Chapter 108: then title translation, then ===GLOSSARY=== with list

Wan Changqing was taken aback; he never expected this youngster to be so young yet have such a temper. As the saying goes, without a diamond drill, don't take on porcelain work—perhaps he really does have some skill.

At this moment, two more physicians' servants were driven out; one even had his scholar's headgear ripped off. A servant shouted, "Jianghu quacks also dare to come door-to-door to swindle—if you dare come again, I'll hit you each time." The two physicians fled in disarray.

Wan Changqing glanced over, a faint cold smile curling his lips, then his gaze fell on Hu Xiaotian's face—his meaning could not be clearer: if you lack genuine ability and still try to swindle your way in, you'll end up just like them.

Although Wan Changqing deep down didn't believe this youngster could possess much medical skill, given the situation—Second Young Master Wan Ting Sheng's life hanging by a thread—he had tried every conceivable remedy; as the saying goes, treat a dead horse as if it were alive, having another opinion couldn't hurt.

Hu Xiaotian followed Wan Changqing to Wan Ting Sheng's residence. The Wan mansion was vast, covering over thirty mu, far more imposing than the county office. The front area was for receiving guests and conducting affairs; all Wan family members lived in the rear courtyard, with the back garden as the center, divided into five separate zones. Wan Yuanwai lived in the main house facing south, the eldest son Wan Ting Chang resided to his left—that is, the east wing; the second son lived in the west wing; the third son, Wan Tingguang, had lived with his parents before marriage. Prior to his wedding, the Wan family specially prepared a small courtyard in the southeast corner adjoining the Green Bamboo Garden for him and his bride, but on their wedding day this ill-fated third young master died, and the widowed Le Yao has continued to live there ever since.

Hu Xiaotian arrived at the west wing; before even stepping through the gate, he heard wailing from the women inside, and the servants standing at the door wore looks of grim despair. His heart sank; he muttered to himself, "Could Wan Ting Sheng already be dead? If he is, my trip here would have been for nothing."

Upon entering the west wing gate, he saw Wan Bo Ping and his eldest son Wan Ting Chang standing there with worried frowns. Although Wan Bo Ping had three sons, he doted most on the second, Wan Ting Sheng. The third was a simpleton and had already passed away; the eldest loafed about, idling his days away, indulging in eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling—one could say Wan Bo Ping had placed all his hopes for inheriting the family estate on the second son; who would have thought the second son would now face this misfortune.

Wan Ting Chang accompanied his father with a worried expression, yet inwardly he was overjoyed; often, the wealthier the family, the thinner the brotherly affection. Wan Ting Chang knew he was not favored in his father's eyes, and the Wan family estate would mostly go to the second son; deep down he wished the second son would die early. He never imagined his wish would come true. If the second son were truly dead, then he would become the sole heir, and the Wan family's vast fortune would fall entirely into his hands— the more he thought about it, the more pleased he grew, barely holding back a laugh.

Seeing Wan Changqing summon such a young physician, Wan Bo Ping was visibly displeased, and Wan Ting Chang finally found an opportunity to show off. Naturally he seized the moment to vent, pointing at Wan Changqing's nose and shouting, "Do you even have a brain? You actually brought a wet-behind-the-ears brat to look at my brother? You've delayed his condition—I'll have you answer for this!" He acted as if he were deeply concerned about his brother's illness.

Wan Changqing hung his head, speechless under the scolding. Murong Feiyan, however, could not stand it—not because she objected to Wan Changqing being berated, but because Wan Ting Chang's remarks had just insulted Hu Xiaotian. She said coldly, "One cannot judge a book by its cover. Don't assume someone's abilities just because they're young, nor assume someone who looks upright is necessarily good—who knows what shady deeds they might be up to behind the scenes?"

Murong Feiyan had merely blurted out in a fit of anger; who would have thought her words struck exactly at the Wan father and son's soft spot? Their gazes snapped to her in unison—both sharp-eyed. Instantly they saw that Murong Feiyan was a woman dressed as a man, and almost simultaneously they thought, "What a beautiful woman she is."

Hu Xiaotian said, "Well said, Feiyan. Since they don't believe us, there's no need for us to stay here and suffer their scorn—let's go!" He turned as if to leave, but in truth he didn't care whether Wan Ting Sheng lived or died; his reason for coming was Le Yao.

Wan Bo Ping had now reached the point of desperation, calling in any physician of repute in Qingyun County, yet all were helpless and declared his beloved son surely doomed. Although he had sent people far and wide to summon famous doctors, he didn't know how long the round trip would take; even if he could secure a skilled physician, by the time they arrived in Qingyun it might already be too late. Wan Bo Ping hurriedly said, "Please, sir, stay!"

Hu Xiaotian had merely been bluffing, but hearing Wan Bo Ping's plea he halted his steps: "Wan Yuanwai, do you have anything else you need from me?"

Given Wan Bo Ping's arrogant nature, under ordinary circumstances he would never lower himself; but his beloved son's life hung by a thread, and he had lost his former pride. Wan Bo Ping forced out a thin smile and said, "Mr. Hu, please stay; my son's words and conduct have been improper—I hope you will not take offense."

Wan Ting Chang, hearing his father speak in such a deferential tone, could not help but flush with anger, his face turning ashen; he could not fathom why his father would show such deference to a young physician.

Hu Xiaotian glanced at Wan Ting Chang and said, "Failure to educate the son is the father's fault—Wan Yuanwai ought to reflect on this."

Both Wan Bo Ping and his son were seething with anger; Wan Bo Ping used his gaze to check his son's outburst, thinking inwardly, "Just who are you, youngster, to be so arrogant, daring to lecture even an old man like me? If you really have some ability, that's one thing; but if you can't cure my son, I'll settle old and new scores with you—no one in Qingyun dares to act presumptuously before me." Yet, concerned for his son's condition, he could only suppress his rage and put on a friendly face.

Only then did Hu Xiaotian agree to go inside to examine Wan Ting Sheng.

The Wan family had many women; the one weeping most bitterly at the bedside was Wan Ting Sheng's mother, while his wife and two maidservants wailed uncontrollably beside her—though called maids, they were in fact his concubines, having already consummated the marriage but not yet held the ceremony.

Seeing the room full of women wailing until heaven and earth seemed dark, Wan Bo Ping felt a surge of irritation and waved his hand: "Cry, cry, cry! All you know how to do is cry—get out, all of you!"

Wan's lady was of ample and dignified bearing, but her eyes were red from weeping over her son's condition as she sobbed, "Am I not even allowed to cry for my son? … If anything happens to him—any mishap—I won't let this rest with you!"

After finally managing to usher the women out, Hu Xiaotian approached the bedside and saw Wan Ting Sheng lying stiffly. He first checked the young man's breathing and pulse with his hand, confirming that respiration and heartbeat were still present—so he wasn't dead—then lifted his eyelids to examine the pupils, which were not dilated; Hu Xiaotian began to form an idea.

Hu Xiaotian then proceeded to examine Wan Ting Sheng's injuries. He had originally thought Wan Ting Sheng had been knocked senseless by his own blow to the forehead, but after a thorough check he realized the injuries were not limited to one spot; there were more than ten bruises and abrasions on his body, and the ultimate injury lay in his left temple—meaning it was not his single strike that had reduced him to this state. Recalling who had been present that night besides himself—only Le Yao, who was frail and weak, and they had been together the whole time—there was no reason for her to return after he left and strike again, nor did she likely possess that much force. It seemed the attacker was someone else.

Since Wan Ting Sheng had entered a coma, the only way to learn about his condition was to ask others.

Wan Bo Ping said, "He fell accidentally in the courtyard last night; when we found him, he was already like this." In fact, when they discovered Wan Ting Sheng, he was clad head to toe in black with his face covered, leading the Wan family to suspect a nocturnal intruder; Wan Bo Ping was clearly not telling the truth, and more importantly, family disgrace must not be aired—such a matter is simply too shameful to speak of.

Hu Xiaotian shook his head. "A fall? Unlikely. To be frank, Master Wan has multiple wounds on his head and body; they are clearly not from a fall but from violent blows." Hu Xiaotian naturally understood this, but although he had only struck Wan Ting Sheng once with his stick the previous night, judging from the young man's current condition, it was certain that after Hu Xiaotian dragged him away, someone else took the opportunity to strike a dark blow.

Wan Ting Chang, standing nearby, snapped angrily, "Do you even know how to treat illness? My brother's life hangs by a thread, yet you keep spouting irrelevant nonsense, delaying his condition—can you bear the responsibility?"

Hu Xiaotian gave him a cold look and said, "If I can't cure him, I doubt anyone else in the world could!" He spoke with full confidence, his words firm and unyielding.

Apart from Murong Feiyan, who had witnessed his miraculous medical skill, everyone else thought this young physician was utterly arrogant; Hu Xiaotian intended to use this manner to shock them, and his earlier words contained no exaggeration—on this continent, surgical knowledge is extremely backward. Although lacking modern diagnostic equipment, Hu Xiaotian still made a preliminary diagnosis based on Wan Ting Sheng's symptoms. Wan Ting Sheng likely suffered an epidural hematoma due to trauma; an epidural hematoma is a blood clot located between the inner table of the skull and the dura mater, commonly occurring on the convex surface of the supratentorial compartment, accounting for about thirty percent of traumatic intracranial hematomas, with a relatively acute onset, and the formation of the clot is closely related to cranial injury—because fractures or temporary deformations of the skull from trauma can tear the meningeal arteries or venous sinuses running in the grooves, causing bleeding or bleeding from fractured bone plates.

Although Hu Xiaotian's display of immense confidence bordered on arrogance, his self-assurance also stunned many of those present.

Wan Bo Ping lowered his voice and asked, "May I ask, sir, what exactly is my son's ailment?"

Hu Xiaotian said, "He developed a cerebral hematoma after being struck in the head with a blunt object; the resulting blood clot compresses the brain, causing his acute coma. Fortunately you have encountered me—otherwise, even a deity might not be able to save him." This remark clearly shows he considers himself superior to a god.

The Wan family exchanged glances, uncertain where this young physician drew such immense confidence from—could he really possess such ability?

Only eighty votes shy of the two-thousand-vote goal; after removing the double-count factor, that's just forty chapters. I believe we can finish tonight—Zhangyu will first send the first update, adding fuel to the push for the rankings. Once these forty votes are in, Zhangyu will release chapter eight! Words must be deeds, let this stand as proof! Brothers and sisters, let's enjoy the good days first—don't hoard your monthly tickets!