Chapter 252: Two Places of Healing (Part 2)
“Using Holy Light Technique to stop bleeding and regenerate flesh, then using Dustless Purifier to calm the mind and settle the spirit—is that enough? These two still have so many turbulent true essence clusters in their meridians. If no effort is made to clear them out, when they wake from this sleep, their cultivation might drop by thirty percent. Some people think that by casually learning a few techniques, they can heal the sick and save the injured—that really won’t do.”
Chen Changsheng spoke to himself as he moved his needles like the wind.
Zhe Xiu looked down at him from above and said, “You could replace ‘some people’ in that first sentence with ‘her.’”
Chen Changsheng finished his work, stood up, and looked at him very seriously as he explained, “I’m not trying to compare myself with her.”
Zhe Xiu replied with equal seriousness, “I don’t believe you.”
Chen Changsheng felt his face grow a bit warm. He said nothing more and prepared to wake the two Southern cultivators so they could head to the riverbank to rejoin the others.
Just then, he noticed something drawn on the ground by the campfire. After careful examination, he recognized it as a route map, along with a simple line of text.
The handwriting was decent.
He silently remarked to himself.
“She told them to go to Riverside Forest Lodge. It seems many people are gathering there.”
Zhe Xiu looked at him and asked, “Should we go?”
Without a moment’s thought, Chen Changsheng replied directly, “No.”
Zhe Xiu asked, “Why?”
“I… still have things to do… there are still many people… waiting for me to treat their injuries… alright.”
Chen Changsheng stood up, fell silent for a long time, and then said somewhat sheepishly, “I’m not ready yet.”
The white ceremonial robe was especially striking in the night. If it had been in the alleys of the mortal world, it might have been frightening, but in the eyes of cultivators, this white robe was like the special signal flares of the Azure Thirteen Divisions and Saintess Peak—it represented hope for survival and the end of suffering.
Along the way, the young girl had already heard two cries of surprise, brimming with tears of joy. So when she saw the cultivator by the campfire on the grassy slope remain so calm, she felt momentarily unsettled. Only after a moment did she realize why—the cultivator was in meditation.
She approached and saw that the cultivator’s wounds had already been bandaged. Judging by the angle of the injury and the method of bandaging, it wasn’t self-administered treatment. She was about to turn and leave, but recalling something, she crouched down again, undid the bandages, and examined the wound beneath.
The wound appeared to have been inflicted by some artifact from the Hall of Ancestral Worship. The skin around the wound still bore traces of what was commonly called star dust—residue from the Hall’s artifacts. But the star dust had been cleaned away extremely thoroughly by the person who treated the wound, and the wound itself had been handled excellently, sewn together with some kind of thread.
The young girl thought to herself that the person who treated the wound was very bold. Although there were records of such methods in the Daoist Canon and the Pharmacopoeia, no one had done this in years.
The external injury seemed fine. What concerned her more was the problem within the meridians. Being wounded by an artifact and being wounded by a sword were two different things. A sword injured the body, but an artifact injured the essence. The artifacts of the cultivation world were not as sharp and exposed as swords; their killing power mainly manifested in damage to a cultivator’s internal organs, especially the meridians.
This cultivator had been meditating ever since his external wounds were treated. It was possible that even his Sea of Consciousness had issues.
Her fingers rested on the cultivator’s pulse point, and she slowly channeled an extremely pure stream of true essence.
Stimulated by this true essence, the cultivator awoke from his meditative state. Seeing the young girl so close, he was startled and instinctively moved to strike.
The Garden of Zhou, with its cruel rules set by the sages, was indeed an excellent place for human cultivators to temper their will and enhance their combat skills.
But the young girl paid him no heed. “Don’t move, don’t speak, close your eyes,” she said.
The cultivator didn’t recognize her—at least not in her current form. Yet for some reason, hearing her voice, as clear as a spring, he felt an overwhelming sense of trust. Instinctively, he followed her instructions, relaxed, and closed his eyes again.
After a moment, the young girl stood up.
She didn’t linger. She walked off into the night.
The campfire stretched her shadow long.
When the cultivator woke again, he watched her retreating figure, his heart filled with a vague melancholy.
In that fleeting glimpse earlier, he had seen a delicate but ordinary face, one easily forgotten.
Why, then, as he watched the young girl’s back now, did it seem breathtakingly beautiful?
The young girl’s heart was also somewhat unsettled.
That cultivator’s meridians were remarkably clear. The tremors and blockages left by the Hall of Ancestral Worship’s artifact had all been resolved by someone.
Among the hundreds of cultivators in the Garden of Zhou, who was most skilled in medicine?
Who was best at such techniques? Who, at the Ethereal Opening realm, could make such fine adjustments to a cultivator’s meridians?
Unlike Chen Changsheng, she immediately knew who it was.
Still somewhat useful.
She thought silently to herself.
Hearing the sound of water, she arrived at the stream. Seeing the campfire, she recognized two people.
When they saw her, the two young girls were very surprised.
Ye Xiaolian’s eyes showed reverence, while Senior Sister Tong smiled with reassurance.
Everything could change, but not the eyes. And since she hadn’t deliberately altered her appearance this time, her fellow disciples recognized her.
She shook her head, and Ye Xiaolian and Senior Sister Tong understood, saying nothing.
She walked over to the Pure Void Temple’s temple master, unwrapped his bandages, glanced at the wound, and slowly raised her eyebrows.
“Did he treat this?”
She looked at Senior Sister Tong and asked.
Senior Sister Tong had trained with her at Southern Creek Retreat and naturally knew about the matters between her and Chen Changsheng. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what the question meant.
“I thought he might be somewhat useful, but who knew he’d make such a mess? He only treated the external sword wound, but there’s still internal bleeding—is he just going to ignore that?”
For some reason, the more the young girl thought about it, the angrier she became.
The Pure Void Temple’s temple master was very weak at the moment and had no idea what was happening. His disciple was even more confused, but seeing the attitude of the two Saintess Peak disciples, he knew the newcomer was not to be trifled with.
The young girl extended her right hand and lightly brushed it over his chest and abdomen from a distance. A holy ray of light fell from her palm.
No matter how remote the Pure Void Temple was, being a branch of the national religion, how could its temple master not recognize the Holy Light Technique?
His expression shifted immediately, confirming that this young girl was a great figure of the national religion. He hurriedly tried to rise and pay his respects.
The young girl frowned slightly and knocked him unconscious with a single blow.
The Pure Void Temple temple master’s disciple stood there dumbfounded, not daring to speak, let alone act.
“He learned a bit of medicine from Master Ji and thinks he can heal everyone in the world? Doesn’t he realize that cultivators and ordinary people are different? That sword wounds and common colds are different?”
The young girl fumed inwardly as she thought these things. She turned to Senior Sister Tong and asked, “When will he be back?”
Senior Sister Tong calculated the time. It wasn’t far from the time Chen Changsheng had promised. “He should be back soon,” she said.
The young girl hesitated for a moment, then stood up and walked into the night.
Senior Sister Tong asked, “Aren’t you going to wait for him?”
The young girl didn’t answer. She vanished silently, startling a few night birds from the forest.
(Updates may be slightly fewer over the next two days, as I need to go out for a bit.)