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“If someone is excessively brilliant—even displaying precognitive abilities beyond that of ordinary people—as long as it falls within an acceptable range, others will at most praise them as a ‘prodigy’ or assume they’ve got some kind of cheat code,” Li Xu muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair and gently tapping his fingers against the desk. “You could tell the truth and say you had an epiphany, or that an Immortal taught you in a dream. Others might find it mystical, but they wouldn’t necessarily dig deeper. After all, there really are geniuses in this world whose cognitive and processing speeds are simply unreachable by normal people.”

However, if one were to present the complete texts of the *Yellow Emperor’s Outer Canon* and *Liu Juanzi’s Ghost Remedy*—physical volumes that had thoroughly vanished from the face of the earth for thousands of years—that absolutely could not be brushed off with words like “genius” or “epiphany.” The significance of such lost treasures of Chinese civilization, and the sheer fanaticism they would incite, was beyond most people’s imagination.

Moreover, should he hand over just one of these canons, or both? Sitting at his desk, Li Xu continuously weighed his options.

After mulling it over, he decided to use the *Yellow Emperor’s Outer Canon* as his breakthrough. For one thing, *Liu Juanzi’s Ghost Remedy* was not entirely lost; a five-volume fragment compiled during the Southern Qi dynasty was still in circulation. If Li Xu were to suddenly present a “sequel” or “complete version,” experts specializing in medical history would easily take it and cross-reference it word-for-word against the existing copies. The moment the handwriting, writing style, or certain taboo characters failed to match up, it would immediately be deemed a forgery.

The *Yellow Emperor’s Outer Canon* was a different story. It was so thoroughly lost that practically no substantive original text remained in history. The extreme difficulty of historical verification gave Li Xu tremendous room to operate.

For another, Li Xu certainly couldn’t just hand over the original ancient text of the *Outer Scripture* provided by the system. Those obscure, difficult-to-understand pre-Qin dynasty classical Chinese writings had to be altered by his own hands to some extent. In other words, he needed to “translate” and “reconstruct” them using modern medical thinking.

There was actually a precedent for this. Just like the *Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor*, the original text was written in profoundly archaic classical Chinese. The various versions currently used for teaching in traditional Chinese medicine academies had all been annotated by generations of renowned physicians and even translated into vernacular Chinese.

Over the past few days, Li Xu had used his free time to deeply understand and digest the complete *Yellow Emperor’s Outer Canon* given by the system. He discovered that many of its concepts and specific procedures coincided surprisingly well with the hypotheses of top modern experts in both traditional Chinese and Western medicine.

Looking at the structure of many classic texts from China, when the ancients wrote extremely important and comprehensive canons, they typically divided them into “Inner Chapters” and “Outer Chapters.” For example, *Zhuangzi* was divided into the seven Inner Chapters and the miscellaneous Outer Chapters; the *Spring and Autumn Annals of Master Yan* had inner and outer chapters; *Mencius*, *Baopuzi*, and others followed the same division.

Generally speaking, inner and outer chapters explored two complementary or even entirely different dimensions. The inner chapters primarily discussed core theories, philosophical foundations, and overarching mental outlines, while the outer chapters focused on specific applications, practical case studies, and technical methods.

In other words, if medicine were compared to martial arts, the “inner chapters” would be the internal energy cultivation techniques guiding one on how to train their qi. The “outer chapters,” on the other hand, would be the martial forms and weapon manuals, teaching one how to slay enemies on the battlefield.

The *Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor* (including the *Suwen* and *Lingshu*) consisted of eighteen volumes totaling over one hundred and sixty thousand words (with slight variations across editions). It mainly covered internal medicine theories such as yin and yang, the five elements, the *zang-fu* organs and meridians, as well as disease mechanisms and treatment principles.

However, the complete *Yellow Emperor’s Outer Canon* provided by the system was a massive thirty-seven volumes. It totaled over three hundred and seventy thousand words.

Within it were detailed records of microscopic anatomy from ancient times, surgical craniotomies, the reattachment of severed limbs, and how to use special herbs in conjunction with specific times of the day to perform highly difficult excisions of organic lesions. It even included early concepts bordering on “organ transplantation.”

If this content were thrown out there directly in classical Chinese, it would probably be treated as a fantasy novel. But if Li Xu translated it into the vernacular, and even repackaged it using modern anatomical and physiological terminology, he could perfectly explain it to the outside world: this was a unique set of surgical traditional Chinese medicine theories he had summarized himself. He could claim it came from years of studying fragmented ancient texts, collecting folk remedies from old countryside doctors, and combining them with his own clinical practice and “epiphanies.” This way, it would be much easier to justify.

Even if others found the theory too advanced, they would at most marvel at him being a once-in-a-generation medical genius. They would never suspect he had a cheat code from thousands of years ago in his head.

After sitting at his desk and pondering for a while, Li Xu spread out a crisp, white sheet of paper. He began to write. He didn’t use a computer to type; instead, he picked up a pen and wrote by hand.

Nowadays, many people were used to typing on keyboards when writing, favoring speed and the convenience of editing. However, some older traditional writers or professionals involved in ancient text research still preferred writing by hand.

For one, handwritten content was more intuitive, possessing a certain scholarly charm and warmth. More importantly, handwriting easily accommodated multiple revisions, and those traces of edits and cross-outs would be authentically preserved on the paper. Especially for academic works that involved research and creation, a burst of inspiration during the first draft might be crossed out and rewritten during a second read if it felt unsatisfactory. Yet, upon a third look, combined with new clinical cases, the author might realize that the very first sentence actually captured the true meaning best.

These traces of overthrowing and rebuilding one’s thoughts were lost forever once deleted from a computer document, but they remained clearly visible on a manuscript. This served as precious evidence of the thought process itself.

It was much like the difference between modern web novels and traditional published novels. The reason web novels sometimes appeared to have less literary value compared to traditional literature, or frequently suffered from inconsistencies and plot holes, was precisely because they emphasized the immediacy of serialization. Authors had to update thousands or even tens of thousands of words daily, leaving them with absolutely no time for repeated polishing and editing. Moreover, because web novels needed to garner enough attention amidst a sea of information, they often focused more on pacing and exhilarating plot points.

But this didn’t mean that the true skill of web authors was necessarily inferior to that of traditional authors; it was simply a difference in medium and audience demand.

Li Xu took a deep breath and put pen to paper.

He didn’t plan to copy the *Outer Scripture* word-for-word starting from the first chapter of the first volume. That would be too stiff. He opted for a more ingenious approach—flipping open the *Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor* at hand, he casually picked out a topic on “carbuncles caused by meridian blockages,” and used it as an entry point to expand further.

He seamlessly transitioned from the macroscopic theories of the *Inner Jing* to the specific microscopic procedures in the *Outer Scripture*, detailing “how to incise and drain pus, and how to use special herbs to corrode necrotic tissue and stimulate new flesh growth.”

Written in a blend of classical and vernacular Chinese, it was beautifully complemented with illustrations.

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