Chapter 19 — The Woman with Nine Frozen Meridians

At 2:53 in the morning, Lu Chen stood in a borrowed apartment holding a business card from a woman he had never met.

SU QINGYUE

He read the handwritten sentence on the back again.

Tell his disciple the patient from twenty-nine years ago is dying again.

Qin Ruoxi sat across from him.

“You’ve read it six times.”

“Seven.”

“That does not improve it.”

Lu Chen turned the card over.

Plain.

Expensive paper.

No company logo.

No phone number.

Nothing except the printed name.

“Who left it?”

Ruoxi rotated the laptop toward him.

Security footage showed the same woman outside the clinic.

Late twenties.

Long black hair.

Pale coat.

“She isn’t Su Qingyue.”

Lu Chen looked at her.

“You checked?”

“Yes.”

Ruoxi opened another file.

Corporate photograph.

A different woman appeared.

Black business suit.

Long dark hair.

Pale complexion.

Cold, composed eyes.

Even in a publicity photograph, she looked like someone who considered smiling an inefficient use of facial muscles.

SU QINGYUE — PRESIDENT & CEO, QINGHE PHARMACEUTICAL GROUP

Lu Chen looked at Ruoxi.

“You know her.”

“By reputation.”

“Good reputation?”

“Depends who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

Ruoxi thought.

“Very competent.”

“That sounded painful.”

“She built Qinghe into one of Jiangzhou’s largest pharmaceutical companies before thirty.”

“Anything medically useful?”

“No.”

“Then mostly irrelevant.”

Ruoxi stared.

“She is worth several billion.”

“Still medically irrelevant.”

“You are remarkably consistent about money for someone who owes me five hundred and twenty million yuan.”

Lu Chen placed the card on the table.

“I thought we agreed not to discuss that.”

“We absolutely did not.”

From the bedroom came a sleepy voice.

“Daddy?”

Both became quiet.

Xiaoxiao appeared in the doorway.

Hair everywhere.

Stuffed rabbit under one arm.

One eye mostly closed.

“You’re loud.”

Lu Chen glanced toward Ruoxi.

She pointed at him.

Traitor.

“Go back to sleep.”

Xiaoxiao shuffled toward him instead.

He lifted her onto his lap.

She rested her head against his chest.

“What’s that?”

“Business card.”

“Pretty Auntie?”

Ruoxi raised an eyebrow.

Lu Chen answered quickly.

“No.”

Xiaoxiao opened both eyes.

“New pretty auntie?”

Ruoxi smiled.

Lu Chen reconsidered every decision that had brought him to this moment.

“It is a patient.”

“Oh.”

Xiaoxiao immediately lost interest.

Good.

Then:

“Is she pretty?”

Ruoxi laughed.

Lu Chen looked toward the ceiling.

Perhaps Heaven was already punishing him.

His phone rang.

Unknown number.

He answered.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice came immediately.

Controlled.

Professional.

But strained.

“Is this Doctor Lu?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Lin Yue. I left the card at your clinic.”

The woman from the video.

“Where is Su Qingyue?”

A pause.

“Qinghe Tower.”

“Why not hospital?”

“We have a private medical suite.”

“That did not answer the question.”

Another pause.

Then:

“President Su refuses transfer.”

Of course.

“Why?”

“She says hospitals have failed for twenty-eight years.”

Lu Chen’s expression changed.

Twenty-eight years.

The card said twenty-nine.

Close.

Not accidental.

“What is happening now?”

“Temperature falling.”

“How low?”

“Thirty-four point one Celsius.”

“Heart rate?”

“Forty-eight.”

“Oxygen?”

“Ninety-three and declining.”

“Conscious?”

“Yes.”

In the background, a different female voice said coldly:

“Lin Yue.”

The assistant immediately became quieter.

Apparently Su Qingyue was conscious enough to object to being discussed.

Lu Chen asked:

“When did this attack begin?”

“About forty minutes ago.”

“Trigger?”

“Unknown.”

“Previous lowest temperature?”

“Thirty-three point eight.”

“Any arrhythmia?”

“Yes.”

“How often does this happen?”

“Severe episodes? Usually once or twice a year.”

“Usually?”

Lin Yue’s voice tightened.

“This is the third this month.”

Interesting.

“What treatments?”

“Warming fluids. Steroids during earlier suspected autoimmune episodes. Hormonal evaluations. Neurological workups. Cardiac medication when necessary. Traditional medicine. Acupuncture. Everything.”

“Diagnosis?”

Another pause.

“Nine Yin Meridian Syndrome.”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

He knew that name.

Not a real recognized condition.

A folk medical label sometimes used by hidden martial physicians for unexplained cold constitutions.

Usually inaccurate.

“Who diagnosed that?”

“Doctor Shen from the Capital Traditional Medicine Association.”

“When?”

“Eight years ago.”

“Did he treat her?”

“Yes.”

“Result?”

“Temporary improvement.”

Lu Chen looked toward the half-jade pendant lying on the table.

It remained cold.

Not freezing now.

But noticeably colder than the room.

Master.

Twenty-nine years ago.

A patient.

“Did Su Qingyue know Lu Tianhe?”

Lin Yue hesitated.

“No.”

“Then why was his name on the card?”

This time another voice answered.

Su Qingyue herself.

“Because my grandfather kept it for twenty-nine years.”

The voice was calm despite obvious weakness.

Lu Chen looked toward Ruoxi.

“Your grandfather met Lu Tianhe?”

“Yes.”

“When you were a baby?”

Silence.

Then:

“You ask too many questions for a man who has not agreed to come.”

“I ask exactly enough.”

“You are not Lu Tianhe.”

“No.”

“Then why should I trust you?”

Lu Chen looked at the card.

“You shouldn’t.”

That earned silence.

Then Su said:

“That is a poor way to attract patients.”

“I already have patients.”

“You are unusually arrogant.”

“No. I am unusually tired.”

Ruoxi covered her mouth.

Xiaoxiao, half asleep against Lu Chen, murmured:

“Daddy is grumpy.”

Su Qingyue heard.

A brief silence.

“Is that a child?”

“My daughter.”

“You are discussing a medical emergency while holding your daughter?”

“She was asleep until your assistant called.”

Lin Yue whispered somewhere in the background:

“President Su…”

Su ignored her.

“If you are not coming, say so.”

Lu Chen looked at the time.

Then at Xiaoxiao.

Then toward Ruoxi.

Ruoxi held out her arms.

“I’ll stay.”

He hesitated.

Xiaoxiao opened one eye.

“Go save her.”

Lu Chen looked down.

“You don’t even know her.”

“She’s sick.”

Apparently that was sufficient.

He transferred Xiaoxiao carefully to Ruoxi.

Xiaoxiao immediately grabbed Ruoxi’s sleeve.

“Pretty Auntie.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let Daddy forget breakfast.”

Ruoxi smiled.

“I’ll do my best.”

Lu Chen stood.

Into the phone, he said:

“Address.”

Qinghe Tower rose fifty-two floors above central Jiangzhou.

At three thirty-seven in the morning, most of it was dark.

The top three floors were not.

Lu Chen entered through a private parking elevator.

Lin Yue waited downstairs.

She was the woman from the clinic footage.

Up close, she appeared early thirties.

Professional.

Tired.

Concerned enough that she had stopped hiding it.

“You came alone?”

“Yes.”

She looked behind him.

“No medical team?”

“No.”

Her expression immediately worsened.

“President Su currently has three doctors upstairs.”

“Then you already have a medical team.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

The elevator doors opened.

She pressed the top-floor access key.

“Doctor Lu.”

“Yes?”

“If you cannot treat her—”

“I will tell you.”

“If you can?”

“I will also tell you.”

“You don’t inspire confidence.”

“I’m not selling insurance.”

She stopped speaking.

The elevator rose.

Lu Chen checked the needle case inside his coat.

Returning Spring remained at the apartment.

Good.

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A sword would not improve a medical consultation.

The half-jade was beneath his shirt.

The Third Bell key remained secured elsewhere.

He carried only medicine.

That felt correct.

The elevator stopped.

The doors opened.

Cold air struck his face.

Lu Chen frowned.

Too cold.

Not building air-conditioning.

Spiritual cold.

He activated Life Meridian perception before taking a second step.

And saw the frost.

Not physical frost.

Pale blue-white spiritual energy covered the hallway.

Thin.

Weak.

But spreading from one room.

Lin Yue rubbed her hands.

“The climate system has malfunctioned twice tonight.”

“No.”

She looked at him.

“No?”

“It’s working.”

“Then why—”

“Later.”

He walked.

Private medical suite.

Two physicians stood beside monitors.

One elderly traditional medicine doctor was holding a warming needle over a small lamp.

A young emergency specialist watched the cardiac tracing.

And on the bed—

Su Qingyue.

The photograph had been accurate.

That was rare.

She looked almost exactly like her corporate portrait.

Except now her lips had lost most of their color.

Her skin was frighteningly pale.

Long black hair spread across a pillow.

A thermal blanket covered her.

Intravenous warming fluids ran into one arm.

She remained conscious.

Barely.

Her eyes moved toward Lu Chen.

Cold.

Not spiritually.

Personally.

“You’re young.”

Lu Chen checked the monitor.

“People keep saying that.”

“You’re Lu Tianhe’s disciple?”

“Possibly.”

Her eyebrows moved.

“Possibly?”

“He did most of the teaching. I did most of the ignoring.”

The elderly traditional doctor frowned.

“This is not a time for jokes.”

Lu Chen looked toward him.

“Then why are you heating the Shaoshang point?”

The old doctor’s expression changed.

“What?”

“It won’t help.”

“You haven’t examined her.”

“I have eyes.”

The man bristled.

“I have practiced traditional medicine for forty-three years.”

“Then you have excellent endurance.”

Lin Yue closed her eyes.

Su Qingyue looked at Lu Chen more carefully.

The emergency physician stepped forward.

“Doctor Lu, President Su’s temperature is thirty-three point six. She has intermittent bradyarrhythmia, peripheral vasoconstriction, and worsening mental status. We need to move her to hospital-level care.”

“Agreed.”

Su said immediately:

“No.”

Lu Chen looked at her.

“Then disagree somewhere warmer.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I did not call you here to tell me to go to a hospital.”

“You didn’t call me.”

That stopped her.

“Your assistant did.”

Lin Yue looked suddenly interested in the floor.

Lu Chen approached the bed.

“Hand.”

Su did not move.

He waited.

She stared.

He stared back.

Finally:

“You are very accustomed to being obeyed.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not.”

“Clearly.”

“Hand.”

She gave it to him.

Her skin was cold.

Too cold.

He checked her ordinary pulse.

Slow.

Deep.

Weak.

Then activated Life Meridian perception fully.

And the room disappeared.

Nine meridians.

Nine locks.

Lu Chen stopped breathing.

Not frozen.

Sealed.

Each major channel had a pale silver structure wrapped around it.

Not ice.

Spiritual restraints.

Fine enough that an ordinary cultivator might mistake them for congenital cold meridians.

But Lu Chen saw the difference.

Natural disorders grew with the body.

These did not.

They had been placed.

Deliberately.

One around the Lung Meridian.

One Heart.

One Pericardium.

One Kidney.

One Liver.

Others around deeper pathways.

Nine total.

Each seal shaped like a thin silver nail surrounded by microscopic script.

Old.

Extremely old.

And as Su’s body grew—

the seals had grown with her.

Whoever placed them understood human development.

That was disturbing.

Lu Chen followed the first.

Age imprint.

Infancy.

Second.

Also infancy.

All nine.

Not twenty-eight years.

Older.

Nearly her entire life.

His expression changed.

Su noticed immediately.

“What?”

Lu Chen said nothing.

The Heart seal tightened.

Monitor alarmed.

Heart rate dropped.

Forty-two.

Thirty-nine.

The emergency physician stepped forward.

“We need atropine ready.”

“Do it.”

Lu Chen did not interfere.

Modern treatment first.

He continued examining.

The seals were connected.

A nine-point formation built inside a baby.

Why?

Not to simply kill.

If murder had been the goal, one seal would have been enough.

This was restraint.

Suppression.

Containment.

Or delayed execution.

He looked deeper.

At the center of the nine seals—

something moved.

Tiny.

A thread of silver light.

Bloodline?

No.

Not yet.

Too deep to determine.

Su’s pulse dropped again.

Thirty-five.

The emergency physician administered treatment.

Temporary response.

Forty-one.

Then thirty-eight.

Lu Chen removed three needles.

The traditional doctor frowned.

“Where are you placing those?”

“Not where you think.”

He inserted the first.

Neiguan.

Second.

Shenmen.

Third—

not a conventional point.

Two centimeters below the heart channel intersection.

The traditional doctor’s eyes widened.

“That point does not exist.”

“It does tonight.”

Su Qingyue’s gaze sharpened despite her weakness.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive.”

“That is not an explanation.”

“Then remain alive long enough for the longer version.”

He rotated the first needle.

Life Essence entered.

The Heart seal reacted.

Violently.

Cold exploded across the bed.

Actual frost appeared on the IV pole.

Lin Yue gasped.

The emergency doctor stepped backward.

The traditional physician stopped breathing.

Su’s eyes widened.

For the first time—

fear.

“What is that?”

Lu Chen did not answer.

The silver seal tightened around her Heart Meridian.

It was defending itself.

A seal should not do that unless designed to resist treatment.

Deliberate.

No question now.

Someone had placed these inside her and expected a physician might eventually interfere.

Clever.

Lu Chen disliked them immediately.

He reduced Life Essence.

Do not break the seal.

Not yet.

If he shattered Heart first, the other eight might collapse inward.

Could kill her.

Instead—

bypass.

He used the needle to create a temporary route around the seal.

The Life Seed pulsed.

A fine golden thread extended.

Around silver.

Not through.

Su inhaled sharply.

Her heart rate climbed.

Forty-one.

Forty-six.

Fifty-two.

The emergency physician stared at the monitor.

“What did you do?”

“Detour.”

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

Temperature:

33.7.

Then 33.9.

Tiny.

But upward.

The traditional physician looked at Lu Chen differently now.

Not convinced.

But no longer dismissive.

Good.

Su’s eyes closed briefly.

Then opened.

“Again.”

Lu Chen frowned.

“What?”

“Whatever you did.”

“No.”

Her expression hardened.

“Why?”

“Because your heart is not the only problem.”

He pointed toward her abdomen.

“Your kidneys are next.”

“How do you know?”

“Because whoever designed this likes symmetry.”

She stared.

Lin Yue stepped closer.

“Doctor Lu, what are you saying?”

Lu Chen looked at Su.

“Your condition has a name?”

“Nine Yin Meridian Syndrome.”

“That is wrong.”

The traditional doctor immediately objected.

“Her symptoms match—”

“I said it is wrong.”

His voice remained calm.

The old man stopped.

Lu Chen looked directly at Su Qingyue.

“You do not have nine frozen meridians.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What do I have?”

“Nine sealed ones.”

Silence.

Lin Yue frowned.

“Sealed?”

“Yes.”

“By what?”

“Someone.”

The room became very quiet.

Su’s gaze did not change.

But her pulse did.

Lu Chen felt it.

“Someone did this to me?”

“Yes.”

“That is impossible.”

“Frequently heard phrase.”

“I was diagnosed as a child.”

“Yes.”

“With a congenital condition.”

“No.”

“You’re telling me every doctor for twenty-eight years was wrong?”

“No.”

She looked surprised.

Lu Chen adjusted the second needle.

“They saw what they were capable of seeing.”

He glanced toward the monitors.

“They treated the effects.”

Then toward her meridians.

“They could not see the cause.”

The traditional physician slowly asked:

“How old are the seals?”

Lu Chen looked at Su.

“Almost as old as she is.”

Lin Yue inhaled.

Su’s eyes became colder.

“When?”

“Infancy.”

“No.”

“You asked.”

“My grandfather said I became sick when I was two.”

“That may be when the symptoms began.”

Lu Chen moved to her wrist.

“The seals are older.”

“How much older?”

“Months. Maybe more.”

Su stared at him.

Her face revealed almost nothing.

But her hand became rigid beneath his fingers.

Twenty-eight years believing she had been born weak.

Twenty-eight years of unexplained attacks.

Twenty-eight years of doctors.

Medicines.

Hospitals.

Restrictions.

And now a stranger had walked in at three in the morning and told her someone had done it intentionally.

She had every reason not to believe him.

Good.

Blind belief was dangerous.

“Prove it,” she said.

Lu Chen looked at her.

“No.”

That clearly was not the answer expected.

“Why not?”

“Because proving it the way you want would require me to disturb one of the seals.”

“And?”

“You might die.”

She said nothing.

“Your curiosity is not a medical indication.”

Lin Yue almost smiled.

Su noticed.

The assistant immediately became professional again.

“Can you cure it?”

Lu Chen’s answer came immediately.

“Not tonight.”

Su’s expression became colder.

“Can you or can you not?”

“I don’t know.”

The room went still.

The traditional physician looked surprised.

Perhaps expecting arrogance.

Su studied him.

“You came here without knowing whether you can cure me.”

“Yes.”

“Then what exactly are you offering?”

“Time.”

“Meaning?”

Lu Chen looked at the nine silver seals.

“The current cascade can be stopped.”

“How long?”

“If I do it correctly?”

“Yes.”

“Several weeks. Maybe longer.”

“That is not a cure.”

“No.”

“I don’t need temporary treatment.”

“Your heart stopped approaching forty beats per minute ten minutes ago.”

He looked at her.

“You need temporary treatment.”

Su Qingyue was not accustomed to losing arguments.

Lu Chen could tell.

She became quieter whenever she became angrier.

Interesting.

“I want the seals removed.”

“No.”

“You refuse?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what they are sealing.”

That silenced everyone.

Su looked toward him.

“You said they are causing the condition.”

“Yes.”

“Then remove them.”

“That is how people die in bad stories.”

The traditional physician coughed.

Lu Chen continued:

“A lock can imprison something dangerous.”

He looked at the pale silver structure.

“Or protect something valuable.”

Su’s eyes changed.

“And mine?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then find out.”

“That is the plan.”

Finally.

A sensible instruction.

The fourth attack began without warning.

Su’s hands clenched.

The monitor spiked.

Then dropped.

Her entire body temperature fell by half a degree in less than thirty seconds.

Lin Yue’s face changed.

“President Su.”

Lu Chen saw it.

Seal Four.

Kidney Meridian.

Activating.

Then Five.

Liver.

Chain cascade.

Damn.

The first temporary bypass had triggered the network.

Not because he did something wrong.

Because the seals were designed to respond together.

Of course.

Nine locks.

One structure.

He removed two more needles.

The traditional doctor stepped closer.

“Need help?”

Lu Chen looked at him.

Finally useful question.

“Warm towels. Not hot.”

The man moved instantly.

“Lin Yue.”

“Yes?”

“Stop warming the room further.”

She frowned.

“Why?”

“Her skin temperature is not the real problem.”

He looked toward the emergency physician.

“Continue monitoring. Treat the heart if rhythm destabilizes. Don’t give anything new without telling me.”

The physician nodded.

No argument now.

Su Qingyue’s body trembled.

Barely.

She was fighting it.

Not crying.

Not panicking.

Still trying to remain composed.

Lu Chen almost found that more concerning.

“Stop holding your breath.”

She looked at him.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I can breathe.”

“Then demonstrate.”

She glared.

But breathed.

Good.

He inserted needle four.

Kidney pathway.

Life Essence.

Not into the seal.

Around.

Another detour.

Pain hit Lu Chen’s own meridian.

His Life Seed output was already dropping.

Nine seals.

He could not bypass all nine tonight.

Not safely.

Need a central route.

He searched.

The seals connected through a point behind the navel.

No.

Deeper.

Behind the sternum.

No.

Then—

there.

A common strand traveling along the spine.

A master control.

Not a tenth seal.

A linking thread.

If he warmed that—

perhaps all nine would loosen slightly.

Risk.

Large.

But better than nine separate bridges.

He hesitated.

Su saw it.

“You don’t know what to do.”

“Incorrect.”

“You hesitated.”

“I am deciding which dangerous option is less stupid.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“Medicine rarely is.”

He placed one hand beneath her neck.

“Turn.”

She stared.

“Why?”

“I need your spine.”

The emergency doctor looked very uncomfortable with that sentence.

Su slowly turned enough.

Lu Chen found the point between two vertebrae.

Not conventional.

The silver linking thread passed underneath.

He raised a needle.

Then stopped.

The half-jade beneath his shirt became ice-cold.

His expression changed.

Master’s pendant.

Reacting.

Why?

He touched it.

A memory fragment flashed.

Not his.

The jade.

Lu Tianhe’s voice.

Very faint.

Nine cold nails.

Lu Chen froze.

Again.

Do not pull.

Then nothing.

The trace vanished.

His master had seen this before.

This exact condition.

Twenty-nine years ago.

Of course.

He looked at Su.

“You were his patient.”

She stopped.

“Lu Tianhe?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“He recognized the technique.”

“You have his records?”

“No.”

“Then—”

“Something he left did.”

That was as much as he would explain.

Su’s eyes narrowed.

“What did he call it?”

Lu Chen looked at the nine seals.

“Nine Cold Nails.”

The elderly traditional doctor whispered:

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

Lu Chen understood the warning.

Do not pull.

Meaning do not remove the seals.

At least not directly.

Good.

His instinct had been correct.

The linking thread could be adjusted.

Not broken.

He inserted the spinal needle.

Life Essence moved.

The silver network reacted.

Every frost line in the room expanded at once.

Windows turned white.

Lin Yue gasped.

Su’s body arched.

Lu Chen held the needle steady.

“Do not move.”

“I wasn’t planning to!”

Good.

Anger was energy.

He pushed one tiny thread of gold into the master connection.

Not enough to break.

Enough to separate.

The nine silver seals loosened.

Only fractionally.

But all at once.

Su gasped.

Warmth returned to her face.

The monitor responded.

Heart rate fifty-six.

Sixty-one.

Temperature 34.2.

Then 34.6.

The emergency physician stared.

“Temperature is rising.”

“Good.”

“Fast.”

“Less good.”

Lu Chen reduced the flow.

34.8.

Stable.

The frost on the window began melting.

One drop of water ran down the glass.

Then another.

The room warmed.

Su Qingyue closed her eyes.

For perhaps the first time in hours—

her body stopped shivering.

Lu Chen removed his hand.

“Done.”

She opened her eyes.

“That’s it?”

“For tonight.”

“You said several weeks.”

“I bought you approximately that.”

“Approximately?”

“Yes.”

“I dislike approximate numbers.”

“Then choose a different disease.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Lin Yue suddenly coughed into her hand to hide a laugh.

Su looked toward her.

The assistant became deeply interested in the IV pump.

Twenty minutes later, Su Qingyue sat upright.

Her temperature had reached 35.6 and continued climbing slowly under conventional warming.

Not normal.

But safe enough.

Her lips had regained color.

The emergency physician looked personally offended by the improvement.

The traditional doctor looked fascinated.

“Doctor Lu.”

Lu Chen packed his needles.

“Yes?”

“May I ask where you trained?”

“No.”

The man blinked.

“Why?”

“I am tired.”

Surprisingly, the old doctor laughed.

“Fair.”

He bowed slightly.

Not deeply.

Respectful.

Lu Chen returned the gesture.

Better.

Su watched.

Then said:

“Everyone out.”

Lin Yue hesitated.

“President Su—”

“Except Doctor Lu.”

The assistant looked toward him.

Lu Chen shrugged.

Not his building.

The others left.

Lin Yue was last.

She closed the door.

Su Qingyue sat beneath the thermal blanket.

Even recovering from near collapse, she looked like she should be chairing a board meeting.

“Your fee.”

“Fifty yuan.”

Silence.

She stared.

“For what?”

“Consultation.”

“You came to Qinghe Tower at four in the morning.”

“House call surcharge.”

“How much?”

Lu Chen thought.

“One hundred.”

For the first time—

Su Qingyue looked genuinely confused.

“One hundred yuan?”

“Yes.”

“You saved my life.”

“Probably.”

“And you want one hundred yuan.”

“Correct.”

She studied him for several seconds.

“You’re either pretending not to care about money or very bad at business.”

“Both have been suggested.”

She reached for her phone.

Lu Chen raised a hand.

“Cash or normal transfer.”

“What does normal mean?”

“Not a number that requires legal paperwork.”

She almost smiled.

Almost.

It disappeared before becoming real.

“I can pay you one million.”

“No.”

“Ten.”

“No.”

“One hundred.”

“No.”

“Million.”

“I understood.”

“Then why refuse?”

“Because I said one hundred yuan.”

Su leaned back.

“You spent more than that getting here.”

“Probably.”

“You make no sense.”

“Frequently.”

She looked toward the melted frost on the window.

Then back at him.

“What do you want?”

“Information.”

Her eyes sharpened.

There.

Business language.

Something she understood.

“About?”

“Twenty-nine years ago.”

“My grandfather?”

“Yes.”

“He is dead.”

“Records?”

“Some.”

“Bring them.”

“That is not a small request.”

“Neither are nine seals.”

Silence.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

“Anything involving Lu Tianhe.”

“You think he knew what happened to me.”

“I know he did.”

“How?”

“The thing he left recognized your seals.”

Su looked toward his chest.

The pendant.

She noticed more than most.

“An artifact?”

Lu Chen said nothing.

She did not press.

Interesting.

Instead:

“My grandfather never explained why he kept Lu Tianhe’s name.”

“Did he leave instructions?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Only to find him if all nine episodes occurred in the same year.”

Lu Chen frowned.

“All nine episodes?”

“That was his wording.”

“How many have occurred?”

Su’s expression tightened.

“Nine.”

Tonight.

The ninth major cascade.

Not simply third this month.

Nine distinct episodes in the past year?

“Dates.”

She looked at him.

“You want my full medical history.”

“Yes.”

“That is confidential.”

“You are speaking to your doctor.”

“You have not agreed to be my doctor.”

Lu Chen stood.

“Then goodnight.”

Su stared.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

“You just told me someone sealed my meridians as a baby.”

“Yes.”

“And now you are walking out.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You are not my patient.”

Her expression became colder.

“You’re trying to force me into agreeing.”

“No.”

He picked up his coat.

“I am respecting your statement.”

That silenced her.

Lu Chen walked toward the door.

“Doctor Lu.”

He stopped.

Su looked irritated.

Perhaps at him.

Perhaps at herself.

“What does being your patient require?”

“Listening occasionally.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Occasionally?”

“I am realistic.”

“And?”

“Follow-up testing.”

“Fine.”

“Not attempting to buy treatment decisions.”

A pause.

“Fine.”

“Not ordering me to break seals I haven’t understood.”

Longer pause.

“Fine.”

“And one hundred yuan.”

This time she actually smiled.

Very slightly.

Cold face transforming for less than a second.

Then gone.

“I’ll pay the hundred.”

Lu Chen nodded.

“You’re my patient.”

“Your standards are strange.”

“Yes.”

He returned to the bedside.

“Now give me dates.”

Su opened a secure medical file on her tablet.

Nine episodes.

The first eleven months ago.

Then eight months.

Seven.

Five.

Three.

Two.

Three weeks.

Nine days.

Tonight.

Accelerating.

Lu Chen frowned.

“Someone is activating them.”

Su’s expression hardened.

“You’re certain?”

“No.”

That annoyed her.

“But natural failure usually isn’t this orderly.”

He looked at the timing.

Intervals shrinking.

A countdown?

Maybe.

Or seals aging.

Need evidence.

“What happened before the first episode?”

“Nothing unusual.”

“Think.”

“I remember my own life.”

“People rarely do accurately.”

She gave him a dangerous look.

Lu Chen continued:

“New employee?”

“No.”

“Travel?”

“Switzerland.”

“Medical treatment?”

“Routine.”

“Acquisition?”

Su stopped.

There.

“What?”

“My company acquired a small biotech firm eleven months ago.”

“Name.”

“Hanmei Biologics.”

“Relevant product?”

“We bought them for immunotherapy research.”

“Anything traditional?”

“No.”

Then she reconsidered.

“One archived project.”

“What?”

“Meridian conduction.”

Lu Chen looked at her.

“That is not normal biotech terminology.”

“No.”

“Who founded the company?”

“An elderly physician named Shen Yao.”

Shen.

Could be meaningless.

Probably was.

Do not chase surnames.

“Alive?”

“Died two years ago.”

“Convenient.”

Su noticed his tone.

“What?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Thinking things and refusing to explain them.”

“That is how thinking works.”

“You are irritating.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She looked at the dates again.

“The attacks began after the acquisition.”

“Maybe coincidence.”

“You don’t believe in coincidence.”

“I believe in evidence.”

Good.

She looked at him differently.

Less dismissive now.

“Then what evidence do you need?”

“Your childhood records.”

“Available.”

“Your grandfather’s papers.”

“Some stored privately.”

“Anything Lu Tianhe touched.”

She hesitated.

“There is one item.”

“What?”

“A needle.”

Lu Chen’s attention sharpened.

“What kind?”

“Silver.”

“Where?”

“Family vault.”

“Why keep one needle for twenty-nine years?”

“Because my grandfather said it stopped my heart from freezing.”

Lu Chen became very still.

“He used it on you?”

“Yes.”

“How old?”

“About one.”

So Lu Tianhe treated Su Qingyue as an infant.

Exactly.

“What did he say?”

“My grandfather wrote it down.”

“Exact words.”

Su opened an old scanned note.

Faded handwriting.

Not Lu Tianhe’s.

Her grandfather’s transcription.

She read:

“‘The child is not sick. Someone has placed winter inside her.’”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

That sounded like Master.

She continued.

“‘Do not remove the nails until the physician who can see life returns.’”

Lu Chen stopped.

Returns.

Not arrives.

Returns.

Could refer to Lu Tianhe himself.

Or—

someone else.

Su read the final line.

“‘If I am dead by then, tell my disciple that nine nails are not meant to kill the child.’”

Silence.

Lu Chen looked at her.

“What are they meant to do?”

Su’s voice became quiet.

“My grandfather wrote one more sentence.”

“Read it.”

She did.

“‘They are meant to keep her from becoming what she was born to become.’”

The room became very still.

Lu Chen looked back toward her nine sealed meridians.

So not execution.

Suppression.

Bloodline?

Cultivation talent?

Something else?

Su Qingyue saw his expression.

“You know what that means.”

“No.”

“You suspect.”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Lu Chen considered.

Then answered honestly.

“Someone was afraid of you before you could speak.”

For the first time that night—

Su Qingyue had no response.

The Life Seed pulsed.

Lu Chen’s expression changed.

The Nine Medicines manuscript was far away.

But he felt the acknowledgment anyway.

Not immediately.

A slow golden warmth.

Then certainty.

Another life.

13.

Su Qingyue had been close enough to death.

The First Medicine recognized it.

Thirteen acknowledged lives.

Eighty-seven to the First Gate.

Lu Chen did not smile.

This one was different.

Because saving her had not ended anything.

It had opened a twenty-eight-year-old medical case.

He looked toward the nine seals.

“Your next episode may happen sooner than the previous interval suggests.”

“How soon?”

“I don’t know.”

“Days?”

“Possible.”

“Weeks?”

“Possible.”

“Months?”

“Less likely.”

Su’s face hardened.

“Then your treatment bought me very little.”

“It bought us time to understand the seal before breaking it.”

“I don’t like waiting.”

“I noticed.”

“I built a company because I don’t wait for people.”

“Your meridians are unlikely to care about your management style.”

She stared.

He continued packing.

“I want the needle Lu Tianhe left.”

“You’ll have it.”

“Childhood records.”

“Yes.”

“Information about Hanmei Biologics.”

“Yes.”

“Especially the Meridian Conduction project.”

She nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Do not tell anyone outside this room that I said the seals were deliberate.”

Her eyes sharpened.

“You think the person responsible could still be watching.”

“Your attacks accelerated after twenty-eight years.”

He looked at her.

“I think we should assume someone still cares whether those seals remain closed.”

Su Qingyue became completely still.

Then:

“I have spent my entire life assuming my body was unreliable.”

Her voice was quiet.

Not emotional.

Somehow that made it heavier.

“And you are telling me somebody may have been checking their work.”

“Yes.”

No comfort.

No lie.

Just truth.

Su looked toward the window.

The frost had almost fully melted.

“Then I want their name.”

Lu Chen picked up his needle case.

“So do I.”

“Will you find it?”

He looked at her.

“I’m a physician.”

“That was not my question.”

“It is my answer.”

She frowned.

Lu Chen continued:

“First I find out what they did.”

Then his expression cooled.

“After that, we can discuss who.”

For some reason, that answer satisfied her more.

At 5:18 a.m., Lu Chen left Qinghe Tower.

Lin Yue followed him to the elevator.

“How is she?”

“Alive.”

“I noticed.”

“Then good.”

“Doctor Lu.”

“Yes?”

“President Su is difficult.”

“I noticed.”

“But she listens when she trusts someone.”

“That seems statistically unlikely.”

Lin Yue smiled.

“You handled her better than most.”

“I threatened to leave.”

“Exactly.”

The elevator arrived.

Before the doors closed, Lin Yue held out an envelope.

“What is that?”

“Your fee.”

Lu Chen looked inside.

One hundred yuan.

Exactly.

He nodded.

“Good.”

Then noticed something else.

A chocolate candy.

He looked at her.

Lin Yue said:

“Your daughter was on the phone.”

“That does not explain this.”

“President Su told me to add it.”

Lu Chen paused.

“Why?”

Lin Yue smiled faintly.

“She heard your daughter woke up because of us.”

Interesting.

Lu Chen took the envelope.

The doors closed.

At 5:41 a.m., Su Qingyue stood in front of the medical suite window.

Against every doctor’s recommendation.

Of course.

Her temperature was 36.1.

Almost normal.

The cold inside her body had retreated.

Not disappeared.

She could feel it.

Nine buried winters.

Waiting.

Lin Yue returned.

“He left.”

Su nodded.

“Fee?”

“One hundred.”

“Good.”

Lin Yue hesitated.

“What?”

“You liked him.”

Su turned slowly.

“No.”

“You listened to him.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“You smiled.”

Su’s expression cooled.

“You are tired.”

“Probably.”

“Go sleep.”

Lin Yue almost left.

Then:

“President Su.”

“What?”

“Do you believe him?”

Su looked down at her hand.

For as long as she could remember, her fingers became cold before every episode.

Doctors called it circulation.

Hormones.

Stress.

Autoimmune disease.

Rare syndrome.

Constitution.

Tonight, she had watched frost form from nothing.

Watched three needles change what years of treatments could not.

And heard a stranger tell her that the weakness defining her entire childhood had been placed inside her deliberately.

“Not yet.”

Lin Yue nodded.

Then Su added:

“But I believe he saw something no one else did.”

That was enough.

For now.

At the same time, beneath an old residence outside Jiangzhou, the Third Bell patient suddenly opened his eyes.

Jian Wei sat beside the needle formation.

He immediately stood.

“Do not move.”

The man ignored him.

Of course.

His head turned east.

Toward Jiangzhou.

Toward Qinghe Tower.

One of the nine artificial needles trembled.

Not from failure.

Recognition.

The patient whispered:

“Cold…”

Jian frowned.

“What?”

The man’s gray eyes widened.

“Nine…”

His breathing changed.

“Nine Cold Nails.”

Jian became still.

“You know them?”

The patient tried to rise.

Jian pressed him down.

“Doctor’s orders.”

“Lu Tianhe…”

Breath.

“…found her?”

“Found who?”

The man’s face became pale.

“No.”

He looked genuinely frightened.

“He must not remove them.”

Jian’s expression hardened.

“Why?”

The patient grabbed his sleeve.

“Because they are not sealing her cultivation.”

Silence.

“What are they sealing?”

The man stared east.

Then whispered:

“Her blood.”

Twenty-seven kilometers away, in a private room with no windows, nine silver needles stood vertically inside a block of black ice.

Eight remained perfectly still.

The ninth—

the one corresponding to Su Qingyue’s Heart Meridian—

had developed a thin golden line.

A hand entered the room.

Old.

Gloved.

One finger touched the damaged needle.

The ice cracked.

A voice spoke from the darkness.

“The Valley physician touched the first nail.”

Another voice answered:

“Lu Tianhe?”

“No.”

A pause.

“Then?”

The old hand slowly withdrew.

“His disciple.”

Silence.

Then a soft laugh.

“The Ghost Physician.”

Another crack spread across the ice.

“What should we do?”

The figure in darkness looked at the nine needles.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“The nails held for twenty-eight years.”

The voice became calm.

“If Lu Chen wants to learn why they were placed…”

A faint smile.

“…let him cure her.”

The ninth silver needle trembled.

“And when the last nail breaks?”

The smile vanished.

“Then Su Qingyue will learn why her mother begged us to seal them.”