Chapter 9: The One Favored by the Gods

After pondering for quite some time and finding no better solution, Lu Ming decided to finish the tasks at hand first.

He took out his phone, snapped pictures of the Fiery Blood Construct and the Ring of Eternal Spring, then opened a martial artists’ forum app called the Martial House Discussion Board.

This forum was the largest of its kind in the world, dedicated to the discourse of martial arts. Here, practitioners from various schools, ancient martial families, overseas Chinese, and mysterious figures gathered, each more formidable than the last.

As a martial artist himself, Lu Ming often browsed this forum, observing the myriad debates and discussions about the martial path.

Such items belonged here more than anywhere else.

Registering a new account under the name “Divine Favored,” Lu Ming uploaded the two photos with explanatory notes, pricing each item at one hundred thousand. If multiple people wanted to buy, the highest bidder would win.

Given their attributes, one hundred thousand was a paltry sum.

But Lu Ming considered that, with such fantastical items, most people would simply laugh them off.

The price was set low for this reason; to the heirs of martial families, one hundred thousand was negligible. They might buy just to try their luck.

As soon as someone acquired one, its effects would surely cause a stir. Then, the following items would not be sold at such prices.

As long as there were enough offerings, the old dragon would never lack treasures like these, and the profits would be endless.

Having settled everything, Lu Ming yawned, sleepiness overtaking him. Without even removing his clothes, he collapsed onto the bed and drifted off.

The next day.

Lu Ming, in his general store, called Yun Ketian.

Not long after, Yun Ketian rushed in, breathless and anxious.

Lu Ming took out the Spring Water, handed it to Yun Ketian, and said, “Have the patient drink this when you get home. It should resolve the issue, and there’s even a chance it could extend their life. Our debts are settled.”

“What? It might extend his life?” Yun Ketian stared at Lu Ming in disbelief.

“Yes, but how much depends on the patient’s fate.”

“This… this…” Yun Ketian could hardly believe what he heard.

He looked at the small bottle of unknown material, filled with milky-white liquid, gripping it tightly.

Lu Ming’s words were too miraculous, making Yun Ketian feel as if it were unreal.

Still, with his father’s life hanging by a thread, he had no choice but to trust.

Without further pleasantries, he hurriedly bid farewell to Lu Ming and rushed home.

His father was recuperating at home. He needed to get back quickly and have him drink it. If it truly worked, it could change the fate of both families.

At this moment, in the living room of Yun Shenguo’s home, a distinguished elderly man in his sixties, dressed in traditional attire, with youthful features and white hair, was carefully checking Yun Shenguo’s pulse.

Mu Weizhen sat nearby, her expression tense, as if awaiting the final verdict from the judge.

This elderly man was Ye Fengchun, a master physician from the capital whom Mu Weizhen managed to invite through connections.

Ye Fengchun was a leading figure in Chinese medicine, with disciples across the country and numerous published papers, renowned both domestically and abroad.

He was also the exclusive health consultant for the highest leaders in the nation. His status in the medical world was unparalleled, and even in political circles, he was extraordinary.

Normally, Mu Weizhen’s status would never suffice to invite such a master, but she spared no expense, mobilized every connection she could, and after many requests, the venerable physician agreed to assist.

Now, Mu Weizhen’s nerves were stretched to their limit, dreading Ye Fengchun’s pronouncement of hopelessness.

That would truly be the end for them.

After a while, Ye Fengchun, who had been frowning as he examined the pulse, released Yun Shenguo’s wrist and glanced at the two, not speaking immediately.

Mu Weizhen was anxious, but dared not speak first.

Yun Shenguo, seasoned as he was, managed to maintain some composure despite his terminal illness.

“Master Ye, please speak frankly. Birth, old age, sickness, and death are the way of nature. I am prepared.”

Hearing this, Ye Fengchun nodded approvingly, stroked his three-inch white beard, and said, “With such magnanimity, perhaps there is still hope for your condition.”

“Really, Master Ye?” Mu Weizhen blurted out before Yun Shenguo could respond.

Ye Fengchun nodded, “Cancer is indeed incurable, but there are rare instances of complete recovery.”

“So what do you suggest?” Hearing there was hope, Yun Shenguo could no longer contain his excitement.

“I’ll prescribe you some medicine. Take it as directed, but most importantly, stay optimistic. A good mood strengthens the immune system and increases the chances of recovery.”

Yun Shenguo and Mu Weizhen nodded repeatedly, full of gratitude.

Ye Fengchun took paper and pen from his medical kit and began writing the prescription.

He knew well that such illnesses had recovery cases, but those were million-to-one odds—almost impossible. He was simply doing his utmost.

He wrote a prescription to invigorate qi and blood, handed it to Yun Shenguo, and said, “I’ll stay here for a few days. If there’s any issue, you may seek me at any time.”

Yun Shenguo quickly replied, “That’s wonderful. I’ll arrange your accommodation.”

Ye Fengchun waved his hand, “No need. My disciples heard I’m here and insist on seeing me, saying they wish to fulfill their filial duties. I couldn’t refuse, so I’ll stay with them. No trouble to you.”

“Master Ye, your disciples are everywhere.”

“Not at all.” Ye Fengchun stroked his beard and prepared to leave.

Just then—

The door was suddenly flung open. Yun Ketian burst in, breathless and agitated, exclaiming, “Dad, your illness can be cured!”

“Such disorderly conduct!” Mu Weizhen immediately scolded her son for his impetuousness.

Yun Ketian realized there was an outsider present and quickly composed himself.

“This is Master Ye from the capital, here specifically to treat your father. Show your respect,” Mu Weizhen demanded sternly.

“Greetings, Master Ye,” Yun Ketian said softly.

“Good, good. Young man, you just said your father’s illness can be cured—what’s that about?” As a physician, Ye Fengchun was naturally intrigued and asked without hesitation.

Yun Ketian glanced at his parents, feeling timid and hesitant to speak.

The matter was too fantastical, and with an outsider present, he felt embarrassed.

Mu Weizhen urged, “Master Ye is asking you. Speak up.”

Seeing his mother’s stern gaze and knowing his father’s condition must not be delayed, Yun Ketian spoke, “Dad, Mom, I obtained this bottle of miraculous water from a master. He said drinking it could not only cure your illness but also extend your life.”

He handed the Spring Water to his father as he spoke.

“Utter foolishness!” Mu Weizhen snatched the bottle from her son and hurled it to the ground, furious.

“How many times have we told you not to associate with those charlatans? Yet you refuse to listen and even believe in such absurdities! You’ve utterly disgraced the Yun family!”

“No!” Yun Ketian cried out in distress and rushed to pick up the bottle. Fortunately, whatever it was made of, it hadn’t shattered. Yun Ketian breathed a sigh of relief.

Seeing her son’s stubbornness, Mu Weizhen grew even angrier, shaking her head repeatedly.

“Useless child, go to West Hill Residence and reflect on your behavior at once!” Mu Weizhen’s face paled with anger, her chest heaving.

As the first lady of Northwest Province, raised in a scholarly family, she had never been so furious.

With her husband suffering from a terminal illness and her son so naïve as to trust the ways of quacks, she felt both grief and rage.

Yun Shenguo’s face was full of disappointment. At this critical juncture, his son’s behavior truly let him down. If he were gone, how could his son survive in the political world with such gullibility?

Seeing his parents’ anger, Yun Ketian suppressed his sense of injustice and dared not argue further.

Lu Ming’s Spring Water was spoken of in such miraculous terms that, to be honest, he himself had doubts.

But considering the case of Huo Yutong and the matter with Ye Qi Meiyu, Lu Ming didn’t seem a fraud.

Besides, if his father drank it and it didn’t work, what harm could it possibly cause?