2025-10-14 16:02:45The hospital’s atrium glittered with cameras and white coats. Banners draped across the mezzanine read “In Honor of Life Restored.”
Rick stood beside Master Yuren Sun at the podium, heart pounding louder than the applause.
Yuren’s voice carried over the crowd. “Apprentice Franklin achieved what we deemed impossible, reviving a collapsed Golden Pulse.”
Polite clapping rolled through the hall; reporters leaned forward, holo-recorders glowing. Rick managed a stiff bow.
Across the rows of physicians, he caught Isaac Voss’s expression, smiling just enough to hide the contempt in his eyes.
When the crowd quieted, Yuren’s tone shifted, almost too soft for the microphones. “Yet, even golden light can blind those who gaze too long.”
A murmur rippled. Rick blinked, uncertain whether it was a warning or a proverb. After the ceremony, Yuren placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come by the study this afternoon. We need to talk.”
Rick forced a smile. “Yes, Master.”
The cameras kept flashing; every lens felt like an eye judging him. From the edge of the hall, Evelyn watched, white lab coat over her floral dress, pride mixed with something darker. When their gazes met, she mouthed “Be careful.”
Yuren’s private study smelled of aged parchment and tea. Diagrams of meridians shimmered in suspended light; scrolls lined the walls like silent witnesses.
Rick stood near the window, waiting while Yuren poured tea into two small cups. “You spoke beautifully this morning,” Rick said, trying for levity.
Yuren’s smile was brief. “I spoke the truth. Beauty is irrelevant.” He set a cup in front of Rick. “Tell me, do you know what you awakened that night?”
Rick hesitated. “You called it the Golden Meridian Flow.”
“More than that.” Yuren’s eyes flicked to an ancient scroll on the shelf. “It is the remnant of a divine system, one that hears the pulse of creation itself. Those who touch it uninvited… invite echo.”
Rick frowned. “Echo?”
“Death, madness, calamity, call it what you will. Every miracle disturbs the balance.”
Rick’s voice sharpened. “Then why train us to heal at all? Why teach methods you fear?”
“Because compassion without discipline is chaos.”
Yuren’s words landed like blows. Rick stared into the steam rising from his cup. “When I treated that child, I didn’t feel chaos. I felt… clarity. Like the world was breathing with me.”
“That feeling,” Yuren said softly, “is precisely how the madness begins.”
Silence settled. Outside, rain whispered against the glass. Rick finally asked, “So what now? You want me to pretend it never happened?”
Yuren looked tired. “I want you to live long enough to understand what it means.”
Rick glanced down at his wrist; beneath his sleeve, the faint golden rune pulsed once, then faded.
The apprentice ward buzzed with quiet rivalry. Screens projected patient simulations, virtual meridian maps, digital organs pulsing in rhythm.
Rick joined the cluster of students around a holographic patient suffering from “energy imbalance.” Isaac was already there, coat immaculate, tone clipped.
“Standard correction at points Q-14 to S-3,” Isaac instructed. “We balance flow manually, no improvisation.”
Rick watched the projection flicker, the simulated heart still faltering. “That path only stabilizes output, not rhythm.”
Isaac’s brow furrowed. “You have a better idea?”
Rick stepped forward, fingers hovering over the interface. “Link Q-14 to T-7, skip S-3. Cross-bridge the meridian. It’ll sync the pulse faster.”
“That’s not in the manual,” another student whispered.
Rick smiled faintly. “Neither was the cure last night.”
He executed the adjustment. The holographic pulse leveled instantly; the screen turned green.
A wave of murmurs swept the room. Isaac’s jaw tightened. “You think breaking rules makes you enlightened?”
“No,” Rick replied evenly. “It makes me adaptable.”
Isaac slammed his palm on the console. “You got lucky once. Don’t mistake intuition for mastery.”
The door opened. Yuren entered silently, gaze sweeping the room. “What’s this commotion?”
Isaac straightened. “He’s undermining standard protocols, Master.”
Rick started to respond, but Yuren raised a hand. “Enough. If conflict breeds skill, you’ll settle it through cooperation.”
“Cooperation?” Isaac repeated, incredulous.
“You’ll share the next clinical assignment. One patient, one report.”
Rick blinked. “Together?”
Yuren nodded. “Perhaps you’ll learn balance from each other.”
When he left, Isaac leaned close, voice low and venomous. “I don’t need your charity, Franklin. Keep your miracles to yourself.”
Rick said nothing, but the silence between them crackled like static. As he packed his notes, he heard Isaac mutter to another apprentice, “He thinks he’s touched heaven. Let’s see how heaven feels when it burns.”
Rick didn’t turn around, but a cold weight settled in his chest.
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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
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