try getting up and see for yourself.”
Ye Cheng slapped his palm down on the acupoint he had just been massaging. The strike, brimming with spiritual energy, instantly unblocked all the meridians in Zhang Quan’s body. With a start, Zhang Quan sat upright, his hands trembling as he felt the scar on his chest—the very mark left by the Frost Palm all those years ago.
But now, astonishingly, the mark of that humiliating blow was gone!
“Miracle doctor… a miracle doctor!”
Zhang Quan stood up, overwhelmed with excitement. The cold energy that had tormented him for years, haunting him night and day with fear, had finally been eradicated, once and for all!
“Grandpa! You’re cured!”
Zhang Wenyue ran to Zhang Quan’s side, her eyes now shining with adoration as she gazed at Ye Cheng.
“I didn’t think you really had some tricks up your sleeve!”
She patted Ye Cheng on the shoulder, then winked playfully.
Ye Cheng: …
“Young Master Ye, may I ask, what medicine did you just use? And what was that technique? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“The pill was just a basic Vital Yang Pill. As for the technique…”
“It was nothing but Pure Yang Palm.”
“What?!”
Zhang Quan’s tiger-like eyes grew round with shock; he stared at Ye Cheng as if struck dumb, as though he had just swallowed something foul.
Nothing but Pure Yang Palm? Nothing but?!
Pure Yang Palm was one of the highest-level, long-lost arts of the Ancient Medicine School—one of the legendary Nine Heavenly Healer’s Arts, ranked with the Thirteen Needles of Reawakening and seven other supreme techniques. These were the crowning jewels of medical civilization, passed down by the greatest doctors of the Summer Nation over a thousand years.
Regrettably, all nine techniques had been lost to history, which is why traditional medicine was so little regarded by the masses nowadays. These ancestral treasures had not been inherited, leaving the field overshadowed by Western medicine.
Yet this Young Master Ye… not only did he know the Thirteen Needles of Reawakening, but also the Pure Yang Palm?!

A terrifying thought suddenly occurred to Zhang Quan.
Could it be… could he possibly have mastered all seven other supreme arts as well?
He quickly shook his head, casting aside such an unrealistic notion.
Impossible. If someone truly mastered all Nine Heavenly Healer’s Arts, the medical world would have long since built statues in their honor for all to worship!
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”
Ye Cheng glanced calmly at his parents, finding that their conditions had improved considerably; a final session of acupoint massage would suffice for a complete recovery.
“Alright, very good!”
Zhang Quan was no fool. It was clear Ye Cheng was hinting that he should handle the aftermath of that young master from the Lu family’s demise—a perfect opportunity to curry favor with a man of such stature!
“Young Master Ye, please wait a moment. I’ll go out and speak with those people, and when everything is settled, I’ll come back to invite you out.”
Zhang Quan’s attitude was now the epitome of reverence, terrified of making the slightest misstep and displeasing his savior.
“Mm.”
Ye Cheng’s impression of Zhang Quan improved. The old man was vain, but smart—dealing with clever people was always more pleasant.
Without another word, Ye Cheng nodded slightly, then walked over to his sister and began massaging their parents’ acupoints, unblocking their meridians.
“Xiao Cheng, so you’ve been studying medicine all these years?”
Once the others had left, Ye Mengxue immediately gathered close, looking at her brother with the adoration of a fan.
Over the past two days, Ye Cheng’s display of martial prowess and miraculous medical skills had pushed her curiosity to its peak.
What kind of fortune could transform her ordinary college-student brother into a master of medicine whose every gesture exuded the aura of a true expert?
Before Ye Cheng could reply, a deep male voice reached the siblings’ ears.
“So, you’re Ye Cheng?”
Ye Cheng turned, puzzled, to see a middle-aged man he’d never met before. The man’s brows were furrowed with a murderous air—clearly no ordinary person—and his hands had surely been stained with the blood of many.
Late-stage Postnatal Mystical Realm, he mused—not bad, a bit more promising than that old Zhang Quan. At least, he was close to advancing to the Innate Realm in middle age.
Still, even so, he was nothing more than a slightly larger ant.
And Ye Cheng had never provoked a man like this.
“Sorry about this, kid.”
The man let out a cold laugh, and a short blade hidden up his sleeve flickered into view.

“Someone has paid for your life.”
“In your next life, remember not to offend those you shouldn’t.”
Those he shouldn’t offend?
Ye Cheng’s brows knit together.
“Did the Wang family send you here to avenge that young master?”
“The dead don’t need to know so much.”
The man raised his head with a look of contempt.
He was confused himself. When Wang Long, the boss of the Wang family, called him, he’d mentioned the target was an internal martial arts expert who had single-handedly killed over thirty strong men on the spot.
Even more curious, that Zhao Wuji who ran a martial arts school in Jiang City had bowed and scraped before this person—enough to spark Zhou Qi’s competitive instincts, being a Mystical Realm martial artist himself.
He wanted to see what kind of monster could scare a hardened man like Wang Long, who’d weathered forty years of storms.
But now that he saw him, this so-called internal master, this peerless figure, was nothing more than a young doctor massaging an old man’s back?
At first glance, Zhou Qi lost all interest in Ye Cheng, cursing Wang Long silently.
Damn it, sending a top assassin of the Dragon Tiger Hall like me to deal with a snot-nosed brat? What a waste of my time!
Seeing Ye Cheng remain silent, Zhou Qi assumed he had resigned himself to fate—after all, anyone would be terrified to resist someone with such a murderous aura.
“Enough, I don’t have time for this. In your next life, try to be a decent person and don’t cross the powerful.”
With a flourish, Zhou Qi revealed the short blade from his sleeve, his lips curling with confidence.
In all his years in the jianghu, these twin blades had claimed the lives of countless martial artists—including several careless Earth Realm experts. None had lasted a minute against his knives.
“I’ll give you one last chance to live.”
“Tell me who’s behind this, and deliver a message to him for me.”
Ye Cheng finished massaging the last acupoint and slowly rose to his feet. Spiritual energy surged from his body like a breached dam, instantly flooding the entire hospital room.
“If you dare provoke me again, I will leave not a single participant alive!”