Time always passed quickly during school days, and in the blink of an eye, it was the weekend again.
Early Saturday morning, Lin Hai pushed open the doors of the Chen-Style Chinese Medicine Clinic, and the wind chimes gave a crisp ring.
He took a deep breath. The familiar fragrance of herbs filled his lungs: the bitterness of angelica root mingled with the smoky scent of moxa, along with Master Chen's favorite Tieguanyin tea.
"Here already?" Chen Bing looked up from behind the medicine cabinet, his hair neatly combed. "The Dendrobium Orchids in the backyard need watering. New York has been rather dry lately."
Lin Hai nodded, set his backpack on the wicker chair in the corner, and headed for the backyard.
After all this time, the plants in the neighboring Herbal Plant Shop had grown noticeably lush—almost unnaturally so. Chen Bing was neither blind nor stupid; naturally, he could tell something was off, and naturally, he had guessed that Lin Hai possessed some special abilities.
After all, in the United States of this Marvel Universe, there was S.H.I.E.L.D., while Huaxia had S.P.E.A.R.
Although S.P.E.A.R. was also a secret organization, Chen Bing, as the direct disciple of a Chen-Style Taiji martial arts family, could still access some surface-level information.
Therefore, Chen Bing knew that some people in this world possessed superhuman abilities. Not long ago, based on the abnormalities at the Herbal Plant Shop, he had roughly guessed that Lin Hai was one of them.
But so what? Lin Hai was also from Huaxia, and more importantly, he was Chen Bing's first disciple. Chen Bing took it in stride. Since Lin Hai had not brought it up, he could not be bothered to ask.
In the backyard, Lin Hai crouched before a row of orchid-like plants, his fingertips gently brushing across their leaves. The Dendrobium Orchids trembled slightly at his touch, their pale purple blossoms unfurling at a visible speed. He closed his eyes and sensed the energy the plants returned to him.
"Lin Hai! Come out front! We have an emergency!" Chen Bing's shout interrupted his meditation.
Lin Hai hurried back to the front hall and saw a burly middle-aged man holding an unconscious teenager. Sweat covered the man's forehead, and the front of his short-sleeved shirt was soaked through.
"Please, look at my son!" the man pleaded hoarsely. "He's been like this since last night. Those damn gangs!"
Chen Bing had already pulled out the examination bed. "Lay him flat and tell me slowly."
Lin Hai helped settle the teenager onto the bed. The boy looked about fifteen or sixteen. His complexion was bluish, his lips an unnatural purplish-black, and his breathing faint but rapid.
He rolled up the boy's sleeve and discovered several suspicious needle marks on the inside of his forearm.
"A new drug!" The man clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, his voice shaking. "Devil's Breath, that's what they call it. Those punks specifically lure kids near schools into trying it for the first time!"
Chen Bing checked his pulse, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. "His heart and lung function are severely suppressed, and he's having a toxic liver reaction. Lin Hai, bring the silver needles and some detoxification powder."
Lin Hai quickly prepared the acupuncture kit. At the same time, he discreetly pulled a small cloth pouch from his pocket—it contained special Licorice roots cultivated with his energy. This enhanced Licorice possessed dozens of times the detoxifying effect of ordinary varieties, but it had never been tested on a human.
Chen Bing began the acupuncture, precisely inserting silver needles into points such as the philtrum, Neiguan, and Zusanli. Taking advantage of the moment, Lin Hai pressed a small slice of Licorice root beneath the boy's tongue.
"What does that do?" the man asked nervously. As a regular customer of the clinic, he did not question a treatment like acupuncture.
"It clears the mind and opens the orifices, detoxifies the body, and strengthens its vital energy." Chen Bing focused completely on manipulating the silver needles and did not notice Lin Hai's small movement.
Three minutes later, the boy's eyelids began to twitch. Five minutes later, he coughed violently and spat out a black substance that looked like both clotted blood and phlegm.
"Oh God!" The man dropped to his knees beside the bed, tears spilling from his eyes. "Marco? Son? Can you hear me?"
After a while, the boy slowly opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. "Dad? What happened to me...?"
Chen Bing let out a long breath. Even he was somewhat exhausted as he removed the needles. "The critical period has passed, but he'll need to continue taking medicine to purge the toxins."
He turned to Lin Hai. "Go prepare a dose of Coptis Detoxification Decoction. Add... wait." He suddenly lowered his voice. "What did you give him just now?"
Lin Hai's ears reddened. "Just some modified Licorice, to help with detoxification."
Chen Bing gave him a deep look but said nothing more. He only nodded. "Add five qian of Poria and three qian of raw Licorice."
Lin Hai spent the entire morning brewing medicine and monitoring the teenager's condition. By noon, Marco could already sit up and eat porridge, and the bluish tint had faded from his face.
His father, Antonio, was an Italian-American auto mechanic. He kept gripping Dr. Chen's hand and thanking him over and over.
"Doctor, this is a miracle! Those kids who inhale Devil's Breath at the hospital stay unconscious for at least three days! Whether they wake up is entirely in God's hands! You saved Marco's life! You saved mine too!"
Chen Bing modestly waved a hand. "Chinese medicine has thousands of years of experience with detoxification." He then added seriously, "But the real cure is staying away from drug dealers and gangs."
Antonio nodded. After taking out his wallet and paying the medical bill, Chen Bing said, "When you have time, take the boy somewhere fun. Let him eat some good food and tell him that life is far more wonderful than those drugs."
After seeing off the endlessly grateful father and son, Lin Hai was about to tidy the examination bed when Dr. Chen suddenly pressed a hand onto his shoulder. "That 'modified Licorice' of yours—just how modified is it?"
Lin Hai swallowed. "Not that much. It just grows a little faster, and the concentration of its active ingredients is a little higher." His voice lacked confidence.
"My dear eldest disciple..." Dr. Chen sighed. "I know you have some 'special talents,' but you need to be especially careful when using them on patients. Clinical trials are a hurdle the medical field can never avoid. We got lucky today, but what if there had been an adverse reaction?"
Lin Hai lowered his head and admitted his mistake. "You're right. I just saw that the kid was in critical condition, so..."
Even though he did not believe there would be any adverse reaction, he knew his master was concerned for him, so he readily admitted fault.
"A doctor's compassion is not wrong, but there must also be proper methods." Dr. Chen's tone softened. "Tell me first next time, all right?"
Lin Hai nodded, but he kept thinking about the drug called Devil's Breath. To cause such severe toxicity in such a short time, it could not possibly be an ordinary street drug.
Three evenings later, Lin Hai was sorting medicinal herbs in the clinic after school when the front door was suddenly shoved open, making the wind chimes ring sharply. He looked up to see five burly men in black suits filing inside.
"Is Dr. Chen here?" asked the bald man in the lead, his voice like sandpaper scraping against wood.
Lin Hai set down the medicine grinder, his fingers quietly hooking around a packet of anesthetic powder hidden beneath the counter. "The doctor is out on a house call. Is there anything I can help you with?"
The bald man did not answer. Instead, he surveyed the clinic, his gaze lingering over the medicine cabinets and acupuncture charts. "Our boss would like to invite Dr. Chen and his little assistant over as guests. We heard you cured someone poisoned by Devil's Breath?"
The hairs on the back of Lin Hai's neck stood up. These men did not look like they had come seeking treatment. "That was merely an ordinary Chinese medical treatment. If your boss needs medical care, he can make an appointment during clinic hours."
"Little brother," the bald man said with a grin, revealing a gold tooth, "this isn't a request."
Two suited men moved toward the counter. Lin Hai's fingers tightened, and just as he was about to scatter the anesthetic powder, the clinic door opened again—Chen Bing entered, carrying his medical case.
"What's going on?" Chen Bing frowned at the roomful of uninvited guests.
"Dr. Chen!" The bald man immediately put on a fake smile. "Our boss, Mr. Kingpin, would like to invite you and your disciple to dinner and discuss a medical partnership."
Lin Hai's pupils contracted sharply. Kingpin! From what Lin Hai knew, Kingpin was the emperor of New York's underworld—a massive man made entirely of muscle, a monster capable of punching through concrete walls with his bare hands. He just did not know whether Kingpin was already that powerful at this point in time.
Chen Bing, however, remained expressionless. "I appreciate the invitation, but the clinic is closed at this hour, and we do not make house calls at night. Please leave."
The bald man's smile vanished. "Sir, perhaps you did not hear clearly. This is an invitation from Mr. Kingpin."
"I heard clearly." Chen Bing set down his medical case, his voice calm but firm. "Now please leave my clinic."
The atmosphere instantly froze.
Lin Hai saw the two suited men reach toward their waists. Maybe they were reaching for batons, but guns were far more likely.
There was no time to think. Lin Hai swept the medicine mortar off the counter, and a cloud of mixed powder from dozens of herbs immediately filled the room. At the same time, he vaulted over the counter and struck the nearest suited man's carotid artery with a precise knife-hand blow.
"Lin Hai! Don't!" Chen Bing's shout was drowned out by the sounds of fighting.
The next twenty seconds were like a choreographed martial arts scene. Lin Hai's figure flickered in and out of the herbal powder haze as he pushed Taiji Footwork, Cloud Hands, Cannon Fist, pushing, coiling, and other techniques to the utmost limits of his current ability.
Every strike sent another suited man down. It was the result of a perfect combination of his Tai Chi skills and physical abilities.
"Get out," Lin Hai told the men on the floor in a low voice. "Tell Kingpin that doctors only treat ordinary patients, not gangsters who commit every kind of evil!"
After the five suited men staggered away, supporting one another, the clinic fell into a tense silence. Chen Bing's face was ashen, and his hands trembled slightly.
"Master, I..." Lin Hai had just begun to explain.
"Kneel!" Chen Bing barked.
Lin Hai dropped to his knees before the medicine cabinet. Chen Bing picked up the ruler and struck his palm three times.
"The first strike is for rashly resorting to violence! A doctor must be compassionate; bloodshed is a great taboo!"
"The second strike is for not knowing your own limits! Those men had guns. What if you had been hurt?"
"The third strike..." Chen Bing's hand stopped in midair. In the end, he sighed and set down the ruler. "The third strike is forgiven. You were trying to protect me, and your intentions were good, but your method was wrong."
Lin Hai's eyes burned. "Master, those people weren't ordinary patients. They were gang members."
"I know who Kingpin is." Chen Bing helped him up. "But remember this: no matter what you do, force must always be the last choice. Especially for doctors like us."
Lin Hai lowered his head and acknowledged the lesson, but he knew this would not end so simply. Kingpin clearly would not give up after being refused once.
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