Chapter 1 — Three Needles Against Death

At six forty-five in the morning, Lu Chen discovered that his daughter had declared war on carrots.

“No.”

Across the small kitchen table, four-year-old Lu Xiaoxiao stared at the orange slices in her bowl as though they were sworn enemies of the Lu family.

Lu Chen placed a steamed bun beside her.

“Three pieces.”

“No.”

“Two.”

Xiaoxiao folded her tiny arms.

“One.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“And half a strawberry.”

Lu Chen looked at the plate in front of her.

There were already five strawberries on it.

“You already have strawberries.”

“Those are breakfast strawberries.”

“And the other half?”

“Carrot compensation.”

Lu Chen was silent for several seconds.

He had once debated medical theory with physicians three times his age.

He had once stood inside a burning hall while seven armed men surrounded him.

He had once spent three days and three nights repairing a cultivator's shattered meridians without sleeping.

None of those experiences had prepared him for negotiating with a four-year-old.

“Fine.”

Xiaoxiao immediately ate the carrot.

Lu Chen sighed.

“You're going to bankrupt me.”

“No, Daddy.” She smiled sweetly. “You're already poor.”

His hand stopped halfway toward his tea.

“Who told you that?”

“Grandma Chen downstairs.”

Lu Chen made a mental note to stop buying vegetables from Grandma Chen.

Xiaoxiao swung her short legs beneath the chair.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“When are we going to be rich?”

“When people stop asking me to treat them for free.”

She thought seriously about that.

“So… never?”

Lu Chen stared at her.

The child had become far too perceptive.

The Lu Family Medical Clinic occupied the first floor of an old two-story building on the eastern side of Jiangzhou City.

Calling it a clinic was perhaps generous.

There was a consultation table.

Three wooden chairs.

A cabinet filled with herbs.

An acupuncture bed.

A faded anatomical chart hanging on the wall.

And a handwritten sign near the entrance:

CONSULTATION — 50 YUAN

Below it, in smaller writing:

NO CREDIT.

And below that, in distinctly childish handwriting:

CHILDREN FREE IF THEY BRING CANDY.

Lu Chen had crossed out the last line three times.

Xiaoxiao kept rewriting it.

The second floor contained two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a tiny balcony where Lu Chen grew medicinal herbs beside his daughter's collection of suspiciously unhealthy-looking flowers.

He had lived there for nearly four years.

It wasn't impressive.

That was precisely why he liked it.

No ancient sects.

No cultivation families.

No disciples kneeling outside his door.

No people calling him Ghost Physician.

Just patients complaining about back pain, elderly neighbors asking for blood-pressure medicine, and a daughter who believed vegetables violated basic human rights.

Lu Chen locked the clinic door behind them.

“Backpack.”

Xiaoxiao showed him the pink rabbit bag strapped to her shoulders.

“Water bottle.”

She shook it proudly.

“Lunch.”

She patted her backpack.

“Homework?”

Her expression froze.

Lu Chen looked down at her.

She looked up at him.

“Xiaoxiao.”

“Daddy.”

“Where's your homework?”

The little girl suddenly pointed behind him.

“Look! A bird!”

Lu Chen didn't turn.

Five minutes later, they were heading toward kindergarten with Xiaoxiao sitting on his shoulders while loudly explaining why forgetting homework was probably hereditary.

Lu Chen suspected she did not understand the word hereditary.

Unfortunately, she had used it correctly.

Jiangzhou had already begun waking.

Cars filled the main road.

Shop owners raised shutters.

Office workers hurried toward bus stops holding coffee and phones.

Lu Chen walked through it all wearing plain black trousers, a white shirt, and an inexpensive gray coat.

There was nothing about him that demanded attention.

At least, that was what he preferred.

He appeared to be around twenty-eight.

Tall.

Lean.

Black hair slightly longer than current fashion recommended.

A face handsome enough to occasionally make strangers look twice, although the faint exhaustion in his eyes usually discouraged a third glance.

His hands were the only unusual thing about him.

Long fingers.

Steady.

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Almost unnaturally steady.

They were hands that had once held needles finer than hair while someone's heart stopped beneath them.

Hands that remembered things Lu Chen would rather forget.

“Daddy.”

Xiaoxiao tugged his hair.

“What?”

“You're walking too slowly.”

“You're not walking at all.”

“That's because I'm management.”

Lu Chen almost laughed.

“You've been spending too much time with Old Chen.”

“Grandpa Chen says managers don't carry things.”

“He sells noodles.”

“He manages noodles.”

There was no reasonable response to that.

They reached the intersection opposite Jiangzhou Little Star Kindergarten just before eight.

Parents crowded the sidewalk.

Children in colorful uniforms ran toward the gate.

Xiaoxiao climbed down from his shoulders and immediately transformed from tyrannical household ruler into an adorable little girl.

“Daddy.”

“Yes?”

She held up both arms.

Lu Chen crouched.

She hugged his neck tightly.

“Pick me up early.”

“I always do.”

“Yesterday you were three minutes late.”

“I was treating a patient.”

“Three.”

“Minutes.”

She stared at him solemnly.

Lu Chen surrendered.

“I'll be early.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Xiaoxiao kissed his cheek.

Then she ran toward the kindergarten gate.

Halfway there, she turned around.

“Daddy!”

“What?”

“If a pretty auntie visits the clinic, don't scare her away!”

Several nearby parents looked at him.

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

Xiaoxiao disappeared through the gate laughing.

A woman beside him covered her mouth.

“Your daughter is adorable.”

Lu Chen opened his eyes again.

“She is currently available for adoption.”

The woman laughed.

Lu Chen walked away before Xiaoxiao could somehow hear him from inside the building.

He had gone less than two streets when he heard someone shout.

“Someone call an ambulance!”

A crowd had formed outside the entrance of the Grand Imperial Hotel.

Lu Chen normally avoided crowds.

Crowds attracted problems.

Problems wasted time.

And wasting time meant Xiaoxiao would accuse him of another three-minute betrayal.

He continued walking.

Then he heard another voice.

“He's not breathing!”

Lu Chen stopped.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

The sensible thing was to leave.

There were hospitals in Jiangzhou.

Doctors.

Emergency services.

His life had become peaceful precisely because he had learned not to interfere.

Then an old voice surfaced from somewhere in his memory.

A physician who walks past a dying man because saving him is inconvenient has no right to touch a needle.

Lu Chen exhaled slowly.

“Old man,” he muttered, “you've been gone five years and you're still causing me trouble.”

He turned around.

The crowd parted reluctantly when Lu Chen pushed through.

An elderly man lay on the pavement.

He appeared to be around seventy.

Silver hair.

Expensive dark suit.

Jade ring.

The kind of watch that probably cost more than Lu Chen's clinic.

Beside him knelt a young woman in business attire.

“Grandfather!”

Two bodyguards stood nearby, visibly panicked.

Another man was performing chest compressions.

“Move back!” the man shouted. “Give him air!”

Lu Chen's eyes sharpened.

Doctor.

Probably.

Late thirties.

Confident movements.

Proper compression rhythm.

The doctor's fingers moved toward the old man's neck.

“No pulse.”

Someone nearby whispered, “Is he dead?”

The young woman's face drained of color.

“No! Keep going!”

The doctor continued compressions.

Lu Chen watched for three seconds.

Then five.

Something was wrong.

Not with what the doctor was doing.

With the old man.

Lu Chen's gaze moved from the man's pale face to his throat.

Then his chest.

Then his left hand.

A faint gray shadow seemed to flicker beneath the skin around his wrist.

Nobody else reacted.

Nobody else could see it.

Lu Chen's pupils contracted.

For the briefest instant, the world changed.

Skin became translucent.

Blood vessels appeared like rivers.

Nerves became thin lines of pale light.

And deeper still, almost invisible—

a network of golden threads spread through the old man's body.

His Life Meridian.

Most of the threads were faint but intact.

One wasn't.

A dark knot had formed near the heart.

It twisted around a golden meridian like a cord around someone's throat.

Lu Chen frowned.

Not cardiac arrest.

The doctor stopped compressions for another pulse check.

“Still nothing.”

Lu Chen stepped forward.

“Stop.”

The doctor looked up.

“What?”

“Chest compressions won't save him.”

The young woman stared at Lu Chen.

“Who are you?”

“Someone trying to stop him from dying.”

The doctor stood.

“If you're not medical personnel, move back.”

Lu Chen crouched beside the old man.

The doctor grabbed his shoulder.

“I said—”

Lu Chen looked at him.

There was nothing threatening in his expression.

But the doctor's hand stopped.

“His heart isn't the problem,” Lu Chen said.

The doctor frowned.

“He has no pulse.”

“I know.”

“Then what exactly do you think—”

“The Pericardium Meridian is blocked.”

Silence.

The doctor stared.

“What?”

Lu Chen realized what he had said.

Too late.

He corrected himself.

“His circulation collapsed because something is constricting the tissue surrounding his heart.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It doesn't need to.”

Lu Chen reached inside his coat.

The two bodyguards immediately moved.

“What are you doing?”

Lu Chen removed a small wooden case.

He opened it.

Inside were nine acupuncture needles.

The young woman stared at him.

“You're going to use acupuncture on my grandfather?”

“Yes.”

“He isn't breathing!”

“I noticed.”

The doctor's expression darkened.

“This man needs emergency resuscitation, not traditional superstition.”

Lu Chen looked at him.

“If you continue compressions for another five minutes, he'll definitely die.”

The doctor froze.

The young woman snapped, “Can you save him?”

Lu Chen looked at the old man again.

The black knot had tightened.

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“I haven't treated him before.”

Her face changed.

One of the bodyguards grabbed Lu Chen's arm.

“Miss Qin, we can't let some stranger experiment on the chairman.”

Qin?

Lu Chen's gaze briefly returned to the elderly man's face.

He knew the name.

Everyone in Jiangzhou knew the Qin family.

Real estate.

Finance.

Private hospitals.

Half the skyline seemed to have their name attached to it.

Wonderful.

Exactly the sort of people Lu Chen wanted nothing to do with.

He started closing the needle case.

“You're right.”

The young woman blinked.

“What?”

“Wait for the ambulance.”

She stared at him.

“You just said he'll die!”

“He probably will.”

“Then save him!”

“Your bodyguard doesn't want me to.”

She turned.

“Let him go!”

The bodyguard immediately released Lu Chen.

The young woman looked back at him.

“If you can save my grandfather, I'll take responsibility.”

Lu Chen sighed.

“That's usually what people say before blaming the doctor.”

“Please.”

That word changed something.

Not much.

Just enough.

Lu Chen reopened the case.

“Hold his shoulders.”

The doctor stepped forward again.

“You cannot seriously intend to—”

Lu Chen selected the first needle.

The moment his fingers touched it, the faintest trace of golden light appeared around its tip.

No one noticed.

Except for an old man standing at the back of the crowd.

He wore a dark traditional jacket and carried a wooden cane.

His cloudy eyes suddenly became sharp.

“That…”

Lu Chen inserted the first needle.

Neiguan.

Second.

Shenmen.

The doctor stared.

Both placements were fast.

Too fast.

Acupuncture required precision.

Lu Chen barely appeared to look.

Third needle.

But instead of choosing a conventional acupoint, Lu Chen placed it slightly below the old man's sternum.

The physician's face changed.

“That point—”

Lu Chen twisted the needle.

His fingers moved no more than a few millimeters.

Golden energy slipped down the metal.

The Life Meridian reacted.

Inside the old man's chest, the black knot trembled.

Lu Chen's expression tightened.

Someone did this deliberately.

This wasn't illness.

It wasn't a natural blockage.

Someone had injected a strand of foreign energy into the old man's meridians.

A cultivator.

A weak one.

But definitely a cultivator.

Lu Chen felt his peaceful morning becoming increasingly complicated.

He pressed two fingers against the old man's chest.

The doctor shook his head.

“This is absurd.”

Then the old man's body jerked.

A gasp erupted from the crowd.

The young woman leaned forward.

“Grandfather?”

Nothing.

The doctor checked his neck.

His expression changed.

“I… I have a pulse.”

The crowd exploded.

“He's alive!”

“How?”

“Wasn't he dead?”

The doctor stared at Lu Chen.

“That isn't possible.”

Lu Chen removed the first needle.

“It clearly is.”

The elderly man's eyelids trembled.

He inhaled.

A rough, violent breath.

Then another.

The young woman's eyes filled with tears.

“Grandfather!”

The old man's lips moved.

No sound came out.

Lu Chen placed two fingers against his wrist.

Stable.

For now.

He began removing the needles.

The young woman grabbed his sleeve.

“Will he be okay?”

“He needs a hospital.”

“What happened to him?”

Lu Chen glanced at the dark residue slowly disappearing from the man's meridians.

He could tell her the truth.

Someone had attempted to kill her grandfather using a technique ordinary doctors would never discover.

That would invite questions.

Questions invited attention.

Attention invited cultivators.

Cultivators invited headaches.

“Heart problem.”

The doctor stared at him.

“You just said it wasn't his heart.”

Lu Chen looked at him.

“I changed my mind.”

The doctor opened his mouth.

Closed it.

For once, medical education failed him.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Lu Chen packed his needles.

The young woman hurried after him as he stood.

“Wait!”

He continued toward the edge of the crowd.

“Sir!”

Lu Chen stopped.

She reached him, breathing quickly.

“My name is Qin Ruoxi.”

“I didn't ask.”

She blinked.

People rarely responded to her like that.

“My grandfather is Qin Zhenguo.”

“I also didn't ask that.”

The old man with the cane at the back of the crowd almost laughed.

Qin Ruoxi stared at Lu Chen as though she had encountered an unfamiliar species.

“You saved his life.”

“He interrupted my walk.”

“I want to repay you.”

“Then don't.”

Lu Chen started walking again.

“Wait!”

He stopped once more, visibly less patient.

Qin Ruoxi reached into her handbag.

“Money, property, whatever you want. The Qin family doesn't owe favors.”

Lu Chen looked at her for a moment.

Then at his watch.

Eight twenty-three.

He still needed to open the clinic.

“Fine.”

Qin Ruoxi straightened.

“How much?”

“Twenty yuan.”

She froze.

“What?”

“My daughter dropped her ice cream yesterday because one of your family's cars nearly splashed her at the intersection.”

Qin Ruoxi had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Buy her another one.”

Then Lu Chen turned and walked away.

She stood motionless.

The doctor stared after him.

The crowd whispered.

Only the elderly man with the cane wasn't watching Lu Chen's departing back.

He was staring at the three acupuncture needles inside the wooden case before it disappeared beneath Lu Chen's coat.

His face had gone pale.

His hand tightened around his cane.

“No…”

He whispered so quietly that nobody heard him.

“Three needles to open the Life Gate.”

His breathing became heavier.

“That technique disappeared with the Valley of Nine Medicines.”

He looked toward Lu Chen again.

For the first time in many years, genuine fear entered the old man's eyes.

“The Ghost Physician…”

His voice trembled.

“…is still alive.”

Lu Chen knew none of this.

He was already halfway back to his clinic.

His phone vibrated.

A message from Xiaoxiao's kindergarten teacher appeared.

Mr. Lu, Xiaoxiao says she forgot her homework because you ate it.

Lu Chen stopped walking.

He stared at the message.

Then slowly looked toward the sky.

He had just dragged a man back from death.

He had discovered traces of a cultivator in Jiangzhou.

And somehow, neither problem felt as dangerous as what awaited him at kindergarten that afternoon.

Lu Chen typed a reply.

I did not eat her homework.

Three dots appeared.

Then the teacher responded.

She says that's exactly what someone who ate homework would say.

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

“Heaven,” he muttered.

“If this is punishment for something I did in my previous life…”

He put the phone away.

“…you could at least be reasonable.”

High above Jiangzhou, beyond the sight of ordinary people, a thin line of golden light briefly appeared between the clouds.

Then it vanished.

Lu Chen never noticed.

But something else did.

Something that had not looked toward the mortal world in a very long time.

And for the first time since Lu Xiaoxiao was born—

Heaven had begun to pay attention.