Chapter 387: Physical Examination

Chapter 387: A Physical Examination

Abbot Tang, lost in the pleasures of male beauty, hid in the back courtyard and neglected his duties. All affairs of Xiangyang were left to his paramour. The Demon-Slaying Department was filled with members of the Blood God Sect, and the military commander was none other than the sect’s leader himself. For a time, Xiangyang was shrouded in demonic flames, resembling the stronghold of a demonic cult.

The Great Zhou and his companions observed in trepidation for several days, only to be astonished to find that nothing had gone wrong. On the contrary, everything was visibly improving.

The military was manageable enough—when funds and provisions were sufficient, all else followed. Xue Canghai’s foundation was robust, and his iron-fisted control ensured not a single misstep. The atmosphere became stern and disciplined, with training proceeding with fiery zeal, as if they were ready to march east at any moment.

Within the city, public order had notably improved. For instance, the incident a few days prior where Tang Wanzhuang was harassed by ruffians while shopping would certainly not happen today.

The Demon-Slaying Department was not ordinarily responsible for public security—that was the duty of constables. But during wartime, the department often took over, as many skilled infiltrators slipped in, beyond the capacity of ordinary constables.

As a result, whenever there was a robbery, theft, or disturbance, a pack of eager Blood God followers would rush in and beat the offenders. Their eager glances at their leaders, as if asking whether they could kill the culprits, made one wonder who the real bandits were.

With such ferocious guardians stationed in the city, peace reigned. Not a single person dared to cause trouble...

The Great Zhou and his group had initially feared that these brutes, once cloaked in official authority, would turn to outright plunder. To their surprise, they found the discipline excellent, as if they had been trained to harm not a single hair of the common folk.

When they discreetly consulted Zhao Changhe, his answer was, “How would I know?”

The Great Zhou: “...”

The Great Zhou suspected it had to do with the sect’s doctrine. For the followers, doctrine and faith outweighed imperial law. Upon further inquiry, however, the doctrine only forbade indiscriminate killing and had yet to address matters like bullying...

Bursting with curiosity, the Great Zhou secretly approached Instructor Sun.

Instructor Sun said, “It works in the short term. I can’t say for the long term.”

“Why does it work in the short term?”

“Because all their lives, they’ve been hiding in the shadows, scorned by others. Now, for once, they can hold their heads high, do things that earn praise and thanks, and bask in the gaze of both respect and fear. They’re addicted to it and unwilling to ruin it themselves. But over time, without restraint, who knows if they’ll revert to their old ways?”

The Great Zhou was enlightened and secretly reported this to Zhao Changhe.

Zhao Changhe pondered for a moment, then picked up his brush and wrote a new doctrine: “Do not bully the weak, lest you shame the Blood God.”

He handed it to the Great Zhou: “Take this to Sect Leader Xue and see how it can be inserted into the original doctrine.”

The Great Zhou took the manuscript with some exasperation, thinking to himself, Isn’t this a bit too casual for amending a sect’s doctrine? Would the sect leader even acknowledge it?

From start to finish, he forgot to pay his respects to the woman standing beside Zhao Changhe, grinding ink. He subconsciously regarded her as part of Zhao Changhe’s household and felt awkward addressing her. Only after he had walked far away did he suddenly stop, realizing, “The abbot was standing right there, and I didn’t even offer a salute...”

A graceful woman standing by, grinding ink and adding incense for him—the Abbot Tang...

Sigh, something you wouldn’t even dare to dream of.

Well, given the situation, it didn’t matter who he saluted. Perhaps seeing him respect the “crown prince” would only please the abbot more.

Indeed, inside the room, Tang Wanzhuang paid no attention to such trivialities as the Great Zhou’s lack of a bow. While grinding ink, she said, “The Blood God Sect has proven far more useful than I ever anticipated.”

Zhao Changhe replied, “I never expected it either. Back in the mountain stronghold, I thought they were beyond redemption. I actually abandoned them when I left.”

“Whether you try to lead them makes all the difference.”

“Yes... at the time, I didn’t attempt that path. I only wanted to escape.”

Tang Wanzhuang seemed lost in thought, her mind wandering.

Zhao Changhe asked curiously, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking, if even the Blood God Sect—more demonic in nature than the Four Symbols Sect—can be steered toward good, then perhaps the Four Symbols Sect could be too...”

“The Four Symbols Sect is actually harder,” Zhao Changhe said. “The key with the Blood God Sect is that they see me as the Blood God’s avatar, a holy child, so they listen to me. Indeed, from every angle, I fit the role—even I feel I can interpret the Blood God’s will better than they can. As for the Four Symbols Sect...”

He hesitated, not finishing the thought.

The problem with the Four Symbols Sect wasn’t the Night Emperor or not. It seemed that now, through male charm, he was practically on good terms with them all.

Tang Wanzhuang’s grinding grew more forceful, and the ink stick suddenly shortened by a third. Zhao Changhe’s heart raced as he imagined a certain bleak future.

He quickly handed her the manuscript: “No need to grind anymore. I’m done writing.”

Tang Wanzhuang took it expressionlessly and glanced over it, a flicker of admiration in her eyes.

This was the question she had just posed to him—an interpretation and elaboration of a certain theory in the medical classics, along with a treatment plan and medicinal considerations based on that theory. Zhao Changhe, finding it hard to explain verbally, had taken up the brush to illustrate. She found it interesting and had ground ink for him while watching.

But setting the content aside, his handwriting had grown increasingly beautiful. Every time she saw his writing, it felt like watching a child shoot up in height—years later, the child had grown taller than the mother. His calligraphy had undergone similar transformations. Each time she saw it, it had changed, and now it bore the mark of a true master.

At first, it was purely wild and untamed, claws and fangs bared. Later, it gained a measure of steadiness, becoming heavier and more profound. This time, it had acquired an air of elegance, yet the earlier defiance and stability were not entirely lost—the combination was uniquely flavorful.

This distinctive script, born from his unique understanding of martial arts, was difficult to imitate... It also reflected his changing temperament, from a fledgling to his current growth. From the attitude of one who thought she should offer some support, looking down from above, to now being held and kissed by him day after day—she had grown used to it.

Tang Wanzhuang pursed her lips.

Zhao Changhe asked, “How is this answer? Please instruct me, Master.”

Tang Wanzhuang finally focused on the content. As she read, she sighed softly: “Your understanding is sufficient... Though the prescription still follows ancient formulas without your own innovations, it proves you have memorized the pharmacopoeia thoroughly. At this level, even if your martial arts were crippled, you could change your name, open a clinic, and never worry about food.”

Zhao Changhe chuckled: “If I were crippled, I’d be dead. Why speak of such things?”

Tang Wanzhuang found the topic inauspicious and dropped it, saying softly, “How many days have you been studying medicine with me?”

Zhao Changhe counted: “Ten days.”

Yes, the two of them had been holed up in the prefect’s mansion, not stepping out, for ten days.

“Only ten days.” Tang Wanzhuang sighed again. “Truly a prodigy.”

Zhao Changhe looked at her without speaking.

A prodigy?

Though understanding martial arts facilitated understanding medical theory, and his robust spirit made memorization easy, ten days was still too short to reach this level. He had been studying day and night. Was it because he was a prodigy?

Tang Wanzhuang saw the meaning in his eyes and turned her head slightly, unwilling to speak.

Now that he had made his feelings clear—“I like you”—such words were meaningless.

Zhao Changhe said, “All matters in Xiangyang are settled. Your meridians have improved these days, even better than before you were injured. I can leave with peace of mind.”

Tang Wanzhuang hummed in acknowledgment.

Zhao Changhe continued, “I’ll head to Hongnong tomorrow morning. Should I go alone, or will you come with me?”

Tang Wanzhuang’s heart stirred.

She had been feeling a touch of sorrow at parting, but this remark dispelled it, replaced by a hint of joy.

She had forgotten the option of going together. Now she realized it was indeed possible. Xiangyang was stable; the new prefect appointed by the court would arrive tomorrow. After handing over, there was no reason to stay.

She could go. No separation.

Delighted, she found a pretext with a straight face: “Indeed, I should accompany you. The Yang of Hongnong do not share the bond you have with the Cui of Qinghe. Relying solely on Yang Qianyuan’s goodwill is insufficient to sway a family’s course. Moreover, the Wang family will likely send someone this time. You would struggle to handle even Wang Daozhong alone. With my help, things will go much smoother.”

Seeing her stubborn little act, Zhao Changhe’s heart itched. He couldn’t help but say, “Master, you just tested my medical skills. Now that I’ve passed, shouldn’t we proceed with the treatment? Only after I’m healed can I fight Wang Daozhong...”

“Ah?” Tang Wanzhuang glanced around in slight panic. Baoqin was not there. She sighed and trotted over to close the door: “Treatment is treatment. Why say it so loudly... Even injured, I could easily bully Wang Daozhong...”

Seeing her standing before him with her lips slightly pouted, Zhao Changhe found it both amusing and exasperating.

The treatments over this period had been remarkably effective, leading this elder sister to accept such therapy as the norm.

In truth, the need for mouth-to-mouth qi transfer had long passed. It had only been a temporary measure in the early stages, when he hadn’t mastered the Return Spring Technique and needed dual cultivation as an aid.

Now, with his medical skills advancing rapidly and his command of the Return Spring Technique growing more precise, such methods were no longer necessary. He could use his hands to channel the technique’s healing power into her meridians, soothing her ravaged lung channels.

Dual cultivation had always been a supplementary method, not the core. The true foundation was the regenerative power of the Return Spring Technique. And Tang Wanzhuang, freed from the clutter of worldly affairs these past days, had been able to rest—a prerequisite for healing.

But both he and she had grown so accustomed to the kiss-based treatment that it felt wrong not to begin with a kiss.

If you truly insist on the correct method, then shall we engage in some real dual cultivation?

Zhao Changhe's heart itched, but he dared not say so. He just kissed her gently and murmured indistinctly: "Master, have you forgotten the purpose of the assessment just now... once I pass, I can examine your body..."

Tang Wanzhuang stiffened all over, gritting her teeth: "No, absolutely not. Even if your medical skills reach divine levels, don't ever think that day will come!"

The next moment, his palm came from behind, pressing on the Feishu acupoint on her back, as if the sensation of golden needles piercing through the acupoint emanated. His art of rejuvenation could now simulate others' golden needle acupuncture techniques, producing an even stronger stimulating effect.

Tang Wanzhuang's ravaged meridians received a strong sense of revival and nourishment. Stimulated, she let out a moan, swallowing all her stubborn refusals back into her belly, leaving only "mmm, mmm" sounds that made even herself blush.

In her heart, she was also lamenting.

Yesterday, the small mouth; today, the jade back.

Tomorrow, when she rises and looks, where will Zhao's troops have arrived?