Chapter 683: Mysterious Black Shadow

Ge Xuanzhen stood There, his graying beard trembling slightly with anger, and his wrinkle‑filled eyes widened like copper bells.

He looked at Jiang Feng, then glanced at the basin of clear water that Song Dianjun had brought in, the cold smile at the corner of his mouth stretching almost to his ears.

"A basin of clear water? Kid, do you even know what you're talking about? The Prince's wound isn't an ordinary knife cut; the blade is poisoned. Old brother has practiced medicine for most of his life and can see at a glance how dangerous that poison is. You use a basin of clear water? You're playing with the Prince's life!"

The two elders behind him also shook their heads; though they said nothing, their faces were full of contempt.

Song Dianjun stood nearby, still holding the basin of water, glanced at Jiang Feng, then at Ge Xuanzhen, his lips moving as if to offer Jiang Feng an explanation, but in the end he said nothing.

He was indeed stunned as well.

He knew Jiang Feng's medical skill was superb, but what could a basin of clear water do?

He had seen the Prince's three knife wounds with his own eyes; the cuts were deep enough to expose bone, and the black veins seemed alive, continuously spreading outward.

Even Ge Lao's family methods, honed over decades, could only barely suppress them; what effect could a basin of water have?

His gaze swept back and forth between Jiang Feng and the basin of water twice, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

Jiang Feng was too lazy to explain.

He simply turned his head, gave Song Dianjun a glance, his eyes flat and indifferent.

Song Dianjun shivered from that glance, snapped back to his senses, dared not think further, hurriedly carried the basin to Jiang Feng's side, placed it on the low table beside the soft couch, then stepped back half a step and stood firm.

Ge Xuanzhen let out a cold snort, shook the powder in his hand into the copper basin, swung his sleeve forcefully, and pulled the other two elders back half a step.

His voice carried a tone of certainty.

"Even if you let him act! Old brother wants to see how he can revive the Prince with just a basin of water!"

He paused, his gaze turning to Song Dianjun, his tone becoming even harsher.

"Commander Song, if anything happens to the Prince, Old brother will report directly to Kyoto! Report to the Emperor!"

Song Dianjun neither looked at him nor replied.

His gaze, unblinking, fixed on Jiang Feng's hand.

Jiang Feng stood at the edge of the soft couch, lowered his head and stared at the basin of clear water.

The water in the basin was so clear, pristine as if nothing had ever been placed in it, allowing the pale‑blue porcelain bottom to be seen distinctly.

He raised his right hand, palm down, fingers slightly spread, hovering above the water's surface, then casually flicked a finger. The water in the basin rippled.

The stream rose from the basin, like a silver ribbon lifted by an invisible hand, twisting in the air, slowly converging above Jiang Feng's palm, coalescing into a water sphere the size of a fist.

The water sphere refracted tiny sparks of light under the lamp, resembling a plucked moon, floating in mid‑air and turning slowly.

Ge Xuanzhen's eyes narrowed slightly.

He recognized the underlying method: external qi, using qi to control matter—a cultivator.

To achieve this, one must at least be in the Grandmaster Realm; in their era, that already marked a rare genius.

But to say what effect such a method could have in the Medical Dao…

He still did not believe it.

Jiang Feng did not look at anyone's expression.

He guided the water sphere to hover above the Jiangnan Wang's chest wound, less than two inches from the gauze, then slowly released his fingers.

The sphere seemed drawn by something, descending slowly, adhering to the gauze's surface, seeping along the blood‑streaked patterns into the fabric's gaps.

The flow was sluggish, as if guided by an unseen force, threading through every warp and weft of the gauze, slowly permeating the wound's surface.

The Jiangnan Wang's body tensed sharply, and a suppressed, muffled hum rose from his throat, as if something forced it out from deep within.

His brows knit into a knot, his lips pressed into a pale line from pain, his whole form like a drawn bow, muscles trembling. Then the flow began to change color.

The water, once crystal clear, turned visibly murky at the point of contact, then gray, then dark, finally becoming a thick, ink‑like black.

The black liquid slid down his skin, gathering into droplets at the gauze's edge, each drop falling into the nearby copper basin that Song Dianjun had not yet removed, sending a dark ripple across the water's surface.

Then the second drop, the third, and countless fine black droplets, as if squeezed out from deep within the wound, streamed down continuously.

When those black droplets hit the copper basin, the surface emitted an extremely faint sizzle, releasing a barely visible wisp of heat, as if touched by something corrosive.

The water in the copper basin, originally fairly clear, turned turbid and black within a few breaths, like an ink pool stirred.

Ge Xuanzhen's eyes bulged as if they would pop out of their sockets.

His mouth was open, the beard on his chin trembling slightly, and the finger he had raised toward Jiang Feng froze mid‑air, as if paused.

He watched the ever‑increasing black liquid in the copper basin, then glanced at the Jiangnan Wang's face where a trace of blood‑color was visibly returning, and something seemed to explode in his mind.

He had practiced medicine for over forty years, yet had never seen anyone force toxins out of a deep wound with just a basin of clear water.

The toxins had clearly seeped into flesh and bone, adhering to sinews; ordinarily they could only be dissolved gradually with medicine, or sealed path by path with Golden Needles.

But the young man before them, using only a basin of water, forced the poison out?

"This…"

Ge Xuanzhen's voice seemed blocked by something.

"How could this be possible?"

The two elders behind him were also dumbfounded, staring at each other; no one could utter a single word to explain what they were witnessing.

Jiang Feng still did not look at them.

His gaze fell on the now‑black water sphere; the once‑clear liquid had become a thick black, like old ink that had solidified for too long.

He flicked it casually; the sphere left his palm, fell into the adjacent copper basin, and sank heavily to the bottom.

The sphere dispersed, revealing the Jiangnan Wang's chest wound.

The fresh blood had ceased flowing, and even the Jiangnan Wang's breathing began to steady.

Jiang Feng straightened, casually wiping his water‑soaked hand on the hem of his robe.

"The poison in the wound has been largely cleared; replace with fresh gauze. His constitution is good, a few days of rest and he'll awaken."

As soon as those words left his mouth, Ge Xuanzhen and the two remaining physicians jerked their heads up together, their expressions terrified as they stared at Jiang Feng.

Now, they had to concede that Jiang Feng's medical skill far exceeded the limits they had imagined.

"Mr. Jiang…"

Ge Xuan forced himself, just about to say something.

But Jiang Feng's gaze cooled slightly, and then he instantly flashed away, disappearing inside the house.

At this moment, outside the house.

A ghostly figure clung to the wall; just as it was about to move, Jiang Feng gently appeared behind it.

"Fine, you've already stabbed him three times; the great grudge should be over now."