Chapter Twenty: Bring Him Here at Once

Lin Jian never expected that it truly was a wolf that hurt someone. Could it be the very same wolf from Qin Tian’s former circus? If that were the case, Qin Tian might end up being held responsible. In any event, the priority now was to return to the station and ask the chief or deputy chief to step in and get Qin Tian out.

Given the urgency of the situation, Lin Jian sped through several red lights on his way back, lights flashing. Upon arriving at the police station, he explained the situation to Deputy Chief Chen Tang, who fell into silent contemplation.

“Chief Chen, we need to act quickly!” Lin Jian urged.

“This matter requires careful consideration,” Chen Tang replied.

The current director of the Health Bureau was about to retire, and in Wushi’s political circles, who didn’t know that Zheng Zhichao was the most likely successor? As a deputy chief, offending a future bureau director would not be wise.

“Chief Chen! If you won’t help, I’ll report this directly!” Lin Jian said.

They were still keeping the news of an unknown beast inflicting bites and causing a mysterious virus under wraps—only a handful of high officials in Wushi were aware. They hoped to summon an expert team to resolve it discreetly, without escalating it to higher authorities. After all, reporting such a matter would mean losses for them.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Chen Tang glared at Lin Jian.

“I was promoted by you. We’re supposed to be on the same side. Now, of all times, don’t go stirring up trouble,” Chen Tang softened, realizing his outburst.

Lin Jian clenched his jaw. Although the city’s party secretary, Shen Mingfei, was his brother-in-law, they weren’t truly allies. Even if Lin Jian wanted to report the incident, Shen Mingfei’s people would likely stop him.

Just as Lin Jian was about to lose hope, his phone rang. When he answered, he received good news: the expert team would be there in half an hour.

Overjoyed, Lin Jian informed Chen Tang before hurrying back to the hospital.

Sun Simin, said to be a descendant of the Medicine King, was a legendary physician renowned throughout Wushi and even the nation. His miraculous skill in reviving the dying commanded awe and respect. Knowing that Sun Simin was among the experts put Lin Jian’s mind completely at ease.

He waited at the hospital entrance for the experts’ arrival. Judging by the time, they should be there in just over ten minutes.

Soon, a motorcade arrived, and over a dozen people stepped out. At their head was an elderly man, his hair snowy white, yet he exuded vigor and a healthy flush.

“Divine Doctor Sun, you’ve arrived!” Lin Jian hurried forward, even thoughtfully bringing a coat for the late hour.

“No need for formalities. Let’s see the patient first,” Sun Simin waved off the courtesy, intent on saving lives above all else.

Lin Jian nodded slightly, recognizing the breadth of Sun Simin’s heart, and immediately led him to the ward.

Inside, Li Xiaohan and the others were lounging, chatting idly and playing on their phones. The patient, meanwhile, lay utterly motionless; if not for the signs of life displayed on the monitors, one would have taken him for a corpse.

Lin Jian frowned. He found their behavior irresponsible and frivolous—chatting and playing on their phones with a critical patient in the room?

“Get them all out!” Sun Simin thundered, his anger erupting.

“Who do you think you are, you old fossil? Who are you to yell at us?” an older nurse snapped.

“You dare speak to my master like that? Get out!” A young man behind Sun Simin flicked his wrist, sending a flying needle that struck a pressure point on the nurse.

The nurse’s body convulsed, her head and neck lolling, tongue protruding, and hands twitching uncontrollably.

Lin Jian was stunned by this display. What kind of technique was this? This was incredible! He’d never imagined traditional Chinese medicine could produce such results.

“Assaulting medical staff? Are you trying to cause trouble?” Li Xiaohan glared at Sun Simin and his group.

“Blind fool! Do you not even recognize Divine Doctor Sun?” A middle-aged man behind Sun Simin bellowed.

“You—” Li Xiaohan was about to retort, but then recognized the speaker, and swallowed his words.

The man was Zhao Zhongyi, the current director of the Wushi Health Bureau.

“Director Zhao, you… what brings you here?” Li Xiaohan stammered.

“Why am I here? If this virus escapes, do you realize what kind of disaster it could cause? And you’re sitting here chatting and playing on your phones?” Zhao Zhongyi jabbed a finger at Li Xiaohan and his colleagues. “Have you all lost your minds? Are you insane?”

Zhao Zhongyi’s tirade was unrelenting. He cared nothing for Li Xiaohan’s reputation as a medical prodigy, nor for his status as deputy director.

Li Xiaohan pressed his lips together and dared not say another word.

It was true that Zhao Zhongyi was about to retire as director of the Health Bureau. But he was stepping down only to assume the post of Deputy Director of the Jiang Province Health Department—a promotion, in fact, half a rank higher than before.

Back when Zhao Zhongyi was director, Li Xiaohan never dared cross him; now, with an even higher position pending, he wouldn’t dare offend him at all.

“Get out, all of you!” Zhao Zhongyi commanded, pointing to the door.

“Go, go…” Li Xiaohan quickly signaled the staff, and one by one, with heads bowed, they filed past Sun Simin and Zhao Zhongyi, leaving the ward.

“Elder Sun, forgive us for the spectacle,” Zhao Zhongyi offered a small apology.

Sun Simin was a national treasure. To have him insulted on Zhao’s own turf was, in part, Zhao’s responsibility.

Sun Simin waved it off and approached the patient’s bed. He began by observing, the first step of “inspection” in traditional Chinese medicine.

After examining, Sun Simin frowned. A shadow of death clouded the patient’s brow—a sign that the end was near. Yet this shadow was being held at bay by some force. Clearly, a master had intervened, preserving the patient’s life.

Next, Sun Simin probed for the virus within the patient, using silver needles on various acupoints, then withdrew them to inspect. Some needles changed color, while others remained unchanged—or rather, they weren’t discolored, but coated in black viral colonies.

Sun Simin’s expression shifted, and he abruptly tore open the patient’s clothes, only to be startled by what he saw.

Clusters of small black masses surfaced on the patient’s skin—at the midpoints of the forearms, below the chest, lower abdomen, and, after loosening the trousers, on the thighs and calves as well.

Ten black clusters in all, distributed over the body.

The unknown virus had been gathered into these spots and sealed by some special technique.

If his guess was correct, this was the legendary Eighteen Dragon-Sealing Needles, a long-lost method in traditional Chinese medicine. Once employed, it sealed the “dragon” of poison within the body, preventing its spread to the limbs and organs and forcing it into isolated areas.

“Who treated this patient? Bring him to me immediately!” Sun Simin turned, his voice trembling with excitement.