Chapter 5

Readers familiar with transmigration, novel-world travel, and system-based novels know that to alter a character's fate, one must intervene before their tragic destiny unfolds. However, Song Qingshi interpreted the task as saving a character whose tragic fate had already concluded—a slight divergence in thought leading to a vast difference in approach.

In the original work, Yue Wuhuan appeared only three times:

First, when the protagonist was newly sold to Golden Phoenix Estate and witnessed Yue Wuhuan being humiliated by guests, shattering his worldview.

Second, when the naive protagonist, clinging to illusions of the future, was mocked and degraded by Yue Wuhuan, forcing him to confront his reality.

Third, at Langgan Terrace, Yue Wuhuan was offered to guests by Jin Feiren and accidentally torn apart by a Demon Tiger. Jin Feiren concealed the truth of the tiger's frenzy, framing it as a premeditated game to shatter the protagonist's last shred of dignity, breaking him into submission and reducing him to a plaything.

In short, Yue Wuhuan was a minor character with little narrative weight, an early exit meant to contrast the purity of the protagonist. His beauty was but a decadent, withering bloom—how could it compare to the pristine, unopened flower of the morning sun?

This was an absurdly simple choice any reader would make!

Had the system been sentient enough to proctor, it would have crawled out in fury and beaten Song Qingshi to death for his stupidity.

Unaware of his colossal misstep, Song the Top Student remained confident, rolling up his sleeves, determined to deliver a perfect answer!

On the way back to Medicine King's Valley, Song Qingshi fully absorbed the original body's memories, mastering its vast trove of medical and alchemical knowledge. The immortal realm had rare herbs and miraculous pills, yet their formulas and techniques resembled traditional Chinese medicine—mysterious in efficacy but unclear in mechanism.

Modern medicine systematically studies traditional practices, identifying the relationships between primary and secondary ingredients, extracting active compounds, and developing more potent, convenient medications.

A female scientist once won a Nobel Prize for such work, benefiting the world. Specializing in modern medicine, Song Qingshi's unconventional thinking quickly yielded new solutions to the original body's unresolved research—using Tiangong Pavilion to craft substitutes for modern scientific instruments, analyzing immortal medicines for active components, purifying, studying, even artificially synthesizing them...

Countless experimental designs flooded Song Qingshi's mind. Medicine King's Valley housed tens of thousands of books, inexhaustible herbs, and ample research funding.

He was as gleeful as a mouse in a rice vat, wishing he could kiss the system in gratitude.

Song Qingshi fully understood why the original body was a recluse—in such a divine paradise, he too could stay forever!

Immersed in frenzied study and research, devoting his life and soul to the god of medicine, no one could drag him back!

Gazing at Yue Wuhuan in his arms, Song Qingshi grew fonder by the minute.

This was his precious treasure, the key to everything! He would save him at all costs, just as his parents had doted on him—spoiling, cherishing, loving him, giving him all the finest things, granting him a fairy-tale prince's happiness!

Song·Paternal Love Like a Mountain·Qingshi, brimming with resolve, suppressed his excitement and settled Yue Wuhuan in his palace's side chamber. Handling everything personally, he carefully administered elixirs to revive his vitality. Changing into white robes, donning a homemade mask, and pulling on ultra-thin beast-hide gloves, he disinfected and gently cut away Yue Wuhuan's blood-caked gauze and feathered skirt. After cleansing the wounds, he sutured them with fine silkworm thread, removed the shackles, and treated the injuries.

Song Qingshi's movements were feather-light and swift, barely touching skin, yet Yue Wuhuan's hypersensitive body twitched, eliciting faint moans before he drifted back into unconsciousness. Seizing the chance, Song Qingshi collected blood samples and performed a Divine Sense full-body scan. Even his gentle temper faltered upon seeing Yue Wuhuan's ravaged *dantian* and *meridians*, silently cursing the beasts responsible. He pondered how to explain the situation upon Yue Wuhuan's awakening.

Awkward with strangers, Song Qingshi managed professional discussions but often rambled incoherently in casual talk. Once, when friends debated the hottest male idol, he earnestly nominated Asclepius, the god of medicine...

He still didn’t understand why they said he killed conversations.

After much thought, he recalled his medical internship, when his senior, knowing his social anxiety, advised: "Strip away all emotion. Act like a medical machine. Write out the diagnosis and treatment, recite it with a smile, and end with reassurance." Practicing on cadavers, Song Qingshi mastered this, facing patients calmly.

A hospital heals; so does Medicine King's Valley. What’s the difference?

Enlightened, Song Qingshi replaced Yue Wuhuan's bedding with hospital whites, ordered patient gowns, and dressed him personally. A red wristband marked critical condition; "Intensive Care" signs adorned the bed. Instantly, he felt back in the hospital, his anxiety eased.

Distrusting the attendants' skills, he took on nursing duties—meticulous, unflinching—bathing Yue Wuhuan, administering medicine, changing linens, handling waste.

Yue Wuhuan awoke three days later, disoriented, staring at the white canopy overhead. Slowly, he realized he lived, his body oddly light.

Closing his eyes, he recalled the dreamlike medicinal scent and the hands that freed him. Inhaling deeply, he wished to never wake, to escape the endless nightmare.

Suddenly, he recognized the scent. Turning, he saw Medicine King Immortal Lord engrossed in scribbled notes, frowning at some dilemma. A familiar Divine Sense Pearl lay nearby on a silver tray—proof he’d been gifted anew.

Yue Wuhuan's phoenix-like eyes narrowed. Tales of the Immortal Lord's eccentric cruelty surfaced, but fear and will were meaningless under the bead's control. His broken body wasn’t worth preserving. Gritting his teeth, he tried to rise, but shoulder pain sent him collapsing.

Startled by the noise, Song Qingshi scolded sternly, "Get back in bed! No leaving for ten days!" (A nurse’s trick: severity worked on unruly patients.)

"Ten days?" Yue Wuhuan gaped, reassessing Song Qingshi’s deceptively gentle exterior. A seasoned companion, he’d never known anyone with such... stamina.

Seeing him frozen, Song Qingshi lifted him gently.

Yue Wuhuan, steeling himself, looped arms around Song Qingshi’s neck. Burning fingers met cool, jade-like skin; the clean herbal scent enveloped him. Momentarily dazed, he mocked his own weakness before slipping into his practiced role, whispering seductively, "May the Immortal Lord be gentle..."

"Don’t worry, I will," Song Qingshi tucked him in firmly, admonishing, "The valley’s damp. You’re mortal—keep covered to avoid chills."

Baffled by this unfamiliar script, Yue Wuhuan stayed silent.

"As your physician, I’ll explain." Song Qingshi retrieved his notes, absentmindedly adjusting imaginary glasses, reciting clinically: "Patient: Yue Wuhuan. Three lacerations—18cm, 14cm, 12cm—right shoulder to chest. Fractured clavicle, ruptured suprascapular artery. Contusions on elbows, wrists, knees, ankles. Buttock wound. Signs of substance abuse and developing dependency. Understood?"

Yue Wuhuan nodded, unnerved by the eerie smile.

"Good." Confident in his clarity, Song Qingshi outlined treatment: "Your *dantian* and *meridians* are ruined. Strong pills like Revitalization Elixir or Bone-Regeneration Powder are unsafe. We’ll start with basic remedies, then Six Meridians Revival Decoction medicinal baths, followed by Dragon Ascent Pills and Nine-Turn Blood Lotus Pills."

Yue Wuhuan recognized common pills like Revitalization Elixir, but Dragon Ascent Pills were extraordinarily valuable luxuries. The Nine-Turn Blood Lotus Pill—crafted from ten-thousand-year blood lotuses, with only nine known to exist—was legend. One aided the Mysterious Palace Lord in spiritual advancement; another caused a lord to murder his lover. At auction, one sold for millions in spirit stones—a missed opportunity Jin Feiren forever regretted.

This was like promising a beggar silks, gold, and the throne. Only a fool would believe.

Yue Wuhuan smiled coldly. Just another cruel game.

Song Qingshi concluded cheerfully, "Follow these treatments, and you’ll recover."

"Of course," Yue Wuhuan purred, eyes lidded. "This one obeys..."

"Oh!" Song Qingshi suddenly donned gloves, retrieving a glowing pebble in a cylindrical lamp. "This might feel strange. Please endure this."

Bracing for new suffering, Yue Wuhuan made his eyes languid.

Song Qingshi gently opened his eyelids, examining intently. "Tear ducts appear normal... Might require diagnostic dyes..."

Yue Wuhuan: [What...?]