It was always awkward to have Bo Jixi keep sending her to the Lian family every time, but Qin Chaoyu didn’t know how to drive. After learning about this situation, Lian’s parents took the initiative to offer to pick her up and drop her off.
From the start of the treatment, Qin Chaoyu had been extremely busy. She had never taken any medical case as seriously as this one. Every day after returning from the Lian household, she would review medical books on acupuncture for paralysis to reinforce her memory, then practice the techniques on her own arm.
As the ancient saying goes, “A master craftsman can teach the rules, but cannot make one skillful.” Therefore, the first step for every TCM practitioner learning acupuncture is to dare to practice on themselves. The efficacy of acupuncture lies in technique, and the skill of technique lies in practice. When Qin Chaoyu first began studying TCM, her master had told her that acupuncture takes effect through the practitioner’s hand techniques. Depending on the purpose, different techniques must be used—such as the depth of insertion, the intensity of force, the range of twisting, and the speed of manipulation—all requiring specific skills. To truly master acupuncture, one must practice diligently. Simply listening to the master’s words or studying theoretical knowledge from books would never lead to genuine proficiency.
To give Qin Chaoyu a deeper understanding of what skilled needlework felt like, her master had once demonstrated acupuncture on her. It was a simple relaxation session, but his movements were swift—each needle inserted with a single motion. Over thirty needles later, Qin Chaoyu had only felt slight pain, followed quickly by sensations of soreness, numbness, heaviness, and swelling. These sensations spread far and wide, and after the needles were removed, all she felt was comfort. This left a profound impression on her. Later, her master told her with regret that his skill was still not the pinnacle. A true master would make the patient feel no pain at all—the needles would be inserted before they even realized it, achieving high efficacy with complete safety.
From then on, Qin Chaoyu made painless treatment her goal and practiced daily. At first, her movements were clumsy. The pure silver needles she used were soft, and without proper technique, she couldn’t even insert them properly. Later, when she finally managed, it felt like stabbing her flesh with an awl—excruciating pain with little therapeutic effect. Now, while her skill couldn’t be called top-tier, it was still impressive enough to surpass many acupuncture practitioners.
When Qin Chaoyu first started practicing in her dorm, Bo Pengpeng and the others were shocked, thinking she was self-harming due to some trauma. They frantically tried to stop her. Qin Chaoyu found their reaction both amusing and touching, and she had to explain in detail that she was practicing acupuncture.
It was the first time Bo Pengpeng and the others learned that studying TCM required such dedication—practicing on oneself. Seeing Qin Chaoyu’s arm covered in needles, they shuddered as if feeling the pain themselves.
The results of her diligent practice were evident. At the very least, she was now adept at performing acupuncture on Lian Huijie.
One day, after a session, Qin Chaoyu carefully collected the needles, sterilized each one, and placed them back in the case.
Lian Huijie lay on the bed, watching Qin Chaoyu’s focused profile, his heart stirring slightly. Over these days, as he gradually regained sensation in his legs, he felt a renewed hope for the future. He knew exactly who had brought this change and was deeply grateful.
For someone who had been trapped in darkness for so long that they had lost all hope, a single beam of light would be clung to with immense gratitude. But such profound gratitude could easily evolve into other emotions. Whether Lian Huijie’s feelings now held something beyond gratitude, even he might not know.
Perhaps only time would tell.
A month into Qin Chaoyu’s treatment for Lian Huijie, the Spring Festival drew closer. Yuzhou University had already gone on break, and Qin Chaoyu returned to her villa in Yuping Garden. With no academic distractions, she devoted herself entirely to Lian Huijie’s treatment, barely noticing the approaching holiday until Lian’s parents reminded her.
After that day’s session, Qin Chaoyu updated Lian’s parents on his progress. His recovery was better than expected, so the next phase of treatment might begin one or two months earlier. From the next day onward, acupuncture wouldn’t need to be as frequent—once a week would suffice.
Lian’s parents didn’t fully understand the implications. They didn’t realize how astonishingly fast this recovery was for paralysis treatment. Qin Chaoyu’s initial timeline had already been remarkably short, and now it was being expedited further. All they knew was that their son would walk sooner, and that alone made them overjoyed.
The high efficiency of the treatment was partly due to the medicinal herbs from Qin Chaoyu’s space. She hadn’t used the spiritual spring—not out of reluctance, but because the herbs’ effects were already extraordinary. Adding the spring might raise suspicions even if Lian’s parents didn’t know the usual recovery time for paralysis.
After bidding farewell to Lian’s parents and returning home, it was already 9 p.m. The empty house suddenly made Qin Chaoyu feel a pang of loneliness. She chuckled wryly, thinking she was just too idle. Maybe she should visit Tuantuan in the space.
The space had transformed dramatically. Qin Chaoyu had planted many flowers of various species, adding color to the once-monotonous environment. She hadn’t planted them for mere decoration—flowers were also medicinal in TCM, useful for treating ailments and making skincare products. The medical texts in the space covered everything, including beauty recipes. Despite her calm demeanor, Qin Chaoyu was still a woman, and no woman disliked becoming more beautiful. She had tried making some products, with decent results.
Apart from flowers, the space was dominated by fruits and vegetables. These plants grew rapidly, yielding harvest after harvest. Qin Chaoyu had no time to eat them all and didn’t know whom to give them to. Fortunately, unharvested produce stayed fresh indefinitely, or the space would have been overrun.
As for medicinal herbs, though they didn’t grow as fast as vegetables, there were plenty. Precious herbs didn’t need immediate harvesting—the older they were, the more valuable. Common herbs, however, were useless if left too long and only took up space, so she harvested and processed them into medicines or ointments.
Entering the space, Qin Chaoyu picked a bunch of wild grapes and ate them as she walked around. In the distance, Tuantuan bounded over and leaped onto her shoulder, clutching a pine nut. To give Tuantuan a home in the space, Qin Chaoyu had planted Korean pines. Unbound by seasons, all plants thrived simultaneously, so every pine tree was laden with nuts—much to Tuantuan’s delight, as space-grown pine nuts were far tastier than ordinary ones. The squirrel begged daily to be let in for a feast and always insisted on taking some out when leaving.
“Squeak!” Tuantuan nuzzled Qin Chaoyu’s neck with its head while munching on the pine nut.
Its soft fur tickled Qin Chaoyu, but with one hand holding the grapes, she could only laugh and push its head away with her free hand. “Tuantuan, that tickles. Stop it.”
Tuantuan was clever and understood human emotions to some extent, but it was still just an animal. Misinterpreting Qin Chaoyu’s push as rejection, it grew sad, dropping its beloved pine nut and chirping mournfully.
Startled by its distress, Qin Chaoyu tossed the grapes aside and cradled Tuantuan, soothing it gently.
Tuantuan cared for nothing as much as Qin Chaoyu—even its favorite pine nuts paled in comparison. Once comforted, it immediately perked up, retrieved its fallen nut, and resumed eating contentedly on her shoulder.
The space was quiet and uneventful. For someone accustomed to the bustling outside world, its silence might be unbearable. But Qin Chaoyu, naturally serene, found the tranquility conducive to deep thought. Whenever she had time, she would study medical texts here.
This time, however, she couldn’t focus. An hour passed without absorbing a single page—whereas before, she’d have finished ten. Restless and inexplicably irritable, she decided to leave with Tuantuan, as staying longer wouldn’t improve her efficiency.
The moment she exited the space, her phone rang.
It was Bo Pengpeng.
Why was Pengpeng calling at this hour? Though time flowed differently in the space, Qin Chaoyu had stayed long enough that it was likely past 10 p.m. Why wasn’t Pengpeng asleep?
Puzzled, Qin Chaoyu answered. Bo Pengpeng’s lively voice burst through: “Chaoyu! Chaoyu! Let’s go out tomorrow!”
“Go out? Where? What’s there to do?”
“Spring Festival’s almost here! The streets will be lively! Also, I have a gathering tomorrow—come with me, please?”
“A gathering? I—”
Hearing the hesitation, Bo Pengpeng cut in hastily, “Just come! You’re always cooped up at home—that’s unhealthy! Life is about movement. How can you ‘move’ if you stay indoors?” To persuade Qin Chaoyu, Bo Pengpeng racked her brain for arguments—more effort than she’d put into finals.
Relenting, Qin Chaoyu agreed. Since she couldn’t focus on studying anyway, a day out might clear her mind. “Alright.”
“Yes!” Bo Pengpeng cheered. “Then it’s settled—I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow. Don’t stand me up!”
Even through the phone, Qin Chaoyu could picture Bo Pengpeng’s beaming face. After hanging up, she checked the time and, deciding against further activities, headed to bed with Tuantuan.
On the other end, Bo Pengpeng was thrilled at her success. After a semester together, she knew how much Qin Chaoyu valued quiet. While admirable, Qin Chaoyu lacked the youthful exuberance typical of her age—she was mature and composed beyond her years, making Bo Pengpeng feel like the younger one. Outsiders might praise this, but as someone close, Bo Pengpeng only felt heartache. She had been trying to show Qin Chaoyu the world’s vibrancy, hoping to spark some liveliness in her.
Tonight, she’d plan tomorrow’s outing carefully, aiming to give Qin Chaoyu a wonderful day.
Grabbing her freshly made milk, Bo Pengpeng headed to her room—she’d brewed it to help her sleep but had spotted the landline and called Qin Chaoyu on impulse.
Turning around, she jumped at the sight of Bo Jixi behind her. Clutching her chest, she gasped, “Brother! What are you doing? You scared me!”
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