Chapter Twelve: The Old Man's "Confession"

“What’s going on? You can’t do it? Li, are you serious? After all the trouble I went through to bring you here, and now you say you can’t treat him?”

The moment Li Wuwei uttered those words, Qin Baoguo’s previously arrogant expression collapsed instantly.

He had planned to use this opportunity to earn merit in front of the old master, hoping to secure his position in the Qin family and lay the groundwork for ousting Qin Siyuan in the future.

But nothing had gone his way today. The man he had invited turned out to be one of Ye Cheng’s subordinates. And now, just when he finally managed to get Li Wuwei to see the old master, Li was saying there was no hope.

Didn’t this mean he was blocked on both fronts?

If Ye Cheng failed to save the old master, his own shallow roots in the Qin family would mean he was no match for Qin Siyuan. But if Ye Cheng succeeded, the credit would go to Qin Siyuan anyway, and he’d still lose.

No, he couldn’t let Qin Siyuan have his way. His own place in the family had to be preserved.

With that, Qin Baoguo steeled himself and blurted out, “Hmph, if you can’t do it, I won’t let that man touch the old master either. Today, no one but the doctor I invited is allowed near him.”

As soon as he spoke, the atmosphere in the Qin family residence turned heavy and tense.

“Cough, cough—foolish child, I’m not dead yet!”

At that moment, an aged voice came from inside the room, breaking the frozen silence.

“The old master is awake?”

Qin Zhiqiu immediately realized what was happening and rushed into the old master’s sickroom. The others instinctively followed.

Only Qin Baoguo, upon hearing the old master’s voice, felt his heart skip a beat. His legs turned weak and trembled uncontrollably. After half a minute in a daze, he finally mustered his courage and entered the room, anxiety heavy in his chest.

The old master’s chamber was filled with advanced medical equipment. Two doctors in white coats stood respectfully nearby.

When the doctors saw Li Wuwei and a young man enter, they quickly stepped aside, making way and standing respectfully.

“Master, I just used the medical techniques you taught me and sealed the old master’s heart meridian with silver needles. That’s what allowed him to regain consciousness,” Li Wuwei reported.

“But he’s frail with age and has been poisoned. With my skill, I really can’t see any hope of saving him. Judging by his condition, he may not last much longer.” Li Wuwei shook his head in resignation, turning to Ye Cheng.

“Father, how are you feeling? Are you alright? Don’t worry, we’ve invited Doctor Ye here—he will surely cure you!” Qin Zhiqiu could not hold back her tears and threw herself sobbing at the old master’s bedside.

“Don’t cry just yet. Let me take a look first. Though the poisoning is severe, it’s not entirely beyond saving.”

Seeing the old master lying hunched and frail upon the bed, Ye Cheng felt much of his resentment melt away. This old man had once been complicit in his downfall, yet today, perhaps by a stroke of fate, he’d be saved by his own adopted son and daughter.

With these thoughts, Ye Cheng stepped to the old master’s side.

At this moment, the old master’s mouth hung slightly open, the breath leaving him but barely returning. Ye Cheng’s expression grew complicated as he gazed upon him, his mind filled with emotion.

How quickly fortune changes, he thought. Once the mighty master of the Qin family, now left with a single, struggling breath—such is the rise and fall of men.

The old master’s consciousness was still somewhat clear. When he saw Ye Cheng approach, he struggled to move his lips, as if he wished to speak. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. Summoning his last strength, he tried to reach out and grasp Ye Cheng’s hand—but though Ye Cheng was close, the old master could not reach him. Nor did Ye Cheng extend his hand.

“Doctor Ye, I know the old master and our family have wronged you. But he has been like a father to me—please, I beg you, have mercy and save him.”

Seeing Ye Cheng hesitate, Qin Siyuan, who had remained silent after being stifled by Qin Baoguo earlier, grew desperate. He knew Ye Cheng was still wavering because of what had happened before, so he strode forward without another word and knelt heavily before Ye Cheng.

“Doctor Ye, please save the old master. I am willing to kowtow to you.”

When even her brother, a five-star deputy commander, knelt before Ye Cheng, Qin Zhiqiu did not hesitate either; she too fell to her knees, bowing her head.

“Rise,” Ye Cheng said.

He hadn’t expected the siblings to kneel before him, and for a moment he was moved by their filial devotion. Qin Siyuan, after all, was a renowned leader, and today he humbled himself for his foster father’s sake. Even with all his grievances, Ye Cheng found it hard to refuse.

So, without another word, he took the old master’s hand and felt for his pulse.

“Father…” Qin Baoguo wanted to stop Ye Cheng, but as the word left his lips, he caught the cold, penetrating glare in the old master’s half-open eyes—and dared not speak further.

“Wuwei, bring more silver needles, and have some white radish sliced and brought here.”

Ye Cheng ignored Qin Baoguo’s reaction. After checking the old master’s pulse, he gave the order calmly.

“White radish? But isn’t that used to dispel energy? Master, the old man’s breath is already so weak—if we drain any more, I fear…”

Li Wuwei asked in confusion.

“Just do as I say. Leave the silver needles here, and go fetch the radish. You’ll understand soon enough.”

Ye Cheng’s answer was as calm as a still pond.

“Yes, I’ll do it at once,” Li Wuwei replied, nodding.

“Someone, take Master Li to the kitchen and bring some white radish,” Qin Siyuan instructed a servant to assist Li Wuwei.

After Li Wuwei left, Ye Cheng picked up the silver needles just set down. Then he had Qin Zhiqiu support the old master upright.

With deft hands, Ye Cheng inserted silver needles into the Baihui, Dazhui, Lianquan, Tiantu, Tanzhong, and other vital points on the old master’s body. In one swift movement, he had placed needles into every major acupoint along the minor meridians.

Next, he slowly removed the needles that Li Wuwei had previously inserted, instructing Qin Zhiqiu to hold the old master steady.

“Master, the white radish is ready. How should we use it?” At that moment, Li Wuwei returned to the room with the neatly sliced radish.