Chapter 93: Undercurrents Surge

"Doctor Zhang, are you alright?" Su Muqing said with a hint of anxiety, "I heard there was some commotion in the outskirts last night; I was worried something might have happened to you."

Zhang Jun'an reassured her with a few words, and Su Muqing finally relaxed, then shifted the topic: "By the way, our company has run into some trouble again. Recently someone has been secretly buying up our shares using shady means. I suspect someone behind the scenes is up to something."

Zhang Jun frowned: "Have you found out who it is?"

"Still under investigation." Su Muqing sighed, "But I have a feeling this isn't that simple. Be extra careful."

After hanging up, Zhang Jun fell into thought. Lin Xue handed him a cup of hot tea and said softly, "Business is like a battlefield; you need to be careful."

Zhang Jun nodded, about to speak, when the clinic door was gently pushed open. A plainly dressed but extraordinary old man walked in.

"Excuse me, is Doctor Zhang in?" the old man asked, his eyes sharp and voice loud.

Zhang Jun rose: "That's me. What brings you here, sir?"

The old man smiled: "An old friend introduced me. I've heard Doctor Zhang's medical skills are superb, so this old bones came to seek your advice."

Zhang Jun gestured for the old man to sit and began to take his pulse. But soon, Zhang Jun's expression turned grave.

The old man's internal breath was chaotic, his meridians hiding an extremely overbearing force, like an old injury forcibly suppressed. What surprised Zhang Jun even more was that within this force he sensed a familiar aura—similar to the energy on Kun, yet gentler and more restrained.

"Sir, this injury—" Zhang Jun began, but his pupils suddenly contracted.

Only see the old man's eyes flash with a sharp light, the corner of his mouth curling into a meaningful smile: "Young friend, it seems you've noticed. Then let's talk about that secret on the snow mountain."

Alarm bells rang in Zhang Jun's mind; he instinctively glanced at Lin Xue. Lin Xue, too, wore a wary expression and slowly rose to her feet.

The air suddenly turned viscous, as if congealing.

In Mo Tianhe's eyes, weathered by wind and frost, a sharp gleam flashed. The piercing light instantly broke the somewhat gloomy atmosphere of the clinic.

Zhang Jun's fingers remained on the old man's wrist. Beneath his fingertips, a warm current flowed silently, probing deeper.

The condition inside the meridians was even more thorny than he had anticipated. Not a simple blood stagnation, but an ancient, rare internal injury.

Deep within the chaotic breath lurked a heart-pounding force, like a dormant giant python, ready to burst forth and harm anyone, backlashing upon its master.

"You are an ancient martial practitioner," Zhang Jun said, withdrawing his hand.

His tone sounded calm, but his inner vigilance had risen to the utmost.

Mo Tianhe let out a soft sigh.

His originally somewhat hunched back suddenly straightened, an intangible aura surging outward.

As if he had become a different person, he said, "Young friend, you truly have keen insight."

Mo Tianhe stroked his beard, "I am surnamed Mo, Mo Tianhe, current head of the Bin Hai Mo Clan."

Lin Xue silently stepped sideways, taking a position to Zhang Jun's side-rear.

Around Mo Tianhe, the restrained yet powerful energy undulated, making it impossible to disregard.

"Old Mo, why bother with mystifying pretense?"

Zhang Jun's tone was direct.

"If you've come to stir up trouble, my modest clinic probably can't withstand your tossing about."

Mo Tianhe shook his head and chuckled.

"No misunderstanding—I truly came to seek medical treatment."

He pointed to his own chest.

"This injury has plagued me for over forty years; the quack doctors in town are helpless. I've heard that at the Hall of Spring Return there is a divine doctor who can treat 'energy strength' injuries."

Zhang Jun seemed thoughtful.

"Your internal injury… you were unfortunately wounded in a fight back then."

Mo Tianhe's tone was flat, yet it seemed to recount a bloody, tumultuous past.

"The opponent used the long-lost 'Burning Heart Strength,' which damaged three of my vital meridians. Thanks to an ancestral secret art, I have clung to life till now, but my time is running out."

Zhang Jun's brows knit tightly, his fingertips rubbing his left palm; Mo Tianhe's injury severity far exceeded imagination.

The three vital meridians were completely destroyed; deep in the meridians lurked the tyrannical remnants of Burning Heart Strength. That power, like a bone‑eating worm, has ceaselessly devoured his vitality for over forty years—that he has lasted till now is a tremendous miracle.

"Sir, this injury—"

Zhang Jun weighed his words.

"Forgive my frankness, but you ought to… have already been dead."

Mo Tianhe did not grow angry; instead he smiled and said, "Over the years I have consulted countless renowned doctors, and in the end they all said the same. Young friend, you are indeed candid."

Lin Xue's tone was cold as she cut in: "Old Mo, your visit probably isn't just for medical treatment, is it?"

"Good eye!"

Mo Tianhe gave Lin Xue an approving glance, then turned his gaze back to Zhang Jun.

"To be frank, I have come for two reasons: first, to seek medical treatment; second…"

He paused briefly.

"I wanted to personally witness the rumored Pure Yang Body that can counteract evil arts."

Zhang Jun's eyes darkened slightly.

"The news spreads quickly."

Mo Tianhe sighed.

"The ancient martial world is a small place; any stir becomes known. Moreover, Old Fox Lin Zhen has suffered a major setback, implicating many."

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue exchanged a glance.

"Sir, I can try treating this injury."

Zhang Jun brought the topic back on track.

"But there is a three‑tenths risk; success or failure is about fifty‑fifty."

"What kind of risk?"

"The remnants of Burning Heart Strength have seeped into the marrow; to eradicate them completely I must use my pure yang power, advancing inch by inch along your damaged meridians. A slight mistake, even a half‑degree deviation, could lightly sever the meridians or severely backlash the pure yang—either way leads to a dead end."

Mo Tianhe fell silent for a moment.

Suddenly he burst into loud laughter.

"Good! Compared to those timid quacks, little friend, this is much more satisfying! This old man's life should have long returned to the earth; to have clung to life till now is already a gain. If I can't be cured, it's just one death."

Zhang Jun did not immediately agree.

"Since Elder Mo mentioned Lin Zhen, you must know something about my situation with Lin Xue. I can treat this illness, but Elder Mo, could you tell me a bit about the Snow Mountain and those mysterious mountain folk?"

Mo Tianhe's eyes flashed with sharp light again.

"As expected, your thoughts are careful. Have you seen that symbol before?"

Lin Xue stepped forward.

"Does Elder Mo know the origin of that symbol? I know a little about it."

Mo Tianhe lowered his voice.

"That is an ancient organization passed down for a thousand years, called the Guardians of the Night, which has guarded that Snow Mountain generation after generation; as for what they guard…"

He shook his head slightly.

"I'm afraid even Old Fox Lin Zhen only knows the surface."

Zhang Jun's heart stirred.

"That elder brother…"

"Elder brother?"

Mo Tianhe's expression changed slightly.

"Have you seen elder brother?"

Zhang Jun nodded and briefly recounted what had happened at the abandoned factory.

After hearing that, Mo Tianhe's expression grew even graver.

"The situation is more complicated than I imagined."