………

There was no time for further explanation. Zhong Yongliang turned and ran, and when Gao Xiaofu and Zhang Naipao saw that even Zhong Yongliang had bolted, what chance did the two of them stand against Wei Zhao? They spun around and fled after him, legs churning.

Kang Xiaobo had squeezed his eyes shut and craned his neck, steeling himself for martyrdom. But he waited and waited, and nothing happened. Puzzled, he cracked one eye open, and there were the three of them, sprinting off like rabbits, already dwindling to a wisp of dust.

"Huh?" Kang Xiaobo was struck dumb. What on earth was going on? Could it be that his earlier manly shudder and the unleashing of his kingly aura, capped by the line 'One day I will repay you tenfold, a hundredfold!', had frightened Zhong Yongliang and his cronies away?

Surely not. Did that make him the hero of some legendary tale?

While Kang Xiaobo stood there stunned and doubtful, a large hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped, whirled around, and found Wei Zhao standing behind him, smiling. "What are you doing, spacing out here?"

"Ah!" The sudden sight of Wei Zhao startled him, and in that same instant he understood why the three of them had turned tail and run. It had nothing to do with any kingly aura bursting from his own manly frame; it was because Wei Zhao had arrived, and those three vermin had fled at the mere sight of him.

"Let's go, the bus will be gone soon!" Wei Zhao patted Kang Xiaobo on the shoulder, then turned and walked briskly toward the next intersection, where Uncle Qing parked the car every day.

Earlier, when he and Kang Xiaobo had parted ways, Wei Zhao had glanced back from the corner of his eye and seen Kang Xiaobo surrounded by Zhong Yongliang and his lot. Wei Zhao knew perfectly well that Kang Xiaobo was no match for Zhong Yongliang, so he had gone over to pull him out of the jam.

Kang Xiaobo drew a deep breath and opened his mouth to thank him, only to find that Wei Zhao had already gone far off and vanished from sight. Kang Xiaobo clenched his fist. When would he too be able to stand tall like Wei Zhao, a true man holding up the heavens?

Two days after transferring in, and already he had Zhong Yongliang, one of the school's four great villains, eating out of his hand…

Wei Zhao climbed back into Uncle Qing's Bentley. Gu Mengyao frowned; she said nothing about his getting in, but Shen Yushu looked at him with a grin. "Shield Bro, you're really something. Zhong Yongliang and his friends actually turned and ran the moment they saw you?"

Hearing Shen Yushu say that, Wei Zhao knew she must have watched from the car while he went to help Kang Xiaobo. He smiled, neither confirming nor denying.

"Yaoyao, see? I told you Wei Zhao was the right man for the job. With him at your side, Zhong Yongliang will never pester you again!" Shen Yushu tugged at Gu Mengyao's hand.

"He's not much better than Zhong Yongliang!" Gu Mengyao gave a cold humph, though inwardly she was baffled as well. Could this Wei Zhao really be so capable, bringing Zhong Yongliang to heel in just two days? Hmph. He was probably just a little better at fighting, that was all.

Wei Zhao was long used to Gu Mengyao's attitude and did not take it to heart. A rich young miss was bound to be a little hard to please; so long as she did not find him especially unbearable, that was enough. He was here to carry out a mission, after all, one whose reward would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

Back at the villa, one look at the tissue box on the living-room table brought that awkward scene from the morning back to Wei Zhao. He noticed Shen Yushu off to the side, her eyes darting about like a thief's, and inwardly cried foul. Surely the little minx wasn't cooking up another errand for him. Wei Zhao hurried back to his room.

He had looked up a number of books on the properties and pharmacology of medicines at the bookstore that day, and now, while it was still fresh in his mind, he meant to write it all down as quickly as possible, then work out a viable plan for treating Yang Huaijun.

Yang Huaijun's entire physiology had been thrown into chaos by the drugs sustaining him, a tangle of both Chinese and Western medicine. They kept him alive for the moment, but to put it bluntly, he was an arrow at the end of its flight: the slightest lesion could prove fatal.

To heal every damaged organ at once was out of the question. Even the old man probably lacked that kind of power, and in any case, Wei Zhao had already inherited the whole of the old man's true teachings.

After the careful pulse diagnosis Wei Zhao had conducted that day, the root of Yang Huaijun's illness was clear: his meridians were severed through and through. With the channels linking the five viscera and six bowels broken, the organs' functions were bound to suffer, and organ failure followed.

In such a case, Wei Zhao decided to start with the damaged meridians. Once the meridians throughout his body were cleared, the organs would naturally recover their function. Yang Huaijun was only in his twenties, not yet at the age of bodily decline; these things could heal on their own.

Only after writing out a prescription and treatment plan he was satisfied with did Wei Zhao breathe easy. He had been confident before that he could bring Yang Huaijun back to health, but until he had a workable plan in hand, he had still been somewhat uneasy.

Ah, Wei Zhao sighed. If only Yang Huaijun could practice the Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art that he himself cultivated, none of this trouble would be necessary. But he had promised the old man that apart from the old man and his own master, no fourth person would ever know of it.

The old man counted as a master to Wei Zhao as well, though in the strictest sense he was more like family. And though the old man's skills were no mean thing, the killing techniques Wei Zhao carried had been handed down from another master entirely.

It was said that in their early years, that master and the old man of his own family had weathered hardship together and had once been sworn comrades in life and death. Of course, Wei Zhao did not know the details; he had only the faintest inkling of it.

Click… A faint sound came from outside the room, and Wei Zhao's keen ears caught it at once. He tucked away the prescription and treatment plan, then in a flash was at the door.

A moment later, though, he relaxed. It was Uncle Qing, come to deliver dinner; the sound must have been the door opening.

Wei Zhao opened the door and stepped out. "Uncle Qing."

"Mr. Lin, dinner is ready." Uncle Qing nodded at him with a smile.

Uncle Qing left soon after delivering the meal. Gu Mengyao locked the villa door, then glanced at Wei Zhao, who had just helped Shen Yushu set out the dishes and was walking back to his room. She wanted to call him over to eat with them, but the words reached her lips and she swallowed them again… In that moment of hesitation, Wei Zhao had already gone into his room.

Hmph. Then don't eat. Gu Mengyao was rather annoyed. Yesterday she had already made it clear he was welcome to eat with her, and what does he do but go back to his room.

Had Wei Zhao known what she was thinking, he would surely have cried out at the injustice. It was precisely because he feared offending the young miss that he had helped Shen Yushu lay out the dishes and then retreated to his room, waiting for the two of them to finish before he came out to sweep the table clean.

Not that Wei Zhao minded eating their leftovers, anyway. As Kang Xiaobo liked to say, at school there was a whole line of boys who would fight for the chance to eat Gu Mengyao's and Shen Yushu's leftovers.

"Aren't you going to call Shield Bro to eat with us?" Shen Yushu had wanted to invite Wei Zhao earlier, but she was not sure whether Gu Mengyao would agree.

"Never mind him. Let's just eat." Gu Mengyao got angry all over again whenever she thought about it.