On the Nine Profound Continent, Xuanxiao, now sporting his goatee, had already made a name for himself across dozens of nearby cities. For a hundred purple crystals, there was no ailment in the world he could not cure, and he had also settled down and opened a Medical Hall.
Inside the Medical Hall, Xuanxiao rubbed his chin and thought, There have been more and more difficult illnesses lately, and the injuries are getting stranger and stranger. They're becoming harder to treat. Hmm, after all, the patients I treated before were all people I had beaten up myself at night. Now, many of them were beaten by others, so naturally, they take more brainpower to treat. Still, it's fine. After all, I'm a successor of the Taiqing Pill Dao. There's no problem I can't cure.
While Xuanxiao was thinking, several more patients arrived, each bearing all sorts of injuries. The first to enter was a young man dressed in a plain-colored robe. His cultivation seemed decent, barely at the peak of the Saint Grade—somewhat stronger than his cheap master back when Xuanxiao had been in the Lower Realm.
Xuanxiao then raised a finger and pressed it against the man's wrist, pretending to take his pulse. In reality, he scanned the man's entire body with his spiritual sense. After looking him over, Xuanxiao coughed and said, "Brother, your left shoulder was injured by fire-element Blade Qi, and then your spleen and lungs were wounded by a lightning-element technique? Just what kind of expert did you offend to suffer such injuries?"
"Ahem, physician, don't ask too many questions. Just focus on treating me. Asking too much won't be safe for you either," the young man said with a cough.
"All right, all right. Your injury won't be easy to treat. I need Spiritual