Peach Blossom Dual Cultivation

Zhou Lang was a medical student, known for his meticulous nature. After briefly reflecting on the earlier events, he quickly understood the situation and loudly declared, “General Qin, Master Fangzhi, I am not an assassin. You two have overreacted.”

“You… you’re not here to assassinate General Qin?”

Aside from Zhao Xiaorou, everyone was surprised, and Master Fangzhi, still tense, asked with disbelief.

“I’ve seen General Qin on TV and in newspapers. He’s one of the people I respect most. Why would I want to assassinate him?”

Zhou Lang smiled.

“Master, please don’t accuse me without reason. I can’t bear such a charge.”

“Could we have been mistaken? But we received intelligence that an assassin from Japan knew General Qin was here and sent a top killer to assassinate him.”

The four men Zhou Lang had previously knocked down had now all stood up. The leader, still doubtful, spoke up. Since Zhou Lang hadn’t intended to harm them, they were unharmed.

No wonder General Qin’s guards were so on edge. Hearing this, Zhou Lang finally understood the full situation.

“Master, if you were an assassin, no one could stop you. My head would probably have been taken by you already, so why bother with all this talk?”

The elderly General Qin, sitting in his wheelchair, laughed, clearly believing Zhou Lang’s words.

“General Qin, you’re wise. I’m just here with my friend to enjoy ourselves.”

Zhou Lang breathed a sigh of relief, though he was curious. A few years ago, he’d seen General Qin on TV, still walking with a strong stride. But now, in such a short time, the General was in a wheelchair. Given his renowned martial skills, even at over ninety, he should still be vigorous.

“Master, I overreacted, causing General Qin’s guards to act against you. My apologies,” Master Fangzhi said with hands clasped together.

“If you don’t mind, please come into the temple to talk.”

General Qin Jingyu was a founding general of the country, hailing from Yunnan Province. When the Japanese forces invaded Yunnan, he and his troops defended it to the death, leaving the battlefield littered with enemy corpses, thus sparing Yunnan from destruction.

It’s said that during one hand-to-hand battle, he single-handedly killed a fifty-man Japanese squad, earning him immense respect among the people of Yunnan. Though decades have passed, no one forgets his deeds.

Such a history of blood and fire made Zhou Lang deeply admire this iron-willed general, so he nodded and, with Zhao Xiaorou, entered the temple.

“Master, young lady, please sit down. I don’t yet know your names,” General Qin said politely after they entered the temple. Despite his rank, he showed no airs, treating Zhou Lang and Zhao Xiaorou with great courtesy.

“I’m Zhou Lang, and she’s Zhao Xiaorou,” Zhou Lang replied after sitting down.

“General, you are a respected elder. To have you call me Master is too much to bear.”

“Master Zhou, my rank may be high, but your skills are superior. There’s no harm in us being brothers,” General Qin said with a wave and a smile. “There are countless generals, but few young men have become cultivators as early as you. You’re one in a million.”

With the General saying this, Zhou Lang didn’t argue further and instead asked, “General, have you returned home to rest?”

“I still serve as an advisor in the military. Retirement isn’t an option yet. But due to this leg condition, I came to the Feiyun Temple to seek treatment from Master Fangzhi.”

General Qin sighed deeply, clearly troubled by his leg condition for some time.

“May I ask if Master Fangzhi has a treatment for your leg condition?” Zhou Lang asked, looking at the master.

Master Fangzhi’s two disciples and General Qin’s four guards were on alert outside the temple, leaving only the master and a young man pushing General Qin’s wheelchair inside.

“My medical skills are limited, and my cultivation isn’t deep enough. There’s little I can do,” Master Fangzhi replied.

“How about I take a look at the General’s leg?”

Zhou Lang offered, deeply respecting the General. Now that he had learned all the medical techniques from the Dual Cultivation Manual, he was an exceptional physician.

Life can be unpredictable. Just a few days ago, he was an ordinary college student who could be humiliated. But now, he was a cultivator, a highly skilled person.

“Brother Lang, you know medicine too?”

Zhao Xiaorou asked in surprise.

General Qin and Master Fangzhi had yet to speak, but Zhao Xiaorou’s surprise was evident. If she hadn’t been too shocked when Zhou Lang saved her from Duan Xiaohu or bent a steel pipe like it was nothing in Wei Ge’s KTV, the earlier exchange between Zhou Lang and Master Fangzhi would have stunned her. Master Fangzhi had instantly recognized Zhou Lang as a cultivator, and it seemed she wasn’t an ordinary girl; she knew the weight of the word “cultivator.”

“I know a little.”

Zhou Lang smiled.

“Did you forget that I’m a medical student?”

“Where do you study, Master Zhou?”

Master Fangzhi asked.

“I’m currently a third-year student at the Medical School of Yunnan University, majoring in clinical medicine,” Zhou Lang replied truthfully.

“So many divine doctors in the capital have been stumped by my grandfather’s leg condition, and even Master Fangzhi, whose medical skills are unparalleled, couldn’t find a cure. Master Zhou, can you do it?”

The young man pushing General Qin’s wheelchair spoke. He was about 1.8 meters tall, with a steady presence that exuded the air of a military descendant. However, his tone was full of doubt toward Zhou Lang.

“Watch your manners,” General Qin immediately scolded the young man. Then he turned to Zhou Lang and said, “Master Zhou, this is Qin Pojun, my only grandson. Please don’t mind him. Now, I’ll trouble you to examine my legs.”

If Zhou Lang hadn’t shown such powerful skills earlier, he, as a mere medical student, wouldn’t have had the chance to treat a founding general. No matter how high his medical skills were, no one would believe him. Qin Pojun’s doubt was due to Zhou Lang’s youth.

“General, you’re too kind.”

Zhou Lang stood up and approached General Qin, rolling up his pants leg.

He was met with a shocking sight. The General’s legs were thin and severely atrophied, explaining why he could only sit in a wheelchair.

“General, how long have you had this leg condition?”

Zhou Lang asked after closely examining it.

“My legs were injured in the war. They’d hurt on rainy days, but I was too busy with military affairs to pay much attention. I didn’t expect the condition to worsen suddenly three years ago, leaving me like this,” General Qin lamented.

The medical techniques recorded in the Dual Cultivation Manual flashed through Zhou Lang’s mind. After a brief thought, he asked Master Fangzhi, “Master, do you have silver needles for acupuncture here?”

“Master Fangzhi has already tried acupuncture,” Qin Pojun interrupted.

“Each method is different. It wouldn’t hurt to try again,” Zhou Lang smiled.

Master Fangzhi said nothing and went to his meditation room to retrieve a box of silver needles, encased in an antique wooden box.

“General, I’m going to begin the acupuncture now.”

Zhou Lang took out nine silver needles of varying lengths. Holding them, he felt no unfamiliarity. Although he had only studied the Dual Cultivation Manual for one night in the ancestral coin’s Heaven and Earth Palace, he was already thoroughly familiar with everything it recorded.

General Qin nodded, and Zhou Lang’s hand moved.

His slightly delicate hand moved so quickly that the people around him were momentarily dazzled. In less than a second, the nine silver needles were already inserted into nine acupuncture points on General Qin’s right leg.

“The Nine-Turn Soul-Returning Needle Technique!”

The elderly Master Fangzhi exclaimed in shock.