2025-10-14 15:25:22Alarms ripped through the quiet of Salt Lake General at 11:47 p.m.
“Code blue, pediatric ward!”
Rick Franklin sprinted down the corridor, white coat flaring behind him. The smell of antiseptic clung to the air, mingling with panic.
Through the glass of Room 9 he saw the child, six-year-old Lila, her skin waxen, monitors screaming irregular rhythms. “Pulse forty and dropping!” a nurse shouted.
“Adrenaline, now!” Dr. Harris, the attending, barked. “We’ve lost hepatic response. Renal failure cascading, someone page ICU!”
Rick forced his breath steady. He was only twenty-four, still the youngest apprentice under Master Yuren Sun.
But in that moment the noise faded; he heard only the faint, stuttering beat from the monitor, Lila’s heart fighting to exist. “She’s not stabilizing,” Harris snapped. “Prep time of death in, ”
“Wait.” Rick stepped forward. “Let me try something.”
Harris shot him a glare. “This is no time for experiments, Franklin.”
“It’s not an experiment. It’s a pulse-stabilization sequence.”
“You’re an apprentice, not a miracle worker. Step back.”
Rick’s jaw tightened. The little girl’s mother sobbed in the corner, hands clasped until her knuckles turned white. “Please, someone.”
The door hissed open. Silence rippled. Master Yuren Sun entered. His gray hair was tied neatly, eyes calm and unreadable behind his glasses.
He said nothing, only observed, the way a hawk measures distance before striking. Rick felt his throat dry.
“He’s watching. Testing.” Harris muttered, “Master Sun, the organs are failing. We’re calling it.”
Yuren’s gaze shifted to the child, then to Rick. “Are you calling it, or surrendering?”
Harris stiffened. “Sir?”
Yuren gave a faint, knowing smile. “Continue, Doctor.”
Rick met the old man’s eyes and saw it, not permission, but challenge. He moved before he could think. “Scalpel and sterile needles, now.”
“Franklin!” Harris barked. “You’re off this case.”
Rick ignored him, rolling up his sleeves. “Monitor vitals. I’ll take responsibility.”
“Responsibility?” Harris scoffed. “For killing her?”
Rick didn’t answer. His hands shook as he arranged the silver acupuncture needles across the tray.
Something in his memory stirred, an image, half-dreamed: a circle of light, seven points forming an infinity loop. The Sevenfold Meridian.
He shouldn’t even know those diagrams; they were sealed in Yuren’s private scrolls. But his fingers moved as if remembering a forgotten melody. “Franklin, stop!” a nurse cried.
Rick’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Trust me… please.”
He pressed the first needle beneath the child’s collarbone. The monitor flatlined.
Gasps filled the room. “Idiot!” Harris lunged forward, but Yuren’s voice cut through, sharp as steel. “Let him continue.”
Everyone froze. Rick heard his own heartbeat echoing in his ears as he set the second, third, fourth points, down the sternum, along the solar plexus, tracing a forbidden path.
Each insertion sent a faint vibration up his fingertips, like the body answering. “Those aren’t standard points,” someone whispered. “That’s the Sevenfold.”
The final needle hovered above Lila’s wrist. His mind flashed, a shadowed hall, ancient hands guiding his. Eight points complete the circle.
He pressed the last needle in. The room fell utterly silent. Then, Beep. Beep. Beep.
The monitor spiked; color flushed back into Lila’s cheeks. A faint shimmer, gold under her skin, pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. Rick staggered backward, breath ragged. “She’s… stable.”
Harris stared, speechless. “That’s impossible.”
Yuren stepped forward, eyes narrowing, awe and dread mixed. “Those points were sealed for a reason,” he murmured.
Rick looked up, confused. “Master?”
But Yuren had already turned away, whispering something under his breath that Rick couldn’t hear. The miracle spread through the ward like wildfire.
The observation lights burned white against sterile steel. Rick scrubbed his hands in the sink until the water ran cold, trying to wash off the tremor.
Behind him, whispers gathered, nurses replaying the footage, interns craning to see. “Did you see her skin? It glowed.”
“Golden resonance, like old legends.”
“Or like radiation,” another muttered.
He stared at his reflection, eyes hollow, hair damp, a faint shimmer still coiling beneath the skin of his wrist.
The door slid open. Yuren Sun stepped in, closing it softly. “Master,” Rick began, voice hoarse. “She lived. I.”
“I saw.” Yuren’s tone was even. “And I saw what you did.”
Rick swallowed. “I followed instinct. The points came to me.”
“Instinct?” Yuren’s gaze sharpened. “You pierced the Eighth Meridian Flow, a path sealed since the Imperial Pulse Wars. You could have stopped her heart permanently.”
Rick’s hands tightened on the edge of the sink. “But I didn’t. She’s alive.”
“Alive, yes. But at what cost?”
Rick met his eyes. “You taught me that a healer listens to life, not protocol.”
“And I also taught you that arrogance kills faster than disease.”
Silence stretched between them, thick as gauze. Yuren finally sighed, rubbing his temples. “There are forces, Rick, older than medicine. You touched one tonight. The Golden Meridian was forbidden because those who awakened it heard… too much.”
“Heard?”
“The pulse of heaven,” Yuren whispered. “And it drove them mad.”
Rick laughed, shaky. “I’m not hearing voices, Master.”
“Not yet.” Yuren’s eyes softened, weary. “Promise me, you will never use those points again.”
Rick hesitated. “If another child were dying, ”
“Promise.”
The weight in his tone silenced him. “...I promise.”
Yuren nodded once and left, robes whispering across the tiles. Rick stood alone, the fluorescent hum drilling into his ears.
Then he saw it, on his wrist, faint lines glowing gold, forming a rune he had never seen before.
He pressed his hand over it, heart pounding. The light faded, but not the sensation. Something alive had answered him.
The rooftop was silent except for the buzz of the city below. Dawn was a thin smear of gray over the horizon.
Rick leaned against the railing, coat open to the cold. He hadn’t slept. The adrenaline of the night still roared through his veins.
The door creaked. Yuren stepped out, carrying two paper cups of coffee. “You should be resting,” he said.
“So should you.”
Yuren handed him a cup. They stood in silence for a long moment, steam rising into the chill. “You disobeyed direct orders,” Yuren said finally.
“I saved her.”
Yuren nodded. “And you awakened something you do not understand.”
Rick exhaled. “You keep saying that like it’s a curse.”
“Because it is.”
He turned to face him fully. The wind tugged at his sleeves, revealing the faint scar of an old burn on his wrist.
“I once touched the Golden Meridian,” Yuren said quietly. “Only once. I heard every heartbeat in the city at once. It nearly killed me. I locked those scrolls away so no one else would hear that noise.”
Rick’s breath caught. “Then why test me? Why let me do it?”
Yuren’s eyes softened. “Because sometimes a student must break a law to understand its weight.”
Rick looked out over the city lights. “If compassion is a crime, then maybe I’ll keep breaking it.”
Yuren’s jaw tightened. “Be careful, Rick. Every miracle you steal from heaven takes something from you in return. Every life saved pulls another thread loose.”
The words sank like stones. Rick murmured, “And if that’s the price?”
“Then pray you can afford it.”
They stood until the first rays of sunlight touched the Salt Lake’s glass surface far below.
Rick lifted his wrist; for an instant, the golden sigil flickered beneath the skin, silent, pulsing in time with the dawn. He hid it quickly, afraid even of the light.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 175. The Ash Forest
Rick stepped off the cracked path, boots sinking slightly into ash so fine it clung to his soles like wet flour. The air was heavy, electric, humming faintly against his skin. Lightning from centuries past had burned the forest to charcoal; even the wind whispered against the blackened trunks as though afraid to disturb the silence. No birds sang. No insects crawled. No small movements stirred the barren ground. The world here had been purified once, and now it was dead, or close enough to death that the difference no longer mattered.Luna followed behind, carrying the faint glow of her cocoon. She bent low, eyes narrowing, reaching toward the soil. Her hands hovered over patches of gray ash that seemed lifeless. "They’re still here," she whispered. "I can feel them, faint heartbeats, buried deep."Rick knelt beside her. Fingers tracing the uneven ground, he closed his eyes, letting his Qi seep into the soil. The System’s interface flickered faintly in the corner of his mind. [Env
Chapter 174. The Bridge of Echoes
Dawn broke over the canyon in long, silver shafts of light, slicing through the lingering mist like frozen blades. The bridge, once crumbling under the weight of neglect, now stood firm. Timber had been replaced, ropes reinforced, and carved stones aligned as if they had always belonged there. Rick moved across it cautiously, his boots whispering against the worn planks. Luna’s cocoon glowed faintly at his side, a soft pulse marking her slow, even breathing.The villagers had begun crossing again, tentative at first. Mothers carried children in their arms, small hands brushing the rails, eyes wide at the restored path. Farmers with bundles of produce hesitated, their gaze drawn to the wooden supports that now held steady. The bridge sang under their steps, a subtle vibration that spoke of both labor and life reclaimed. Rick watched quietly, feeling the resonance of movement through his own pulse, as if the bridge itself were a living thing remembering its purpose.Ahead, the swor
Chapter 173. The Blade’s Reflection
The canyon woke under a fragile light. Mist lingered along the riverbank, curling in silent spirals. Rick moved slowly, carrying Luna’s cocoon like a fragile vessel, the soft hum of her Qi pulsing against his chest. The swordswoman crouched by the water, her hands hovering above the river as though she feared breaking it.Her eyes were wide now, pupils clear for the first time in years. The world hit her all at once: the sun’s angle, the smell of wet stone, the trembling shimmer of water. She flinched, shielding her face with her arm.Rick knelt beside her without speaking. The wind carried the faint clang of the canyon’s loose stones, but no words were needed. He sensed her pulse racing, every beat a drum of panic. His own Qi threaded through her, steadying, like the quiet thrum of a metronome. “Look at the water,” he said quietly. “See it, not what it hides.”Her hands trembled as they touched the river’s surface. Shadows seemed to stir beneath her fingers, images of the people s
Chapter 172. The Echo Surgery
The canyon hung in near-silence, the kind that pressed against the ribs like the weight of water. A thin mist crawled across the jagged cliffs, licking the bases of the rock walls and swirling around the rickety bridge where travelers whispered tales of a blind swordswoman. Rick and Luna stepped into the clearing beside the bridge. Moonlight draped the ground in silver, making shadows spill like ink across the uneven stones. Luna’s cocoon glowed faintly, casting a pale warmth across the clearing.The villagers had stayed far from the bridge for years. No one dared cross. No one dared speak. And no one had seen the swordswoman since the mist had thickened. Rick had heard the story: a blade so precise, so attuned, it cut life from the air itself. She was not merely blind; she had trained her body and Qi to sense the world in vibrations. He could feel her before she appeared. Her Qi was sharp, restless, a humming wire ready to snap.He took a step forward, the soles of his boots crun
Chapter 171. The Blind Blade 2
The Blind Blade exhaled sharply, a breath she had not realized she was holding. The sword wavered, then dropped to the stone bridge. She took a step back, one that would have been unthinkable hours ago. Her eyes, still clouded from years of strain, reflected a faint shimmer of recognition, not sight. She understood what had been offered, and it was enough for now.Rick’s gaze drifted to the stars piercing the mist. For the first time in the canyon, the villagers below, the few who had dared watch, could see the faint glow of hope above the bridge. Luna stirred slightly in her cocoon, a tiny pulse echoing Rick’s satisfaction. “I am not here to take your life,” Rick said again. “I am here to show you a path back to yourself.”She lowered the sword fully, letting it rest against her leg. Her chest heaved with controlled breathing. Rick could feel her stillness, the balance slowly returning. Her Qi was no longer screaming, no longer in conflict with the world. It was as though a dam h
Chapter 171. The Blind Blade
The canyon was silent, wrapped in a veil of mist so thick it swallowed sound and light alike. Rick’s boots crunched over the loose stone as he stepped off the narrow trail, his movements careful, almost surgical, as though every step mattered more than the next. The mist clung to his coat, curling around him like a living thing, damp and heavy. Luna’s cocoon hovered at chest height, faintly glowing with her contained Qi. She was still, suspended between sleep and wakefulness, the slight pulse of her energy the only indicator of life.The villagers had warned him, their voices trembling with a mixture of fear and awe. Across the bridge that spanned the canyon, a woman moved silently, her presence described as a ghost more than flesh. They called her the Blind Blade. No one had survived crossing. Those who tried vanished, their screams swallowed by the canyon’s walls. Rick did not flinch at their stories; he had walked through worse, yet he understood the danger, the mist concealed
You may also like
SUPER FARMING SYSTEM
Shame_less00759.4K viewsSkythunder System
Scoco21.2K viewsThe Poor Owner of a Legacy System
Pein35.1K viewsI Became A Vampire Demon
Zenick41.8K viewsBecame a billionaire with system
Dee Hwang 41.6K viewsCHANGING THE GAME WITH THE CASHFLOW SYSTEM
Dominant pen1.4K viewsThe Legendary Hairfall System
VKBoy1.8K viewsSPEED RACER HAREM SYSTEM
FOCA4.4K views