War God Returns: Lein Ashford

In the hallway of Corholt General Hospital, a sixteen-year-old girl knelt before a middle-aged doctor in a white coat. Tears streamed down her face, her voice trembling with desperation.

"Doctor Wilson, I'm begging you... please save my mother," Lily Ashford pleaded, her voice hoarse. Her hands clutched the hem of the doctor's coat. "I promise I'll pay all the medical expenses. I'll work hard, even if it takes years. Please, don't let my mother die..."

Doctor Wilson stared at her with cold eyes, then roughly pulled his coat from Lily's grip.

"Enough!" he snapped. "It's pointless spending any amount of money—your mother won't survive. Even surgery would be useless!"

Lily staggered back, her face pale.

"But—"

"I'm the best cardiac specialist in this hospital," Doctor Wilson cut her off with an arrogant tone. "Just from one examination, I already know her condition. End-stage dilated cardiomyopathy. Her left ventricle is swollen to twice its normal size, ejection fraction below 20 percent. Her heart can't even pump enough blood to her vital organs. Her kidney function is already declining, fluid is accumulating in her lungs, and her ventricular arrhythmia is increasingly out of control."

He looked at Lily with a condescending gaze. "Simply put, your mother's heart is chronically damaged beyond hope. Even a heart transplant wouldn't arrive in time. She'll die within hours."

Lily felt the world around her collapse. Her legs went weak, her body trembling. Just hours ago, they were preparing the party meal together. Her mother was still smiling despite her pale face. And now...

"No... that can't be..." she murmured softly, tears streaming down again.

Just then, footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway.

A twenty-six-year-old man walked closer. His appearance was simple—wrinkled long-sleeved shirt, worn jeans, and an old bag on his back. But there was something about his aura. His eyes were sharp, his steps firm, and his face was filled with deep seriousness.

He stopped right beside Lily.

"I can cure her," he said in a calm but firm voice.

Doctor Wilson turned, eyes narrowing. He looked Lein up and down with a contemptuous gaze.

"What did you say?!"

Lein stared directly into his eyes without blinking. "I said, I can cure her."

Doctor Wilson's face reddened. His anger exploded.

"Where did this punk come from?!" he yelled at a nearby nurse. "Throw him out! This isn't a place where he can just waltz in!"

He turned back to Lein with pure contempt. "If I say a patient can't be saved, then that's a fact! And then some stray dog playing hero dares to doubt me?!"

Doctor Wilson glanced at Lein's shabby appearance and snorted loudly. "You must be just some cheap quack!"

Lily, still sitting on the floor, furrowed her brow. There was something familiar about this man. His face... his voice... but she couldn't remember.

Lein bent down and gently stroked Lily's hair with a hand full of warmth.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "I will definitely save Mom."

Lily's eyes widened instantly. Her heart pounded hard.

Mom? He said Mom?

Did that mean this man was... her brother? Was he... still alive?!

Before Lily could speak, Lein had already stood up and walked toward the door of the treatment room.

"I'm going in now," he said coldly. "There's no more time."

"Hey! How dare you—"

Doctor Wilson reached for Lein's shoulder, intending to forcibly drag him out. But before his hand made contact, Lein quickly caught his wrist—like a snake striking its prey.

Lein's grip was strong.

Doctor Wilson grimaced in pain, his face turning pale.

Lein stared at him with a piercing cold gaze. "My mother is dying. You even said she can no longer be saved. So when someone finally can, it hurts your pride so much that you try to stop them?"

His grip slowly tightened. Doctor Wilson grimaced even harder.

"When you don't know something, it doesn't mean everyone else doesn't know," Lein continued with a sharp, cutting tone. "You're the most despicable doctor I've ever met."

"I-I understand! Let go!" Doctor Wilson shrieked, almost crying.

Lein released him roughly, then entered the room without looking back.

Doctor Wilson rubbed his reddened wrist, his face flushed with shame and anger.

"If anything happens to the patient, I won't be responsible!" he yelled from behind.

Lein ignored him completely.

---

As soon as the door closed, Lein's cold expression softened. He walked slowly toward the hospital bed in the middle of the room.

There, a middle-aged woman lay weakly. Her face was pale, her lips bluish, and her body was covered in monitor cables. Her heartbeat was irregular.

This woman was his mother. The woman who gave birth to him, raised him, and suffered from betrayal she never imagined.

Lein's chest tightened. His eyes grew hot.

He approached, then knelt beside the bed. His rough hands—hands that had once held weapons and spilled blood—now trembled as they touched his mother's cold hand.

"You don't need to worry anymore, Mom," he whispered softly, his voice shaking. "I'm home now. And from now on, everything will be okay. No one will ever treat our family badly again!"

He took a deep breath, then pulled out a small box from his bag. Inside were dozens of gleaming silver acupuncture needles.

His hands moved quickly and precisely. One by one, the needles were inserted into specific points on his mother's body.

Neiguan, at the left wrist—to calm the heart.

Shenmen, at the wrist crease—to stabilize heart rhythm.

Juque, at the center of the chest—to smooth the flow of vital energy to the heart.

Shanzhong, right in the middle of the chest—to open the blocked heart meridian.

His movements were skillful, like a dancer performing a perfect choreography. No hesitation. No mistakes.

Outside the room, Doctor Wilson stood with one hand still rubbing his aching wrist. His face was full of contempt.

"Acupuncture?" he muttered cynically. "Does he think that has any effect on the heart? Like I said, he really is just a cheap quack!"

Several other doctors began gathering, intrigued by the commotion. They peeked through the small window in the door.

"He's using acupuncture needles?" a young doctor muttered in disbelief.

"Does he think this is ancient times?!" a female doctor chuckled.

"End-stage cardiomyopathy can't be cured by poking needles," another doctor added, shaking his head.

But one minute later...

Beep... beep... beep...

The heart monitor, which had been irregular before, suddenly showed a stable graph. Her heartbeat returned to normal. Her blood pressure rose slowly. Her oxygen saturation increased.

All the doctors fell silent.

Their mouths hung open. Their eyes widened in disbelief.

"That's impossible..." Doctor Wilson murmured, his face as white as a pillowcase.