Chapter 6: Revival

"The surgery was a great success!" Jiang Ping'an's exhausted face struggled to form a smile, while Ye Song expressed her immense gratitude, "Thank you, Doctor Jiang."

Jiang Ping'an glanced at Zhuang Zhou, then made as if to leave. Suddenly, the old man lying on the operating table, Elder Ye, began to tremble violently. More alarmingly, blood started to gush from all seven orifices, and lumps of various sizes erupted all over his body, resembling the rough, knobby skin of a toad.

"What’s happening?"

Jiang Ping'an panicked. He had never encountered such an acute episode before. Stranger still, the lumps on Elder Ye’s body turned a dark red, clearly a buildup of stagnant blood, horrifying to behold.

Jiang Ping'an rushed to try and resuscitate him, but another figure moved even faster, darting forward and calling out to Wu Dongjie, "Director Wu, lend me your silver needles!"

It wasn’t only Jiang Ping'an and Ye Song who were terrified; everyone present was startled, even the composure in Elder Yan's eyes was gone, replaced by panic. This was a major crisis.

At this moment, no one cared whether Zhuang Zhou practiced medicine or witchcraft.

The forces of Yin and Yang poison could no longer be contained. This was only the beginning; if things worsened, the body would soon rupture. The earlier operation had left the patient’s body unable to balance the two toxins within, so in an instant, both poisons erupted again.

What Zhuang Zhou had feared had come to pass.

“Yes, yes, here!” Wu Dongjie hurriedly handed over his box of silver needles. Zhuang Zhou took them with practiced ease, his hands moving so swiftly that even Wu Dongjie couldn't follow. One box was used up in the blink of an eye; Zhuang Zhou reached out, and another doctor handed over a fresh supply.

Sweat rolled down his forehead, but Zhuang Zhou had no time to care. This needle technique was draining his energy and spirit to the utmost.

Jiang Ping'an was so frightened that his legs gave way; he leaned trembling against the wall, his mind in utter chaos. How could this be happening?

Everyone stared in awe as Zhuang Zhou’s hands flew over the patient’s body, inserting needle after needle until Elder Ye was bristling with silver—he looked just like a living porcupine.

“What... what is this?” Elder Yan’s voice was trembling.

Wu Dongjie couldn’t help but suck in a breath. Zhuang Zhou’s technique was lightning-fast, but the seasoned Wu Dongjie caught a glimpse of his skill. Such mastery was beyond what any young medical student could possess; even the most accomplished traditional Chinese medicine experts couldn’t compare.

“Elder Yan, it’s true—it’s the Soul-Returning Needle! This is the legendary, long-lost acupuncture method, the Soul-Returning Needle!” another traditional medicine expert exclaimed, his voice quivering with excitement.

In a flash, Zhuang Zhou had inserted three hundred and sixty needles. Only then did Elder Ye’s convulsions gradually subside, and miraculously, the bloody lumps on his body began to fade. The steady beeping of the monitors signaled that Elder Ye was, for now, out of danger.

“A miracle! A miracle!” one doctor shouted, unable to contain himself. Zhuang Zhou shot him a sharp look, and the middle-aged man, over fifty, actually took a few steps back and clamped his hand over his mouth, visibly intimidated.

Elder Yan also glared at the doctor—such lack of composure!

Wu Dongjie stepped forward and wiped the sweat from Zhuang Zhou’s brow. The more he saw of this young man, the more unfathomable he became.

Everything had happened so suddenly that even Ye Song could hardly believe it. In the end, it was this medical student—whose methods were dismissed as superstition—who saved her grandfather.

“How is he?” Wu Dongjie asked anxiously.

“The crisis is under control for now,” Zhuang Zhou replied coldly, casting a meaningful glance at Ye Song. “But if the poison isn’t neutralized within three days, there’s no hope.”

Ye Song was stunned. She had always thought Zhuang Zhou was exaggerating, but seeing the gravity on his face now, she realized he hadn’t overstated the danger at all.

“Young man, are you saying the patient has been poisoned?” Elder Yan asked in surprise.

“The Yin toxin has invaded the organs; the Yang toxin is burning the flesh and bone,” Zhuang Zhou replied calmly.

Elder Yan stepped forward and gently took Elder Ye’s wrist. Slowly, his snowy brows furrowed in concentration, and he nodded with deep seriousness. “Strange, truly strange.”

Zhuang Zhou explained evenly, “By the pulse, the patient’s organs have been invaded almost entirely—likely the result of old injuries. Meanwhile, the flesh is abnormally hot, consistent with what this young man described. But what’s strange is, why didn’t any of the previous examinations reveal this?” Elder Yan muttered to himself, lost in thought. The old man’s illness was simply too bizarre: unpredictable, aggressive, unprecedented. Could there truly be, as this young man said, a deeper cause?

Jiang Ping'an was dumbfounded. He knew Elder Yan was a leading expert in neurology, but he hadn’t realized the old man was so well-versed in traditional medicine as well.

Wu Dongjie, however, understood the history. Elder Yan had once been a renowned traditional physician before turning to Western medicine for various reasons. His mastery of traditional medicine far surpassed today’s so-called experts.

“Young man, that was the Soul-Returning Needle you just used?” Elder Yan suddenly asked.

In his past life, this was merely a routine, life-saving acupuncture method to stimulate hidden potential, but here, it was regarded as something miraculous. Zhuang Zhou couldn’t explain otherwise, nor did he need to. The medical theory held true, and since the effect matched the name, he nodded in acknowledgment.

“If there is an opportunity, shall we discuss it together?” Elder Yan asked kindly.

Zhuang Zhou smiled. He respected this legendary elder of Dongjiang Province. “If Elder Yan is willing, I would not dare refuse. I look forward to learning from your guidance.”

His words were graceful; with such humility from Elder Yan, he would never dare overstep as a junior. To do so would be sheer arrogance.

Elder Yan nodded in satisfaction, then suddenly pointed at Elder Ye and asked, “For this patient, do you have a recommended treatment?” Unconsciously, his tone toward Zhuang Zhou had grown warmer, his form of address more respectful.

Zhuang Zhou answered frankly, “I do, but it was previously rejected by Elder Ye’s attending doctor, Jiang Ping'an, and the patient’s family, Ye Song. To be honest, Elder Ye’s condition can’t be delayed any longer. Once the poison reaches his heart, nothing can save him.”

Jiang Ping'an’s eyes burned with resentment. He could not believe that Zhuang Zhou—regarded as a failure at the academy—was now the hero of the hour. Had he been hiding his skills all along? No, impossible. If he were truly so capable, how could he have been framed and ruined? Faced with the extraordinary turn of events, Jiang Ping'an fell into deep thought. Had he underestimated this medical student?

Next to him, Ye Song flushed with embarrassment. After all, Zhuang Zhou’s treatment plan was so unorthodox as to defy belief.

“Why don’t you explain it again, and we’ll discuss it thoroughly,” Elder Yan said kindly.

Zhuang Zhou felt a natural affinity for the old gentleman, perhaps a remnant from his soul’s former life. He did not demur, but answered earnestly, “Very well. Elder Ye’s illness is a recurrence of an old affliction. The trigger, I believe, was frostbite he suffered as a young man, which left a lasting root in his body.”

“That’s right! My grandfather told me about the winter on Snow Mountain, when he lay in the snow for three days and nights to assassinate the enemy commander. He survived only thanks to his comrades,” Ye Song exclaimed, both surprised and excited.

Zhuang Zhou ignored her and continued, “The cold poison from the frostbite gradually infiltrated his organs over the years, eventually forming Yin toxin.”

He paused, then went on, “As for the Yang toxin, it was caused by excessive use of tonic medicines, resulting in an accumulation of Yang fire in the body with no way to vent.”

Elder Yan nodded repeatedly as he listened.

“Is there a cure?” he asked.

Zhuang Zhou nodded. “I explained my plan when Director Wu was present, but it was considered too unconventional and dismissed.”

“So what do you propose?” Elder Yan pressed.

“To neutralize the toxins, the patient must first be poisoned. Yin toxin is treated with Yang, and Yang toxin with Yin—fighting poison with poison. The Yang toxin, caused by tonics, can be neutralized with venom from the Tianshan Snow Toad. Then, using the lava fire scorpion’s stinger, combined with the Ghost Nine Needles technique, the Yin toxin can be expelled from the body.”

Tianshan Snow Toad? Lava Fire Scorpion? And the Ghost Nine Needles?