Warren Moran lifted the old fisherman’s corpse, set it atop the stag’s back, and urged the stag to catch up with Quinn Shepherd and the Imperial Preceptor, shouting, "Preceptor, I will avenge my master!"
The Imperial Preceptor turned, very seriously, and said, "Your master’s skills are not bad. Once you’ve mastered them, before seeking revenge on me, pass them on to your own disciple. Do not let his legacy die out."
Warren Moran gave a shout, clouds formed beneath the stag’s hooves, and it ran into the air, gradually disappearing.
Someone invited Little Jade Capital’s kindly old master to test the waters—his death was not undeserved.
The Imperial Preceptor withdrew his gaze and said to Quinn Shepherd and the others, "Little Jade Capital is a mysterious place, ancient and aloof. I’ve only heard rumors before—this is my first time meeting one of their masters. They do have some skill, but they’ve fallen behind the times. They rarely venture out, don’t witness the evolution of other sects’ arts, and shut themselves away, so it’s easy to become outdated. Remember this: closing yourself off will never make you a true master."
Quinn Shepherd and the others nodded in agreement, but felt a chill in their hearts.
So this old fisherman was brought out to test the waters?
Did they use the old man’s life to probe how deep the Imperial Preceptor’s waters run?
This battle has already begun, Quinn thought, his eyes flashing.
Leaving City.
The Everpeace Empire’s army had already reached this place; by the time they arrived, the battle was over.
The fighting must not have been fierce. Quinn looked around and saw the city walls mostly intact. The Everpeace army simply advanced, encountered the rebels outside, and annihilated them.
The Imperial Academy has specialized halls for formations and military strategy. In a direct clash, Jianghu sects cannot hope to match the Everpeace legions." He thought to himself.
Leaving City had not been destroyed by war; the commoners here were still safe. Quinn Shepherd went to the pharmacies to gather herbs, taking a few from each garden in town.
After visiting over a dozen gardens, half a day had passed. By nightfall, Quinn and the others stayed at the Leaving City county yamen. The magistrate had been captured and sent to the capital.
Soon, the scent of medicine drifted from the yamen. Half an hour later, a maidservant came out with a basin and dumped medicinal dregs onto the stone road.
Another half hour passed, and the maidservant brought out another basin of dregs, dumping them on the road for people to trample.
This happened repeatedly—seven basins of dregs were dumped over the course of the night.
After dawn, Quinn and the others rested another half day before continuing south.
At a Leaving City pharmacy, a middle-aged scholar in a blue robe with white underclothes stood behind the counter, flipping through a dozen prescriptions—the very ones Quinn Shepherd had filled at each pharmacy.
No, no, some of these herbs are completely useless, and some aren’t even for healing—this kid is sharp...
The middle-aged scholar looked up and laughed, "No wonder he’s called the little divine doctor of the capital—he doesn’t want me to see how badly the Preceptor is injured from his prescriptions. Cunning! But he’s underestimated me, Daoquan True Person."
"Master, the dregs have arrived!"
Several young pharmacists came in, each carrying a basin of medicinal dregs.
Daoquan True Person inspected each one, sneering. After a moment, he calculated, "This little divine doctor is clever indeed—he mixed in other dregs on purpose, so I wouldn’t know how far he’s gotten with the Preceptor’s treatment. But playing tricks like this in front of me, you’re still too green. Disciples, gather the herbs!"
He called out the names of various herbs. The young pharmacists quickly fetched them, and Daoquan True Person pondered for a bit, sorted the herbs, rearranged them several times, and, satisfied there were no mistakes, ordered his disciples to start refining medicine.
Several hours later, Daoquan True Person looked over his results. The first medicine was a fierce decoction; the second, a paste for external use to draw out poison; the third, a tiny silver-white pill bristling with spikes—just touching it would let the metal qi sting your finger.
The fourth was a milky-white vapor condensed in the furnace; the fifth, a small cup of dark-red liquid that evaporated quickly; the sixth and seventh were spirit pills, each with a different effect.
After checking all seven medicines, Daoquan True Person’s expression shifted and he praised, "This little divine doctor is remarkable, truly remarkable. With this treatment plan, in as little as twenty days or as long as half a year, no matter the Preceptor’s injuries, he’ll be healed!"
He packed up the seven medicines, stamped his foot, and leapt into the air, streaking away as a ray of light.
That streak of light flew south for half a day, covering two or three thousand miles, before descending on Daley City.
Daley City was the largest city in the Southern Frontier. In the past, it was a country devoted to Buddhism, with 3,600 temples, earning the title 'Southern Little Western Paradise'—until it was annexed by Everpeace.
Daoquan True Person landed before the grandest temple, Radiant Light Temple, and strode inside. A dozen cult-master-level figures rose to greet him.
"Daoquan True Person is here!"
The leader, a man in a bronze mask, came forward, laughing, "Daoquan True Person, you must bring good news this time!"
"Indeed."
Daoquan True Person laid out the seven medicines and said, "In the duel between the Imperial Preceptor and Zane the Hermit of Little Jade Capital, the Preceptor killed Zane but was surely wounded. Now he travels with the little divine doctor, so I reasoned that the medicines used for his treatment would reveal his injuries. These seven medicines are what the little divine doctor prepared for him last night—please, have a look."
Minister Miles Marsh of the Grand Traveling Secretariat asked in surprise, "Daoquan True Person, you’ve always considered yourself the greatest in pharmacology, above even the Poison Prince. Why do you now call a mere youth ‘divine doctor’?"
Daoquan True Person replied solemnly, "I used to think highly of myself because no one else matched me in medicine—most were mere quacks who only knew a few prescriptions. Even the Poison Prince just inherited the Jade-Faced Poison King’s skills, with little innovation, and I despise him for betraying his own master. But this little divine doctor truly deserves the name."
He pointed at the first medicine, "This is a decoction made from dozens of herbs, half of them toxic. It stimulates the soul’s vitality and treats soul injuries. Was the Preceptor’s soul wounded?"
An old man, panting, said, "He was indeed injured. I wounded his soul with the Pure Yang Thirty-Six Heavenly Star Fiend Art, but he also struck me."
Daoquan True Person said, "That decoction is precisely for treating his soul wounds—very appropriate. The second medicine is a paste. Did the Imperial Preceptor suffer external injuries, and was there fire poison?"
An old crone grinned, "Master, your guess is spot on. My technique harbors fire poison. When I ambushed the Imperial Preceptor, I struck his back."
"The little divine doctor’s paste can draw out the fire poison."
Daoquan True Person pointed at the third medicine, "This spirit pill contains metal qi, extremely sharp. It must be for gu poison or wood poison. Who wounded the Preceptor with wood or gu poison?"
Another old man chuckled, "When the three of us ambushed the Preceptor, I used gu poison."
"That explains it."
Daoquan True Person continued, "The fourth medicine is used by steaming. The Preceptor was injured in his Seven Divine Treasuries, and the medicine couldn’t penetrate, so the little divine doctor turned the medicine into vapor and steamed him in a basket."
The cult masters in Radiant Light Temple burst out laughing, "Why didn’t he steam the guy well-done?"
"Besides that, there were hidden ailments left, so the little divine doctor used acupuncture. The needles were hollow, filled with the fifth medicine, which evaporated quickly and seeped into his skin."
Daoquan True Person pointed to the sixth medicine, "This one is a solid pill, to consolidate the treatment’s effects. The seventh is a tonic to replenish the Preceptor’s body. After this analysis, it’s certain: the Imperial Preceptor is not yet healed."
He sighed in admiration, "But give this little divine doctor a month, and the Preceptor will be restored to peak condition, fully healed, with no hidden ailments left behind!"
Palace Master Delia of Leaving-Love Palace frowned slightly and said softly, "Everyone, it seems the Preceptor’s injuries are worse than we expected."
The man in the bronze mask laughed, "That’s because he faced Zane the Hermit from Little Jade Capital. I knew Zane well in my youth, but after he joined Little Jade Capital, we saw each other less. Zane was a peak Divine Bridge expert, not far below the Preceptor."
Daoquan True Person said, "Zane the Hermit from Little Jade Capital is dead. The Preceptor killed him. When I was in Leaving City, I sensed the shockwaves of their clash from the mountains."
Palace Master Delia fixed her gaze on the masked man, as if trying to see who lay beneath. "You used your old friendship to lure Zane out and send him to his death—your schemes run deep. You’ve always worn a mask, never dared show your true face. You betray friends and hide in the shadows. If you ever betray me, I might not even know who did it."
"Palace Master Qiu, you can rest assured—he’s absolutely trustworthy."
Delia turned to the speaker—it was Che Zhengli, lord of Three Marvels Fortress, father of Consort Cher from the capital.
Since his rebellion, Consort Cher had been implicated and was now in the Cold Palace, her fate unknown.
Delia replied calmly, "Just because you say he’s fine doesn’t make it so, Fortress Lord Che. Don’t forget, you’re imperial kin yourself."
Che Zhengli’s face changed. He was about to speak when an old crone suddenly laughed, "Palace Master, this man’s identity is not in question."
The speaker was one of the three old powerhouses who ambushed the Preceptor. With her assurance, Palace Master Delia could only hold her tongue.
"Since the Preceptor is truly gravely injured, should we give him time to recover?"
The man in the bronze mask swept his gaze around. "He sent General Harold Ho to us, offering two paths. Now it’s time to decide—which road will we take?"
——Zhai Zhu overestimated his health; spent the afternoon dizzy, drifting in and out of sleep, so there won’t be a third update today. Sorry. It’s mid-month, and this sickly author begs for votes~