When a Woman Chases a Man

This was nothing but playing the lute to a cow.

Though the little girl could now recognize many characters, she still had doubts about the two words "Feathered Scholar" on the gift register.

But she did not care much. Turning around, she ran back to Shen Hui's side.

Tilting up her face, she covered her mouth and giggled.

"That man's so stupid. He doesn't even know how to write the 'Dao' in 'Daoist.'"

Shen Hui was treating an old man at the time. Hearing this, he merely paused for a moment and gave it no further thought.

The old man was around sixty, dark-skinned, with one trouser leg rolled up to his knee. On the exposed calf was a vicious boil the size of a fist.

The sore was red, swollen, and shiny, while the surrounding skin had taken on a deathly bluish hue. A yellow-white head of pus had already formed at its center, making for a horrifying sight.

Shen Hui bent down to inspect the sore. His brows furrowed slightly, then relaxed.

"It is nothing."

He said gently, "It is merely heat toxin congesting within, with external evil seeping inside and failing to disperse. Over time, it became a serious affliction."

As he spoke, he extended two fingers and traced a circle around the old man's calf, a faint wisp of fire trailing from his fingertips.

Lu Huan leaned over to watch and saw the swelling around the sore recede at a visible rate.

The pus-filled head burst with a pop, spilling a stream of murky yellow poisonous fluid that stank to high heaven.

The people around them covered their noses and retreated.

Shen Hui neither dodged nor avoided it. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve and gently wiped the afflicted area clean for the old man.