Chapter 69:

Returning to school, Qin Chaoyu couldn’t wait another moment and immediately began poring through her sect’s medical texts, hoping to find relevant treatment methods or at least similar cases.

Qin Chaoyu wasn’t foolish. Before leaving the Han family, she had spoken with the doctor who had accompanied Han Yixun and learned that his injury had been caused by a weapon called a “gun.”

Though this weapon had existed for quite some time, its widespread use had only occurred in the last century. Therefore, she only needed to search through medical records from the past hundred years.

Given that her country had suffered through war in the previous century, and considering her sect’s obsession with medicine, she was certain they must have studied wounds caused by such weapons. Perhaps they had even left behind a medical text or two.

True to her expectations, Qin Chaoyu eventually found records on gunshot wounds among the stack of books her master had left her.

There were still three days until Saturday. The medical text was thick—about the width of her hand when stood upright. For most people, finishing such a book in three days, let alone a week, would be impossible, not to mention studying it thoroughly.

But who was Qin Chaoyu? With her extraordinary memory, she could finish a medical text like this in a single day.

As Qin Chaoyu buried herself in research, her roommates, like Bo Pengpeng, moved quietly around the dorm, careful not to disturb her.

Meanwhile, Gu Qiuyan was restless with anxiety. Every day, she checked the date, counting down to Saturday. Time had never felt so slow, but at last, the day arrived.

Early that morning, she sent a driver to fetch Qin Chaoyu.

Upon arriving at the villa, Qin Chaoyu wasted no time. Meeting Gu Qiuyan’s hopeful gaze, she said simply, “It can be treated.”

Gu Qiuyan exhaled sharply, her tense nerves finally relaxing. Her body trembled slightly from the sudden release of tension.

Han Shuying quickly steadied her mother, her eyes filled with concern.

Frowning, Qin Chaoyu observed Gu Qiuyan’s complexion and said, “Help your mother to the sofa. I’ll check her pulse.”

Han Shuying nodded blankly, only realizing after settling her mother that they were supposed to be treating her brother. Why was Qin Chaoyu examining her mother instead?

But seeing the seriousness on Qin Chaoyu’s face, she didn’t dare interrupt.

Despite being younger, Qin Chaoyu seemed far more mature than Han Shuying.

Gu Qiuyan waved it off. “I’m fine—just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Mom!” Han Shuying cut in disapprovingly. “Let Dr. Qin check you over.”

“Alright, alright.”

After a brief examination, Qin Chaoyu said, “Your mother has been mentally and emotionally exhausted, and the recent emotional highs and lows have taken a toll. But it’s nothing serious. I’ll prescribe a remedy—three days of treatment, once a day, and she’ll recover.”

Han Shuying nodded eagerly, committing the instructions to memory.

Gu Qiuyan patted her daughter’s hand. “Thank you, Dr. Qin.”

“It’s my duty as a doctor.” Qin Chaoyu wrote out the prescription and handed it to Han Shuying. “Get the herbs from Tongrentang Pharmacy—their quality is reliable.”

Gu Qiuyan stood with Han Shuying’s support. “We’ve delayed long enough. Now, the most important thing is treating my son.”

Han Yixun was gazing out the window, watching the scenery. With limited mobility, he had little to occupy his time—perhaps the most idle period since joining the military.

It was late autumn, and the villa was surrounded by towering poplar trees. The wind rustled through the leaves, sending them fluttering to the ground in golden heaps. The season mirrored his current state—withered and uncertain. But while the leaves would return in spring, he didn’t know if he ever would.

When Gu Qiuyan entered, her heart ached at the sight of him.

“Son, Dr. Qin is here. She’s found a way to treat you.” She sat by his bedside, her eyes tender.

Han Yixun nodded calmly. “Let her in.”

His attitude was indifferent. He had no confidence in walking again, so he resigned himself to his parents’ efforts—whether it was doctors, medicine, or anything else. Obedience was the last form of filial piety he could offer.

Once inside, Qin Chaoyu requested that Gu Qiuyan and Han Shuying leave the room. Understanding, they suppressed their worries and reluctantly stepped out.

Qin Chaoyu warned, “This treatment will be extremely painful. You’ll need to endure it.”

Han Yixun nodded dismissively. Years in the military had hardened him to pain—he could handle it.

But he hadn’t anticipated just how unbearable it would be. His bones seemed to crack and splinter, as if struck repeatedly by a sledgehammer. The agony was relentless.

Gripping the sheets, teeth clenched, veins bulging on his forehead, he barely stifled a scream.

By the time Qin Chaoyu finished, he was drenched in sweat, collapsed on the bed like a drowned man.

“Finally… over,” he thought weakly.

Impressed that he had remained conscious and silent throughout, Qin Chaoyu regarded him with approval.

This man had grit.

She knew exactly how excruciating her method was.

She also noted the numerous old injuries hidden beneath his skin. Even as a martial artist, she had her share of hidden wounds, though her master’s medicinal baths and massages had minimized them. But Han Yixun’s body bore even more—evidence of a life pushed to its limits.

These old injuries, harmless in youth, would torment him in old age.

Normally, they wouldn’t be an issue, but treating his spinal paralysis was already difficult. The hidden injuries were like boulders on a path—impossible to bypass. The only solution was to remove them.

After much deliberation, she had settled on a “break and rebuild” approach.

Using her internal energy, she stimulated his meridians, realigned his bones, and then shattered and reconnected them. The process was risky—once broken, bones were hard to mend properly, and improper healing could lead to lifelong complications.

To prevent this, she infused his body with her own vital energy—a life force that nourished and protected his bones and meridians throughout the process. The downside? It demanded an immense amount of internal energy.

If not for her spatial cheat, she would have balked at the cost.

“Turn over. After this, you can rest—or sleep. When you wake up, the treatment will be complete.”

Han Yixun rolled onto his stomach, grimacing. Sleep? In this state? Unlikely.

Yet, against his expectations, he drifted off.

The moment Qin Chaoyu’s hands pressed into his legs, warmth flooded his body, melting away the lingering cold from old injuries. It was blissful—like floating on clouds. Exhausted, he surrendered to sleep.

For twenty minutes, Qin Chaoyu channeled her energy into him. When she withdrew her hands, he was sound asleep.

Asleep, Han Yixun looked nothing like his usual self—stern, unyielding, always on guard. Instead, he seemed peaceful, like a child cradled in safety.

But Qin Chaoyu had no time to admire the sight. She was too busy mourning the loss of her precious energy.

Even if only a fraction remained in him, the benefits would last a lifetime. The thought made her heart ache.

While he slept, she took out her needles for the final step—acupuncture.

This technique, called the “Hundred Tremors Needles,” required each needle to vibrate a hundred times before removal. Unlike soothing treatments, these needles caused mild stinging and itching, tempting patients to scratch—which would dislodge them. Hence, she had insisted Han Yixun sleep through it.

Sixty-four needles formed a faint Tai Chi pattern on his back, each placed with precision.

An hour later, the needles completed their tremors, and she removed them.

Next, she applied an ointment from her medical kit—a blend of century-old ginseng, mugwort, and other rare herbs.

The white paste, smooth and cool at first, gradually warmed against the skin, its fragrance a mix of floral and medicinal notes.

After spreading it evenly over Han Yixun’s back, Qin Chaoyu quietly left the room.