Chapter 231: The Savior

"What's wrong!"

The middle-aged woman slammed the bedroom door open, her face full of terror, nearly falling to the floor.

When she saw her son standing alone in front of the mirror, his face full of fear and his whole body trembling, she burst into tears and pulled her fear-dominated son into her arms.

A mother's embrace was very warm; it seemed to drive away that little girl wearing red clothes. Even from the perspective of an onlooker, Ji Xiang felt the warmth.

"Mom," "himself" said, choking back sobs.

"It's okay, it's okay, let's go find a doctor to treat the illness."

Ji Xiang had just relaxed a little, but the moment he heard the word "doctor," he instantly sobered up.

That's not right. This is Empathy; there is no reason for the System NPC to arrange a nonsensical, horror-filled, and terrifying experience.

How could a serious medical system have ghosts in it!

However.

Ji Xiang searched through all his memories in his mind, but couldn't find out what illness "himself" had.

The vision in his left eye was slightly better; things didn't look as blurry as before, as if the little girl in red had already taken her hand away.

The sky began to brighten, and the middle-aged woman began to struggle with a dilemma.

Ji Xiang knew what she was struggling with, but Ji Xiang himself didn't know what the right thing to do was either.

A helpless doctor, the master with a transcendent air who had been scratched, the little girl sitting behind him in the middle of the night blowing on his neck...

Everything was completely out of place yet felt like a matter of course. Ji Xiang thought in a daze, but had no clue at all.

It wasn't until the middle-aged woman took him to the hospital and, after much pleading, completed the admission procedures in the Orthopedics Department that he felt a bit clearer.

Orthopedics, Sports Medicine; it seemed related to the weakness in the left limbs, so staying here was the only option.

Ji Xiang witnessed the entire hospitalization process; the middle-aged woman begged the doctor, adamantly refusing to stay in the Neurology and Neurosurgery Department.

Neurology, Spirit; ordinary people often confuse these two terms. Ji Xiang knew she was worried that the department name would cause "himself" another injury.

Admitted, examined; "himself" lay on the hospital bed, but that little girl in red hadn't left; instead, she played games tirelessly.

Patients in the same ward were scared and complained to the doctor, and in the end, one by one, they moved out.

A large Grade A Tertiary Hospital was overcrowded, yet the ward of "himself" was surprisingly deserted.

The number of people didn't seem to have anything to do with the frequency of the little girl in red's visits; it was just that she came more and more frequently, and every time she said more and more.

This kind of life couldn't go on. For the first time, Ji Xiang urgently wanted to go back.

Ji Xiang even had a feeling—that even the pain of Urological Calculus would be lighter than this kind of torture.

But the System NPC did not summon Ji Xiang back, instead leaving him here to accompany the Patient through these inhuman experiences.

A few days later.

There was a commotion outside the door. The door was pushed open, and the person who opened it respectfully invited an old man with a transcendent air to enter.

After entering, he glanced at "himself" and sighed, "This is troublesome now."

"Master, what's wrong!" the middle-aged woman asked, her face pale and haggard, filled with worry.

"The monster is growing too fast." The old man with a transcendent air frowned, staring at "himself," "Let's try it. Since you have sincerity, I cannot refuse you, but this time I cannot guarantee whether it will work or not."

"Master, I beg you, you must save my son." The mother pleaded.

"Trying is not enough; the Talisman passed down by my sect are few, all drawn by hand by immortal masters from hundreds of years ago..." the old man with a transcendent air said, drawing out a long tail note.

A thick envelope was handed to the young man behind him.

"It would have been better if we had done this a few days earlier, sigh." Although the old man with a transcendent air had taken the money, he still didn't give a definite answer, sighing with a face full of sorrow, "This old man can only do his best. Everything is fate; nothing is up to us. Don't think too much about changing one's destiny against the heavens."

"Sword, come!"

The old man with a transcendent air reached out, and a Peach Wood Sword was handed into his hand.

"What are you doing."

A familiar voice came.

Ji Xiang's attention was entirely on the old man's charlatanry, and he hadn't noticed someone coming in.

Hearing the familiar voice, Ji Xiang felt like a drowning person who had grabbed the last straw.

It was Zhou Congwen, Zhou Jiaoshou!

Ji Xiang felt as if he had met a savior.

"Playing the charlatan, get out of here immediately." Zhou Jiaoshou glanced at the old man with a transcendent air and said with disdain.

"How are you talking to my master." Someone scolded.

"Get out, get out, get out." Zhou Jiaoshou waved his hand, "This is a hospital. I can't control you making a scene outside, but if you make a scene here, do you believe you'll be in big trouble?"

"You..."

Someone was about to retort, but the old man with a transcendent air directly cowered, "Zhou Jiaoshou, look at you, we are all old acquaintances, why be like this. I am also doing this for the child; if I had known you were coming, I wouldn't have come."

"Heh, so it's my fault?" Zhou Jiaoshou squinted at the old man.

"Didn't you go to Europe for a conference?" the old man asked, lowering his head and looking submissive.

"I just got off the plane and saw you here acting like a demon; your master's coffin lid can't even hold him down. Tell me, did you use cement to seal the coffin lid? Otherwise, your master would have already jumped out and slapped you."

As Zhou Jiaoshou spoke, he walked in front of "himself," and Ji Xiang almost cried.

He was like a beam of light, tearing through the boundless darkness, letting himself see hope.

"Don't be nervous, I'm here," Zhou Jiaoshou said gently, "Where is it uncomfortable?"

"Himself" was a bit dazed, but subconsciously answered Zhou Jiaoshou's question.

After a series of physical examinations, Zhou Jiaoshou took "himself" to the Treatment Room for a biopsy, and only then said, "It's nothing major. It was discovered early; just treat the symptoms."

"Is it an illness?" "Himself" asked suspiciously.

"Of course, Temporal Arteritis, not a very common autoimmune disease; you need to go to the Rheumatology and Immunology Department for a consultation," Zhou Jiaoshou smiled, "Transfer departments first, take the medication, and it should get better soon."

Temporal Arteritis...

After hearing this diagnosis, Ji Xiang tried hard to recall it, and only after a long time did he vaguely remember that some symptoms of Temporal Arteritis seemed to correspond to the Patient's condition, appearing somewhat similar.

But if he had to make the diagnosis himself, he would absolutely never have thought of this disease.

It seems he still needs to continue working hard on diagnostics.

Zhou Jiaoshou was very kind; he explained tirelessly to "himself" why the feeling of heavy shoulders and the sensation of cold wind blowing would occur, and even explained the small hand covering his eyes clearly and thoroughly.

These are all Clinical symptoms of Temporal Arteritis: local blood supply insufficiency, shoulder weakness, and lowered temperature, which in severe cases lead to blindness. But blindness does not come all at once; rather, it is a slow, gradual loss of vision.

So that was it; "he" didn't understand, but Ji Xiang understood.

"Use steroid pulse therapy; it will be effective in 3 days." Zhou Jiaoshou smiled, like a spring breeze.

Light and shadow flickered, and Ji Xiang returned to the System Operating Room.

(End of this chapter)