Chapter 3: Biding Her Time, She Enters the Lu Household
The thunderstorm was dying down, the rain washing the sky clean until the world felt scrubbed raw and cold, left in a sharp, quiet stillness. But the silver needle between Su Qingwan’s fingers hadn’t been put away. Its cold, metallic edge was still pressed against Lu Ting’s throat, piercing through the expensive dark fabric of his robe.
Raindrops slid off the eaves and splashed against the blue stone tiles, kicking up tiny dust. The air was thick with the smell of wet earth and a faint, sharp tang of blood. Lu Ting’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His gaze was deep, still as a dark pool. “You want to dig into the old case? Fine. But I’ve got a condition.”
Su Qingwan’s voice was ice. “Speak.”
Lu Ting dropped his voice, letting it carry a weight that refused to be ignored. “Within three days, I want to see a plan for clearing out the Lu Family’s old debts.”
Su Qingwan’s brow lifted. A flash of mockery slipped through her eyes. She slowly pulled the needle back, flicked the needle with her finger, and let it drop. It hit the floor with a sharp *ting*, the sound echoing in the dead quiet of the room. “Lord Lu, you’re trying to set me up.”
Lu Ting didn’t answer. He turned and walked to the window. The rain had eased up outside. His back was straight as a pine tree, hands clasped behind him, staring out at the blurry lights in the distance. “It’s not a trap. It’s a test.”
Su Qingwan smoothed the hem of her clothes, her movements fluid and calm, her tone completely flat. “I don’t owe anyone my life. I’ll treat your sickness, but only if you stand up and talk to me like a normal human being.”
Lu Ting whipped around. A streak of viciousness flashed in his eyes, as if she’d stepped on some forbidden nerve. “Fine. I’ll let you stand and talk, and I’ll let you kneel while you collect your pay.”
He waved his sleeve. Two men in black clothes shot out of the shadows and held up a rusty, old copper key. A broken piece of hemp rope was tied to it, worn thin from years of use.
The leader of the black-clad men spoke in a low voice. “Sir, the key to the medicine warehouse is taken.”
Lu Ting looked at Su Qingwan, his fingers tapping casually against the window frame. “The old medicine warehouse is full of moldy, useless stuff. It’s the cheapest base material from your family’s ancestral recipes. If you want to prove your value, start there.”
Su Qingwan took the key. She didn’t say thank you. She just turned and pushed the door open. The hinges groaned a dull, heavy complaint, and she disappeared into the depths of the rainy alley, leaving only the silhouette of her umbrella swaying in the downpour.
Three days later, the abandoned medicine warehouse reeked of mold. Su Qingwan closed her eyes, then opened them just a slit. Golden light swirled deep in her pupils, looking like countless fine threads weaving through the air.
Her fingers brushed over the rows of dusty medicine jars. Where she touched, dust rained down. The golden light in her eyes condensed sharply. “Poria, three years old, roots intact. Astragalus, the skin layer isn’t rotten, the medicinal potency is still there.”
Lu Ting stood on the raised platform, arms crossed, watching coldly. His figure looked completely out of place in the dim, run-down warehouse, but no one dared to come up and tell him to leave.
Su Qingwan flipped through the medicine jars with one hand, moving incredibly fast, like a butterfly weaving through flowers. She tossed out all the defective herbs, keeping only the best parts. Her breathing was steady, her energy pulled inward, as if the mountains of rot surrounding her had nothing to do with her.
Lu Ting spoke, his voice light. “You’re too slow.”
Su Qingwan didn’t turn around. Her voice was cold. “If you’re complaining about the speed, Lord Lu, feel free to do it yourself. Remember, the nature of medicine is like a person’s heart. You can’t rush it.”
Lu Ting stepped closer. His boots crunched softly on the rotten wooden floorboards. His finger tapped a jar of Notoginseng. “This jar looks rotten, but inside, it’s still alive. If you can’t extract it, you lose.”
Su Qingwan glanced at him. The light in her medicine eyes flared, instantly locking onto the core of the Notoginseng. She flicked her wrist. When she pulled it out, there wasn’t a single crumb left. It was perfect.
Lu Ting’s expression shifted slightly, but he kept his face blank. “Winning once doesn’t mean you can win Jingcheng.”
Su Qingwan tucked the Notoginseng into her bag. “I don’t need to win Jingcheng. I just need to keep my clinic open.”
Lu Ting let out a cold laugh, turned, and left. His robe swayed, bringing a wave of sharp, bloody wind with him. In the enclosed space, it was painfully strong.
The next evening, at the entrance to the clinic, Zhao Dezhu blocked Su Qingwan’s path with a bunch of big, rough guys. The setting sun hit the heavy jowls on his face, making him look even more terrifying.
Zhao Dezhu was spitting while he talked. “Girl Su! Paying your debts is the law of nature! Do it smart. Hand over that secret formula, and the boss will round down your total!”
Su Qingwan stood inside the doorway, her face unchanged. She didn’t look like she was facing a pack of wolves; she looked like she was facing a light, unimportant breeze. “Zhao Dezhu, you’re selling forbidden herbs. Do you have no idea how bad that is? This formula—if you actually understood it, you wouldn’t dare mess with it.”
Zhao Dezhu looked tough but was scared inside. He stepped forward, his cloth shoe grinding against the mud on the threshold. “Less talk! No money? We’re coming for your signboard!”
Su Qingwan raised her hand and pulled out a crystal-clear medicine pill. She tossed it toward Zhao Dezhu. The pill arched through the air, catching the fading light and glinting with an alluring sheen.
Her voice was like ice. “This is Qingxin Powder. Specifically made for the greedy, lecherous bosses in the black market. Take a bite. If it tastes bitter, it’s fake. If it tastes sweet, it was brewed with my own blood and effort.”
Zhao Dezhu froze. He subconsciously caught the pill and popped it in his mouth. His eyes went wide instantly. The effect hit him hard. He shuddered all over, his face turning from red to pale.
His voice shook. “This… this taste…”
Su Qingwan turned her back to him. Her tone was flat. “The taste is right. Your debt is settled.”
Su Qingwan slammed the ledger on the table, her finger pointing at the numbers. The ink was still wet. “First debt. Cleared.”
Outside, Zhao Dezhu’s face was purple. He spun around and sprinted away, his figure vanishing into the dusk, leaving only a string of panicked, hurried footsteps.
Su Qingwan slumped into her chair, her chest heaving violently. A layer of cold sweat broke out on her forehead. That throw had looked easy, but it had drained her spiritual energy completely.
She let out a bitter laugh and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Dust Discernment is powerful, but it hurts the body in the end.”
At the same time, in a high-rise building in Jingcheng, Lin Ruoyun crushed a teacup. The shards cut her finger, and blood dripped onto the pristine white desk, shocking to look at.
She let out a cold laugh, her voice dripping with chill. “Su Qingwan? That trash the Lu Family kicked out? She actually dares to open a clinic in Jingcheng?”
A subordinate outside the door bowed his head, his voice hesitant. “Senior Sister, she didn’t just open a clinic. She settled Zhao Dezhu’s debt. Her business is booming.”
Ice filled Lin Ruoyun’s eyes. The blood from her finger dripped onto the floor, blooming into dark red flowers. “Send the order. I want her to leave Jingcheng.”
The subordinate hesitated. “Senior Sister, Lu Ting seems to be protecting her…”
Lin Ruoyun sneered, picking up the largest piece of ceramic and playing with it in her hand. “Protecting her? He just wants a medicine boy. I’ll show him what a real master physician looks like.”
Su Qingwan got back to the clinic, the lamps burning a dim yellow. She took out the box Lu Ting had secretly sent as a thank-you gift. She ran her finger over the medicine box; the wood felt warm and smooth.
Lu Ting was standing at the entrance of the alley, not crossing the main gate, just watching in silence. The cool night wind after the rain blew his hair.
Su Qingwan pushed the door open and stopped for a second when she saw his back.
Lu Ting turned around, holding a box of rare Lingzhi mushrooms. “This is the thank-you gift. And a test.”
Su Qingwan took it. Her fingertip touched the box lid. Her medicine eyes instantly saw through the wood, scanning inside. The texture was clear, but there were hidden impurities.
Her brow furrowed. She tossed the box back into Lu Ting’s arms. “The year is wrong. This is two-year-old stuff. How dare you lie to me?”
Lu Ting’s pupils contracted, then a complex emotion surfaced in his eyes—surprise, and a hint of apprecation he couldn’t hide. “You… can actually see the age?”
Su Qingwan crossed her arms and looked straight at him. “Lu Ting. Between us, there’s no shelter. Only deals.”
Lu Ting was silent for a long time, then nodded. “Fine. Deal it is.”
In a dark alley nearby, Zhao Dezhu was whispering to a woman in black. The woman wore dark clothes, her face hidden in shadows, but the corner of her mouth curled in a creepy smile.
The black-clad woman was Lin Ruoyun’s confidante. She stroked her hair. “Mr. Zhao, once this is done, we’ll wipe out your debts too.”
Zhao Dezhu rubbed his hands together, greed shining in his eyes. “Miss Ruoyun, rest assured. That Su Qingwan will be on her knees in front of me before long.”
The night deepened. Suddenly, the main gate of Su Qingwan’s clinic was blasted open by a massive force.
The cold wind rolled in, carrying thin rain. Standing at the entrance was Lin Ruoyun.
She was wearing white, her face stunningly beautiful but cold as ice. Behind her were several black-clad men disguised as patients. Their eyes were vicious, hands resting on their waists.
Lin Ruoyun’s gaze cut like a blade, straight into Su Qingwan. “Little brother, your clinic should close up now.”
Su Qingwan stood behind the counter, her fingers hooked around silver needles. Gold light flickered in her eyes, reflecting the smell of medicine filling the room.
She stood up slowly, her voice terrifyingly calm. “Senior sister, you’re right on time. Let me see just how patient you are, you so-called ‘First Female Medical Doctor.’”
Lin Ruoyun sneered. She didn’t argue, just waved her sleeve. The black-clad men stepped forward. The big guys instantly dropped their disguises and pulled out short daggers coated in poison. The cold light danced in the dim clinic, freezing the air. They spread out in a fan shape, blocking every way out, every step carrying deliberate pressure, as if they wanted to crush the small clinic underfoot.
“Qingwan,” Lin Ruoyun took a step forward, her toe tapping the floor. Her voice was crisp but freezing to the bone. “I know you’ve had luck lately. Even a big shot like Lu Ting is willing to block your debts. But in this Jingcheng, only the rules of the Lin Medical Sect count.” She reached out and plucked a sprig of herbal medicine from in front of Su Qingwan. “This ‘Red Ginseng’ hasn’t had its impurities removed. The potency is strong, but it’s easy for it to turn toxic. Do you dare use it to treat a VIP?”
Su Qingwan didn’t look at the herb. She stared straight at Lin Ruoyun’s right hand, hidden in her sleeve. In the vision of her medicine eyes, Lin Ruoyun’s qi and blood were churning, mixed with an abnormal, dark purple hue. It wasn’t a sign of poisoning. It was a side effect of taking some extreme, secret medicine to suppress her heart pulse for a long time.
“Senior sister is mistaken,” Su Qingwan said, her voice so calm it was scary. “Senior sister Ruoyun’s heart pulse is damaged. You’re forcing your energy to push back the heart demons. The trembling under those white clothes is hidden a bit too deep.”
The room went silent. Lin Ruoyun’s face changed instantly. Shock and panic flashed in her eyes, then were replaced by even deeper murderous intent. She snarled. “You’re looking for death!”
Before she finished speaking, silver needles shot from her sleeve like a snake from a hole, aiming straight for Su Qingwan’s throat. In the last possible second, Lu Ting shot in from the doorway. He blocked with a long sword, the blades crossing, sparks flying. Taking the chance, Su Qingwan flickered out of the way. She didn’t counterattack. Instead, she pulled a bottle of black medicine powder from her robe and threw it at their feet.
With a boom, thick white smoke instantly filled the entire clinic. The black-clad men couldn’t open their eyes, choking. In the mist, Su Qingwan’s cold voice echoed. “Lu Ting, back off. I will not let this go today. Since you’re forcing my hand, I’ll show you what’s cruel beyond the ‘compassion of a doctor.’”
She slowly raised her hand. Gold light exploded from her fingertip. In the smoke, it looked like a single, unquenchable spark. It pointed directly at Zhao Dezhu, who was trying to sneak up in the chaos.
Outside the window, a dark shadow slipped across the roof. It didn’t stop, but rushed toward the highest point in Jingcheng, disappearing into the vast night.