The servant bowed at the doorway, his announcement cutting through the tension. "My lord, alchemist master Feng Liwei has arrived."
Jin Haoran composed himself with remarkable speed, the murderous rage vanishing behind a mask of noble authority. He straightened his robes and nodded to the servant. "Send him in."
Feng Liwei entered with measured steps, his posture perfect, his expression serene. Though barely in his mid-twenties, he carried himself with the gravitas of someone twice his age. His blue alchemist robes, embroidered with silver symbols of his rank, hung crisp and immaculate around his tall frame.
The servants who escorted him maintained a respectful distance, their eyes downcast but stealing glances at the young master with undisguised reverence. Even in the Jin household, where power and status were commonplace, a Rank Two alchemist commanded special attention.
"Master Feng," Jin Haoran greeted, inclining his head slightly. "Your prompt arrival honors us."
Feng Liwei bowed, precisely the correct depth for addressing a clan leader. "Lord Jin. I came as quickly as circumstances allowed."
"The Jin clan appreciates your skill," Haoran replied, his voice carrying the subtle reminder that he was not just any client but a Rank Three Formation Master—a cultivator whose power exceeded the young alchemist's own. "Few possess your insight into spiritual injuries."
"Your formation barriers are legendary, Lord Jin," Feng acknowledged with a small smile. "I merely mix herbs and identify imbalances."
Jin Haoran gestured toward the bed. "My daughter requires your expertise."
Feng Liwei turned, and his composed expression faltered momentarily. Jin Xiyue sat propped against silk pillows, her outer robes torn and crusted with dried blood. Bandages wrapped her torso beneath the fabric, and bruises bloomed across her visible skin. Her hair hung loose and tangled, and exhaustion had carved shadows beneath her eyes.
Yet those eyes—they weren't what he expected. No fear, no pain, no desperation. Instead, they watched him with an unsettling calm, assessing and alert. Most cultivators in her condition would be delirious or unconscious. Instead, she appeared... collected. Almost detached from her own suffering.
"Young Mistress Jin," he said, bowing again. "I will do everything in my power to aid your recovery."
Feng Liwei approached Jin Xiyue's bedside, setting down his lacquered wooden case of tools and remedies with practiced precision. He knelt beside her, his movements efficient and clinical.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing toward her wrist.
Jin Xiyue extended her arm without hesitation. His fingers found her pulse points, applying gentle pressure as his eyes half-closed in concentration. The room fell silent save for the distant patter of rain against the courtyard stones.
"Your heart rhythm is strong," he noted after a moment, surprise coloring his tone. "Remarkably so, considering your condition."
He moved methodically through his examination, checking the visible wounds on her arms and shoulders. His fingers hovered over the bandages at her torso.
"These injuries need to be assessed properly."
Jin Lihua stepped forward. "I'll assist."
With her mother's help, Jin Xiyue adjusted her robes to reveal the bandaged areas. Feng Liwei's expression remained neutral as he carefully unwrapped the bloodied cloth, but his eyebrows drew together almost imperceptibly.
"These wounds..." he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. He examined each cut and bruise with increasing puzzlement. "They're all superficial."
"Is that not favorable?" Jin Haoran asked, his voice taut with restraint.
"Of course," Feng replied. "But unusual. You mentioned she was attacked by powerful enemies?"
"That's what we understand," Jin Haoran said, exchanging a brief glance with his wife.
Feng Liwei reached into his case for a small jade instrument. "This will help me detect any internal damage or spiritual disruptions." He held it above Xiyue's body, moving it slowly from her head downward. The jade emitted a soft green glow.
"Young Mistress Jin," he said conversationally as he worked, "can you describe how you sustained these injuries? The pattern suggests multiple attackers."
Jin Xiyue's eyes met his. "I was ambushed on the mountain path. They seemed prepared for me."
"How many were there?" he asked, keeping his tone light despite the intensity of his assessment.
"Three, perhaps four. It happened quickly."
Feng Liwei nodded, his focus apparently on the jade instrument, though his mind cataloged the inconsistencies. Her injuries, while numerous, were strangely uniform in depth. None had penetrated vital areas.
Feng Liwei set the jade instrument aside, his fingers lingering on its smooth surface. The preliminary examination had yielded more questions than answers. He cleared his throat softly.
"Lord Jin, Lady Jin, I need to conduct a deeper assessment using my spiritual sense." He glanced at Jin Xiyue, his expression professional but cautious. "This will allow me to examine the condition of Young Mistress Jin's meridians and spiritual pathways directly."
Jin Haoran nodded firmly. "Whatever is necessary."
Jin Lihua's hands twisted in her lap. "Will it cause her pain?"
"No, Lady Jin," Feng assured her. "She may feel a slight pressure, nothing more. The technique is non-invasive."
Jin Lihua looked at her daughter, concern etched across her features. "Very well," she agreed, though her voice trembled slightly.
Throughout the exchange, Jin Xiyue remained silent, her eyes fixed on Feng with that same unsettling calm. She didn't ask questions or seek reassurance. She simply waited.
"Please remain still," Feng instructed her, settling into a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes, centering himself. His breathing slowed as he gathered his spiritual energy, directing it with practiced precision.
He extended his spiritual sense toward Jin Xiyue's body, expecting to encounter the damaged pathways typical of a cultivator who had suffered traumatic injury. Instead, his consciousness met with something unexpected—a subtle resistance, like water flowing against an invisible current.
Feng Liwei's brow furrowed. He pushed deeper, tracing the flow of energy through her meridians. There was damage, yes, but beneath it... something else.
Something that shouldn't be there. The energy moved in patterns he'd never encountered before, neither blocking nor enhancing, but somehow... redirecting?
He pulled back abruptly, opening his eyes. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.
"Strange..." he muttered, more to himself than to the room. He blinked rapidly, refocusing. "I must be tired from the journey."
Jin Haoran leaned forward. "What did you find?"
"Nothing conclusive yet," Feng replied, composing himself. "I need to examine more thoroughly."
He closed his eyes again, gathering his spiritual sense with greater focus this time. Once more, he extended his consciousness into Jin Xiyue's body, probing deeper, more carefully.
Feng Liwei pushed deeper into Jin Xiyue's spiritual pathways, concentrating so intensely that beads of sweat formed at his temples. This time, he directed his spiritual sense with surgical precision, brushing aside the strange resistance he'd encountered before. He methodically traced each meridian from origin to terminus, expecting to find blockages, tears, or the telltale scarring of spiritual damage.
Instead, he found... perfection.
The meridians flowed like pristine mountain streams, energy coursing through them with remarkable vitality. Where there should have been damage from the attack, he found only smooth, uninterrupted channels. Even more bewildering—the congenital blockages that had plagued Jin Xiyue since birth, the ones that had limited her cultivation potential and earned her the quiet pity of the clan—they were simply gone.
It defied all medical logic. Meridians didn't heal themselves, especially not congenital defects. Not without extraordinary intervention.
Feng Liwei's spiritual sense withdrew abruptly. His eyes snapped open, and he stared at Jin Xiyue as though seeing a ghost. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, but no words emerged. The room fell into absolute silence. Jin Haoran and Jin Lihua exchanged worried glances as the renowned alchemist sat frozen, his professional composure shattered.
Jin Xiyue met his gaze steadily, her expression betraying nothing.
Jin Haoran stood, his brow furrowed with concern. The young alchemist's stunned expression had transformed the atmosphere in the room from hopeful to unsettling in mere moments.
"What's wrong?" Jin Haoran demanded, his voice carrying the weight of a man accustomed to immediate answers.
Feng Liwei's lips parted, then closed again. He looked from Jin Xiyue to her parents, then back again, struggling to articulate what his spiritual sense had revealed. His hands trembled slightly—an unprecedented display from the normally composed alchemist.
"She..." he began, his voice barely audible. He cleared his throat and tried again. "She... is not a cripple."
The words fell like stones into still water. For three heartbeats, absolute silence reigned.
Then the room erupted in chaos.
"What?" Jin Lihua gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "That's impossible! We've consulted every master from here to the Eastern Sea!"
Jin Haoran's face darkened with confusion and suspicion. "Explain yourself, Master Feng. My daughter's condition has been known since birth. Are you suggesting decades of diagnosis were wrong?"
"I'm suggesting nothing," Feng Liwei replied, finding his professional voice again. "I'm stating what I found. Her meridians show no signs of the congenital blockages documented in her medical history. They flow perfectly—better than perfectly. I've never seen such flawless pathways, even in prodigies."
"This is absurd," Jin Haoran growled, pacing now. "A person's spiritual foundation doesn't simply repair itself. Not without..."
He trailed off, unwilling to voice the implications. Forbidden techniques. High level pills. Ancient artifacts. The possibilities were few, and none of them were simple.
Throughout the commotion, Jin Xiyue remained still, watching the alchemist with that same unnervingly steady gaze. Her face betrayed no surprise, no confusion—only a patient watchfulness that seemed profoundly out of place.
When she finally spoke, her voice cut through the chaos like a blade through silk.
"I'll explain," she said softly.
All eyes turned to her. Jin Haoran froze mid-step. Jin Lihua's breath caught in her throat. Feng Liwei's expression shifted from bewilderment to intense curiosity.