Chapter 89: The Alchemist

Meanwhile, in the Xinglin Clinic, Master Feng had just finished seeing a patient and sat in the hall sipping tea.

Several cultivators entered, bowed to Master Feng, and spoke respectfully: "One of our clan members is severely injured; we humbly beg Master Feng to lend your aid."

Master Feng glanced at their pale yellow robes embroidered with gold thread. "From the Qian family?"

"Yes."

"How severe is the injury?"

One Qian cultivator hesitated, then said: "It appears he was injured by powerful fire-elemental spiritual energy—his flesh and muscle are charred black, his meridians damaged, his breath faint…"

Master Feng frowned. "So serious?"

"Our clan has summoned several Alchemists to treat him, but they argue among themselves and cannot agree, so we ask Master Feng to take a look. In Tongxian City, your alchemical medical skill is unmatched."

"You flatter me," Master Feng said. "No time to waste—I'll gather my things and go."

Master Feng practiced alchemy to heal, regardless of status, wealth, or poverty—whether a lone cultivator or a clan member, if true hardship existed, he would generally offer aid.

The Qian cultivators bowed again, respectfully: "Thank you, Master Feng."

Master Feng selected several medicinal herbs, several vials of pills, and a few alchemical texts, gave brief instructions to his apprentices, and followed the cultivators to the Qian residence.

Only upon arriving at the Qian residence did he learn the patient was Qian Xing. Master Feng frowned, a hint of displeasure rising.

He had heard of Qian Xing's conduct—abusing power, bullying others, countless acts of tyranny.

Yet he considered: these were only rumors; he had never seen them with his own eyes, so they might not be true. And though Qian Xing was unruly, he had never heard of him committing any truly heinous deeds—he could not refuse to save a life merely on suspicion.

The Qian household was shrouded in gloom; several female relatives wept, and several elders wore solemn expressions.

Master Feng sighed. As long as a cultivator had not ascended to immortality, he remained human—subject to birth, aging, sickness, and death. Though he had seen such scenes many times, compassion still stirred within him—he would heal if he could.

Master Feng entered the room to examine Qian Xing's injuries, then conferred with the other Alchemists on treatment methods.

One Alchemist said: "Young Master Qian's injuries are too severe—he requires gentle nourishment. Use wood-elemental spiritual items combined with pills to slowly replenish his flesh and blood, allowing gradual recovery…"

Another Alchemist disagreed: "Gentle nourishment cannot cure the root. He was injured by fire-elemental spiritual energy—residual energy lingers in his body, forming fire poison. If not fully purged, it will damage his meridians and qi sea, causing endless future harm…"

"How would you purge it?"

"Use Tianyuan Water, aided by Water Spirit Pills—balance fire and water, completely eliminate the fire poison. Once gone, the damaged meridians and flesh will naturally heal…"

"Balancing fire and water is too violent! Before the fire poison is removed, Young Master Qian may be dead!"

…

The Alchemists argued endlessly, each clinging to their own view, none able to convince the others.

Master Feng coughed once, and the Alchemists fell silent.

Master Feng had healed and saved lives in Tongxian City for over a hundred years. Though he appeared powerless and without influence, his prestige was immense.

Cultivators in Tongxian City—even those never treated by Master Feng—had relatives, friends, or kin who had received his aid. And the Dao was unfathomable; none could guarantee they would never need his help in the future.

The Alchemists present all knew Master Feng's character and held him in deep respect. Several of them, before achieving grade not yet determined, had even visited him specifically to seek his guidance.

At Master Feng's cough, the Alchemists fell silent, standing obediently to listen.

"The fire poison must be purged…" Master Feng affirmed first. The Alchemist who advocated purging it showed relief.

"But Tianyuan Water cannot be used—it's too violent…"

"Master's words are most correct," the Alchemist replied respectfully.

"Gentle nourishment is acceptable, but not too mild—otherwise, you're merely nurturing the poison…" Master Feng turned to the other Alchemist, then listed several spiritual herbs and pills, analyzed the injury in detail, explained how to apply the medicine, the proper dosage, and how to adjust the pill quantity according to symptom severity…

Finally, Master Feng said: "Alchemical art requires mutual exchange and debate. Having your own ideas is good, but don't stubbornly cling to them and refuse to yield."

The Alchemists nodded in agreement.

After speaking, Master Feng sat aside and drank tea.

The other Alchemists whispered among themselves—the treatment direction was clear, but the exact pills to use and herbs to refine still needed discussion and deliberation; they could not finalize anything immediately.

Master Feng sipped his tea, then suddenly asked: "By the way, why did Qian Xing sustain such severe injuries?"

The Alchemists paused their chatter, unsure what to say—it was not a pleasant matter, and this was the Qian household; speaking openly would be inappropriate.

One Alchemist, seeing no Qian family members nearby, whispered: "I heard Young Master Qian abused his power and was beaten in return."

Master Feng frowned.

"Not beaten," another Alchemist said. "He used a newly learned technique to attack someone, but his skill was insufficient—the technique backfired, leaving him like this…"

"Nonsense! Can a technique backlash cause injuries like this?" another Alchemist retorted.

"Technique backlash injuries originate from within outward. His injuries are clearly from outside inward."

"Correct—it must be a fire-elemental technique ambush."

"Doesn't a technique require time to form? Several breaths' time is more than enough to dodge. Is Young Master Qian an idiot, standing still to be struck?"

"How do you know he's not an idiot?"

"Perhaps he was careless and didn't dodge…"

"You're all wrong—it must be a fire-elemental talisman, and a costly one, single-use at that…"

…

The Alchemists chatted eagerly.

Discussing how to use pills to heal required deep thought and mental strain—it was exhausting. But gossip? That sparked far greater interest.

Master Feng was speechless. He asked again: "Who did he bully?"

"It seems he bullied a child? A cultivator saw it and intervened—the two sides fought, and it got quite loud. Though the world's morals have declined, there are still cultivators brave enough to stand for justice."

Master Feng's suspicions formed; his expression grew cold. "Do you know who the child was?"

"I'm not certain—I only heard the cultivator who intervened was a disciple from Master Chen's forging workshop. The bullied child… seemed to be surnamed Mo…"

Master Feng set down his teacup, rose, swept his sleeve, and walked out.

"Master Feng…" The Alchemists hurriedly rose and chased after him.

The Qian family, seeing this, also rushed after him, urgently calling: "Master, where are you going?"

"Go back!"

"Young Master An's injuries are severe—we're counting on you to heal him…"

"I won't treat him!" Mr. Feng said firmly.

"This… you…" Several Qian family disciples were at a loss.

A Qian family elder, his aura deep and his nasolabial lines heavy, blocked Mr. Feng's path. "Mr. Feng, please return. Heal Young Master An, and our clan head will not let you go unrewarded!"

He's a Foundation Establishment cultivator!

Several alchemists were slightly startled, glancing at each other in silence.

Mr. Feng glanced at the Qian family elder. "Are you teaching me how to do my job?"

"I dare not. Please, Master, save Young Master An," the Qian family elder bowed.

Mr. Feng snorted coldly. "I've spent my life refining pills and curing illness to save lives, not to commit sins. What kind of man is your Young Master? Does he even deserve my help?"

The Qian family elder was left speechless. He knew full well what kind of man Young Master An was—and he knew that, once Mr. Feng learned the truth, he would never lift a finger to help.

Mr. Feng's face was as cold as water. "Will you step aside?"

Though the Qian family elder was a Foundation Establishment cultivator, being stared at by Mr. Feng—a Qi Condensation ninth-layer cultivator—made him inexplicably uneasy. After much hesitation, he silently stepped back.

Mr. Feng swept his sleeves and walked out of the Qian residence. Several alchemists, seeing this, took the opportunity to take their leave. The few who dared not offend the Qian family had no choice but to grit their teeth and stay.

One Qian family disciple said to the Qian family elder: "Elder, why didn't you stop Mr. Feng…?"

The Qian family elder glared at him. "How could I stop him? My father's life was saved by this old man. How could I possibly have the face to block him? He's not even yelling at me—that's already giving me face!"