Chapter 032: The Title of Divine Healer

“That’s true. Still, I’d like to see the commotion for myself—let’s see which group dares to cross the disciples of the Hundred Flowers Ravine,” Zhang Hengyuan nodded in agreement.

“The ones clashing most fiercely with them lately are the Grey Robe Gang. Not long ago, the Hundred Flowers Ravine disciples killed several of their elites. Now it seems the Grey Robe Gang is out for revenge,” Li Changlin said, well-informed about the goings-on around Qingyang County.

“The Grey Robe Gang has already sided with the Xia Kingdom. Are they stirring up trouble at our Wu Dynasty’s borders on purpose? By the way, has the magistrate’s office managed to track down any disciples of the Five Poisons Sect?” Zhang Hengyuan asked.

“We’ve sent word out, but haven’t found them yet. Still, there should be results within three days,” Li Changlin replied. At that moment, the steward appeared at the door.

“My lord, I’ll take my leave. It seems the steward has business with you,” Zhang Hengyuan said, rising and excusing himself.

“What’s the matter?” Li Changlin asked after seeing Zhang Hengyuan out.

“Sir, just now a rascal came to the gate, shouting that he had news of a miracle doctor and wanted a reward. He handed this over,” the steward said, passing Li Changlin a notice written by Fang Xian.

“A miracle doctor, claiming he can cure all manner of difficult illnesses—these wandering quacks really dare say anything. Hm. Here’s what you’ll do: send someone to invite this so-called miracle doctor here. Tell him that if he can cure the madam, he’ll be handsomely rewarded. But if he’s just boasting, he’ll have his hide flayed.” Li Changlin snorted in disdain, but after taking a few steps, he paused, turned, and issued the order.

When the steward sent by the magistrate’s residence arrived at the Fortune Inn, he found a crowd already gathered outside—most of them, it seemed, just there to watch the spectacle.

“What’s going on inside? Has anyone gone in to see the doctor yet?” the steward asked a bystander.

“Not yet, I think. Some patients have arrived, but none have gone inside so far,” the man replied, pointing across the street. The steward looked and saw several patients being carried, supported, or led over from across the way, but for some reason, they were all waiting and not entering.

“Clear the way, everyone! By order of the magistrate, I am here to invite the miracle doctor to treat the magistrate’s lady. His lordship says there will be a heavy reward if she is cured; if not, he’ll have the doctor’s skin!” Seizing the chance to show off, the steward shouted to the crowd.

“What? Even the magistrate is here to invite the miracle doctor to treat his wife?”

“Hurry, let’s go! If the magistrate takes him away, we’ll lose our chance!”

At the steward’s words, those waiting across the street gasped and rushed over, bringing their patients and storming into the inn to be first.

“Those here to see the miracle doctor, please head to the back courtyard.” The inn’s attendant, having received a tip from Fang Xian, stood by the entrance directing the patients.

“Miracle doctor, please save my father!”

“Have mercy, miracle doctor, please check my son!”

“Help us, miracle doctor!”

A throng of people burst in and knelt in Fang Xian’s courtyard, crying out. Fang Xian stepped out and beckoned them to rise. “Please, everyone, there’s no need to kneel. I, Fang Xian, a humble healer, am passing through today and wish to build good karma with all of you. Line up, and come in one by one.”

He showed himself briefly, then had Da Niu and others help organize the line, instructing them to give priority to patients in critical condition, before returning indoors, where his table was set with medical tools and writing materials.

Fang Xian then fully demonstrated his miraculous skills. No matter the ailment, no matter whether the patient was carried, supported, or cradled in, they all walked out on their own—some with help, but all visibly improved.

He had discovered back in the mountain stronghold that the mysterious energy within him greatly aided his healing—whether diagnosing, relieving pain, or rapidly treating various illnesses, the results were remarkable.

Though his stores of this energy were limited, he could replenish it constantly through cultivation, giving him impressive stamina—far beyond any so-called “seven times a night” prodigy.

Of course, some illnesses he cured at once; others he merely stabilized, prescribing herbal remedies for continued recovery at home. With proper care, even these patients could regain their health.

“I don’t charge a fee, but you must tell ten of your neighbors about my skills, so more people in need can come. That is my only requirement,” Fang Xian told his poorer patients, judging by their clothes, accepting no payment but encouraging them to spread the word.

“Thank you, miracle doctor!” Grateful patients and their families knelt to express their thanks as they left.

“Hey, wasn’t that patient carried in just now? Now he’s walking out on his own? This doctor is incredible!” As the first patient exited, onlookers crowded around in excitement.

“Old Six, is the miracle doctor real? Can he actually heal?”

“Miracle Doctor Fang Xian’s skill is unmatched. My father can walk on his own now. Please, step aside— we need to get his medicine. If any of you have sick family, you can trust Miracle Doctor Fang Xian!” Old Six shouted, parting the crowd and hurrying to the pharmacy with his father.

“Are you sure they aren’t just plants? No one gets better that fast,” someone in the crowd doubted.

“Nonsense! Old Six’s father has been bedridden three years—I live next door, I’d know. This just proves Miracle Doctor Fang Xian’s skill is genuine. See for yourselves,” another retorted.

Sure enough, more and more patients emerged, their faces and those of their families shining with joy, all praising Fang Xian’s miraculous healing, claiming he could cure any illness.

Seeing this, those still watching outside rushed in as well. The magistrate’s steward grew anxious—with so many people waiting, when would he ever manage to invite the doctor to the magistrate’s residence?

He hurried in with his men, only to find the courtyard lined with patients, a few martial artists organizing the queue.

“Brother, I am the steward of the magistrate’s residence. By order of his lordship, I’ve come to invite the miracle doctor to treat the lady. Please announce me,” he said to Da Niu.

“Our master has given strict instructions: every patient must come in person to be treated. He will not make house calls for anyone, not even the magistrate,” Da Niu replied firmly.

“Brother, I am the steward of the Shen family, the wealthiest household in Qingyang. My master wishes to invite the miracle doctor to our home and is willing to pay ten thousand taels of silver as a consultation fee,” another elderly steward pushed forward.

“Please bring your patient here. Our master does not make house calls, not even for the magistrate’s family,” Da Niu refused again.

Both stewards pleaded and even tried to bribe Da Niu—a banknote for a hundred taels was presented—but he refused, handling matters strictly as instructed, telling them to report back to their masters. The two could only leave, crestfallen.

While they argued, Fang Xian had already seen another two or three patients; whatever their illness, they were all much improved upon leaving—only rest and recovery remained.

All those treated, along with their families, dutifully spread word of Fang Xian’s skill and kindness to their ten neighbors, as he’d asked, and soon his name was on the lips of every city dweller.

As Fang Xian healed and treated his patients, he found his cultivation progressing even faster, generating more mysterious energy, which he both absorbed for himself and used to cure the sick.