Quinn Shepherd took her pulse and said, "Four months ago, when you were cultivating, did you have a bout of breath reversal? That's where the root of your problem lies."
Serena Vale nodded repeatedly and said, "I did have a breath reversal once. I thought it was a minor issue and didn't pay it any mind."
Unnoticed, night had deepened. Lanterns rose over the capital, turning darkness to day. The so-called Flower Lane was a haunt of famous scholars and visiting dignitaries, but not every establishment sold flesh; the deeper you went, the more it was about selling skill—music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, song, and dance—all enough to move the hearts of the elite.
But tonight, the notables who came to Flower Lane found the brothels empty—the alley was packed with girls, but none of the houses had any business going on. When asked, their favorites replied, "There's a divine gynecology master at Listening Rain Pavilion, and all the sisters are lining up for treatment. No time for work tonight. Young master, please come back tomorrow."
"A divine gynecology master in Flower Lane?"
Outside the alley, a large sedan chair stopped, and a plainly dressed elder stepped out, surprised. "Go ask around and see how skilled this divine gynecology master really is."
A moment later, a servant returned and reported, "Master, all the girls in Flower Lane say he's excellent—his medical skills are divine."
The plain-clothed elder pondered, while a nearby adviser whispered, "Master is thinking of the one in the palace..."
"Too many ears around—don't say more."
The elder sighed. "The one in the palace has been sick for ages. The imperial physicians are helpless and can't even name the illness. We can only hope to find a miracle doctor to prolong her life, but I fear she hasn't much time left. Words are wind—go summon Dr. Shaw and have him test this Flower Lane miracle doctor himself."
"Yes, sir!"
Soon after, Dr. Shaw arrived and bowed. "Elder, may I ask why you've summoned me?"
"No need for formalities outside Flower Lane."
The plain-clothed elder explained, "A miracle doctor has appeared in Flower Lane. Dr. Shaw, please go see his skills—see if he might cure the one in the palace."
Though Dr. Shaw's hair was white, his eyebrows were dark and his eyes bloodshot. He sneered, "What miracle doctor could there be in Flower Lane? They're all frauds, tricking women and children. Why bother seeing him?"
The elder frowned. Dr. Shaw's heart skipped a beat and he hurried to say, "Elder, I don't need to see him. Just let me look at his prescriptions." With that, he snatched a prescription from a courtesan who'd just been treated, glanced at it, and sneered, "Elder, look—he's prescribing only the cheapest herbs. With skills like these, how could he possibly treat someone in the palace?"
The elder replied unhurriedly, "Medicine isn't about price—it's about saving lives. The girls here aren't nobles; they don't have much money. Treating them with cheap medicine is real skill. Come inside with me and judge him yourself."
Dr. Shaw had no choice but to agree and followed him into Flower Lane. The lane was deep, packed with courtesans waiting for treatment. It took effort for the two men to squeeze into Listening Rain Pavilion. Inside, they saw a handsome, well-dressed youth diagnosing patients by lamplight.
Dr. Shaw sneered, "He looks fourteen or fifteen at most, out here swindling people for money. Elder, you can give up now. His pulse may seem steady, but it keeps slipping—he's suffering from qi deviation himself! Can't even cure himself, yet he's out here playing doctor! Elder, let's just go."
The elder's face was expressionless. "I told you to go—so go."
Dr. Shaw had no choice but to step forward, pushing past the women and sitting down in front of Quinn Shepherd with a swagger. He stretched out his hand and boomed, "Tell me, what illness do I have?"
Quinn was surprised. He looked up at the elder before him, didn't even take his pulse, and said gravely, "Sir, you're seriously ill!"
Dr. Shaw sneered and stood up. "A charlatan dares to act up in front of me..."
"You're an apothecary, aren't you?"
Quinn said, "You reek of a thousand medicines—clearly you've spent years steeped in drugs, breathing in their properties. You self-prescribe, soak in medicinal baths, and take all sorts of pills you've refined yourself. But your pharmacology is poor; you never balanced the toxins, and now you've accumulated hundreds of poisons in your body. Your brows are dark, your eyes red—the toxins have reached your skin and sunk into your pupils. At this stage, it's hopeless. I can't cure you. Only Lord Hades could save you now."
Dr. Shaw flew into a rage, laughing coldly. "You little apothecary—how much longer do you say I have to live?"
Quinn hesitated for a moment. "If you keep your temper, you could live a while longer. But if you get angry, your rage and all those toxins will mix, and you'll only have ten..."
Dr. Shaw grew even angrier, his voice icy. "You say I have ten days left? What if I don't die in ten days?"
Quinn frowned. "Nine, eight, seven..."
Dr. Shaw was beside himself with rage. His qi surged, shattering the medical desk in front of Quinn. He sneered, "You're saying I die right now? If I don't, I'll make sure you do!"
"Three, two, one."
Quinn had barely said "one" when Dr. Shaw suddenly felt as if knives were stabbing his heart, as though it had shattered. His cultivation spun out of control; his skin burst open, blood gushed in torrents, turning him into a man of blood. Then his body rotted away, collapsing into a pile of sludge.
"I couldn't save you."
Quinn shook his head. "You really shouldn't have gotten angry. Your skills weren't up to par, and you kept taking random medicines and refining drugs for yourself. This was bound to happen. Serena, should we report this corpse to the authorities?"
Flower Lane was thrown into chaos. The plain-clothed elder was startled, nodded quietly, then turned and left the lane.
The commotion quickly died down. Quinn stopped seeing patients and went back to his room to rest.
The next day, he treated his own qi deviation and made a full recovery, then resumed seeing patients. Soon, long lines filled Flower Lane again. Serena fretted in secret; her brothel had unexpectedly turned into a clinic.
By afternoon, Serena hurried over. "Young master, tomorrow is the Imperial Academy's entrance exam. You can't keep treating patients—you need to save your strength for the big test!"
Quinn nodded. "All right. I'll help these people after the exam."
Serena Vale couldn't help but smile and cry at the same time, whispering, "Young master, your calling isn't to be a physician!"
Quinn replied, "I'm not just healing people for its own sake. Though I've learned much about medicine, my experience is shallow. Treating these people broadens my horizons. Grandpa Apothecary taught me countless pharmacological principles, but in over a decade in the Great Ruins, I never had the chance to test them. Now, in just over a day, I've put a thousand principles to the test."
Serena felt a headache coming on. The dignified young master of the Heavenly Demon Cult, acting like a traveling doctor giving checkups to brothel girls in Flower Lane—how could this be?
At last, the day of the Imperial Academy's grand examination arrived. Quinn left Flower Lane early, asking directions to the Academy along the way.
"The Academy? It's right on the mountain in the center of the city!" someone answered.
Quinn arrived at the Academy gates and looked up in awe. The Imperial Academy, the empire's highest institution, was truly grand—built atop a jade mountain at the heart of the Nine-Dragon Range, right at the spot where the nine ridges converge like dragons clutching a pearl.
Nine dragons all holding the same pearl—what a marvel.
The dragon-qi gathered here makes the land extraordinary, and even the mountain itself has turned to jade, gleaming with beauty.
Palatial buildings with blue and red tiles dotted the mountain, and near them, several great ships hovered in the air, their sails not yet furled.
At the Academy gates, thousands of scholar-candidates from all over had gathered, waiting to enter. Beneath the imposing gate, more than a dozen clerks from the Academy were registering candidates, recording their origin and previous academies.
Quinn queued up, and by the time it was his turn to register, the sun was already high.
Quinn took out his travel pass and said, "I'm from Fairview Prefecture..."
"No, no, he's not from Fairview!"
Suddenly, a chubby youth squeezed in next to Quinn and grinned, "He's from Goldenridge, same as me! Sir, mark him down as Goldenridge!"
The clerk looked up and sneered, "We write whatever's on the travel pass. No changing your place of origin."
The youth was Wes Young. Watching Quinn finish registering his name and origin, Wes groaned, "That's rough. We came on the same ship—if you were listed as Goldenridge, you'd have had an easier time getting into the Academy."
Quinn was puzzled. "Why's that?"
Wes glanced around, lowering his voice. "Haven't you heard? Most of the candidates from Goldenridge died on the way here. Our ship got attacked by the Dragon Tamer Sect, but those who traveled by land or sky were attacked too. Only a handful made it to the capital alive. Some rebellious sects wanted to embarrass the Imperial Preceptor—he's from Goldenridge, after all..."
"Which academy are you from? What's your cultivation realm?" the clerk asked.
Quinn replied, "Family teaching, no academy. I just broke through to the Five Luminaries Realm the day before yesterday."
The clerk shook his head. "Just entered the Five Luminaries Realm and you dare take the exam..."
After registering, Quinn and Wes entered through the gates, joining the crowd of candidates. When everyone was registered, a Daoist examiner called out, "Those with true divine abilities, ascend the mountain; the rest stay below."
Soon, only martial candidates in the Spirit Embryo and Five Luminaries Realms remained below—about two thousand people.
The middle-aged Daoist led the group into the mountain. Not far in, a sheer cliff blocked the way, rising thirty or forty yards high.
There were no stairs or ropeways. You could fly up, run up, or leap—if you could jump thirty or forty yards in a single bound.
"If you can't make it, go home." The Daoist stood at the cliff's edge, gazing coldly at the candidates from all over.
"That sounds easy enough."
One candidate took a few steps back, then charged at full speed toward the cliff, trying to run up it. But as soon as his foot touched the wall, he slipped, smacked face-first into the jade surface, and split his head open.
The entire cliff was flawless jade. His blood slid right off, leaving no trace.
The candidates below the cliff shuddered: "So slippery!"
Note 1: Gynecology became a distinct discipline in Chinese medicine during the Tang dynasty. Sun Simiao advocated separating obstetrics and gynecology from general medicine, often calling it 'obstetrics' or 'women's medicine.' By the Song dynasty, obstetrics and gynecology were formally established, with one of the nine departments in the Imperial Medical Bureau dedicated to it.