Chapter 2243: Miao Border Youth

A Si and Jiu Tian rushed to the Spirit Grass Hall.

A Si leaned close to Jin Chen's ear and whispered a few words; the boy's usual grin vanished instantly.

Jin Chen narrowed his eyes, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the silver snake earring, and a sudden chill crept over him, like a venomous snake poised to strike.

Ling Gun Gun blew on his shoulder, 【Whoosh… calm down.】

Jiu Tian rubbed his hands and turned to Nan Yixing: "Physician Nan, the Miao King wants you to prescribe a recuperation regimen for the young master's older brother, Jin Que."

"Jin Que's constitution is weak; he can't withstand worm therapy."

"Older brother?" Fan Ruoxi paused, the medicine shovel in his hand hovering, puzzled, "I've never heard…"

"Shut up."

Jin Chen suddenly spoke, his voice not loud but it silenced everyone.

As they passed the Twin Worm Spring, several elders from the village happened to come out of the Miao King's Building, saw Jin Chen, and shoved sweet cakes and fruit into his hands.

Their rough palms lightly patted the boy's hand backs, their eyes filled with an indescribable pity.

Nan Yixing saw clearly that the sweet cake was carefully wrapped in banana leaves, a practice used only when coaxing children in the village.

"A Si." Taking advantage of Jin Chen walking ahead, Nan Yixing lowered his voice to call A Si and Jiu Tian, "What's going on?"

A Si glanced anxiously at Jin Chen's back, his voice lowered to a whisper: "This, I can't explain either."

"In short, Physician Nan, from now on… don't mention his older brother in front of the young master."

Having said that, he hurried after them.

The sound of the stream faded, and the eaves of the Miao King's Building flickered in and out of view among the tree shadows.

Jin Chen suddenly stopped walking; the crushed sweet‑cake crumbs in his hand scattered into the grass.

【I need to bring a gift for that son of a bitch.】 Jin Chen said solemnly.

Ling Gun Gun kept blowing, and it was obvious that the gift its host had in mind couldn't be anything good.

【It's not possible yet; it'll backfire!】

Really, not the slightest bit steady.

In the Miao King's Building, a small bamboo pavilion was set apart within the courtyard.

Inside the room, the bamboo blinds were half‑rolled, and the sunlight that filtered in flowed across the blue‑stone floor.

The young man in the wheelchair lifted his hand to pour tea; his fingertips bore the pallor of long illness.

"Sorry for the delay." Jin Que pushed the tea cup toward Nan Yixing; his sleeve slipped down, revealing forearms covered in needle marks—old wounds from years of bloodletting to raise worms.

He resembled Jin Chen somewhat, but lacked Jin Chen's alluring charm; instead he was like faded ink smudged on rice paper—peaceful and handsome.

A clear chime of silver bells came from outside the door.

Jin Chen leaned against the doorframe, gnawing on wild berries, gazing into the room.

"A Chen…" Jin Que suddenly gave a muffled cough twice, his fingers gripping the wheelchair's armrests, "My chest hurts terribly today."

Jin Chen snorted, spitting out the berry seeds, "How come it hasn't killed you yet."

They hardly seem like brothers; they're more like enemies.

Behind Nan Yixing, several junior disciples exchanged glances, all puzzled but afraid to ask.

Only Bai Mo glanced at Jin Que a few times, as if evaluating him.

Jin Chen stepped over the threshold, glanced at the medicine basket, and casually knocked it over.

Fo‑ti rolled beneath Jin Que's wheelchair, coated in mud.

Nan Yixing, closest to it, was about to bend down to pick it up when his little finger was suddenly hooked.

Jin Chen's finger scraped over his calloused palm; the boy's fingertip bore an old wound from a worm bite, which itched when rubbed.

"A Chen, rest assured—before the Holy Son's selection…" Jin Que fumbled to pick up the medicinal herbs, his emaciated hand's back bursting with a web‑like network of veins, "I won't let anything interfere with your affairs."

When he lifted his head, Nan Yixing finally noticed that the two brothers shared the same violet pupils, only the elder's eyes seemed veiled by a perpetual mist.

Jin Chen simply ignored that son of a bitch.

He grabbed Nan Yixing's hand and pressed it to his own chest, "Pretty older brother, feel it here—that's where it really hurts."

Beneath the purple gauze, the youth's heartbeat was clearly steady.

Nan Yixing didn't call him out, silently letting him squeeze his fingers.

Outside the bamboo blinds, the sound of the Miao King's scepter striking the ground drew nearer from afar.

The Miao King's dark robe swept over the threshold; seeing Jin Chen inside, he ultimately did not step in, merely letting out a sigh.

Only the Elder entered, holding a medicine box.

"Physician Nan——" the Elder had just begun to speak when Jin Chen's icy glare pinned him in place.

The youth's fingertips twirled around Nan Yixing's sleeve, his violet eyes condensing with frost.

Jin Chen did not want Nan Yixing to treat Jin Que.

Nan Yixing somehow understood, lightly tapping Fan Ruoxi's shoulder, "Little Fan, you come."

Fan Ruoxi placed his fingers on Jin Que's wrist, his brows tightening: "The pulse is thin as a thread, especially weak at the cubit."

He lifted Jin Que's eyelids to examine: "Liver blood deficient, yang of the heart uninvigorated—likely due to long‑term worry damaging the spleen."

His fingertips touched the skin at the wrist; the temperature was also far lower than normal.

"Will he die?" Jin Chen suddenly interjected.

Beside him, a red snake slithered along the wheelchair's armrest.

Fan Ruoxi stared: "This…… actually won't."

"Then there's no need to treat it."

Jin Chen stepped on the chair with one foot, curled his lip, "Just keep him breathing."

Fan Ruoxi: "……Huh?"

What vicious words are you saying, pretty young master!

Jin Que covered his mouth as he coughed, specks of blood froth leaking from between his fingers.

"Achen..."

He called softly, his voice as faint as a candle in the wind, the wheelchair armrest gripped tight until it trembled, revealing old and new scars overlapping on his wrist.

Anyone who saw would likely say it's pitiful.

The elder hurried to smooth things over: "At least let Jin Que get up and eat, otherwise the villagers......"

He glanced at Jin Chen's face, took out an oil-wrapped packet from the bottom of the medicine box, and said, "Young master, this is the Songzi candy you loved as a child—try it."

The elder also signaled Nan Yixing with his eyes, hoping he'd say a few soothing words as well,

Jin Chen sneered, shoved the Songzi candy into the elder's mouth, pulled his beard, and said, "I won't."

Nan Yixing raised a hand to stop Jin Chen, then coaxed gently, "Just two needles to invigorate the circulation, that's all."

The hand that Jin Chen held twitched slightly, his thumb rubbing the youth's tiger's mouth, "Is that okay?"

Bai Mo suddenly stood up, his voice filled with a unique innocent indignation, "A healer's benevolent heart! How can one see death and not save?"

Before his words faded, three poisonous bees flew from Jin Chen's sleeve, hovering just before Bai Mo's forehead.

Jin Chen looked at Bai Mo and said, "You can give it a try."

Bai Mo: "......"

He hurriedly stepped back, not daring to say more.

Fan Ruoxi gritted his teeth and inserted the needle in the eerie atmosphere.

As the silver needle entered the acupoint, the gu markings on Jin Que's neck suddenly glowed with a faint light.

Nan Yixing lowered his gaze to watch Fan Ruoxi insert the needle; scattered light from the bamboo curtain cast shadows on his eyelashes, the corners of his eyes naturally drooping like the compassionate bodhisattva in temple paintings, his eyes seeming to hold three parts sorrow.

Jin Que couldn't help but look toward Nan Yixing, coughing as he pulled his clothes tighter.

Nan Yixing noticed the gaze, lightly lifted his eyes, and met Jin Que's for a moment.

Yet in the depths of those compassionate eyes, Jin Que caught a glimpse of dead water—an indifference colder than the most toxic gu worms of the Miao Frontier.

His heart gave a jolt, he turned his head aside to cough, and faintly felt that things were slipping beyond control.

How could the disciples from the South Gate...... be so close to Jin Chen, not showing an ounce of soft-heartedness?