"You've got a point there." Zou Ruoguang nodded. "That A Ku is obviously a total swindler. Only idiots like Zhen Yingjun and his father would fork over fifty thousand yuan. Stupid beyond belief!"

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and Zhen Yingjun showed not the slightest sign of improvement; his constant diarrhea had left him a wreck, swaying on his feet as though he might keel over at any moment.

Zhen Dazhou saw that this would never do — the boy had not improved in the least, but was only worse off — so he hastily dialed Master A Ku's number, hoping to have him come take another look. But from the other end of the line came only the recorded voice: the phone was switched off...

Only then did Zhen Dazhou realize he had been swindled by this so-called Master A Ku! Yet whom could he blame? True, A Ku had been found by Zou Tiandi, but Zou Tiandi had made it clear beforehand that he knew no great immortal and could do no more than help in the search.

The immortal had been found, and only after Zhen Dazhou gave his consent was Zhen Yingjun treated; and the incense money had been offered by Zhen Dazhou of his own free will. No blame could rightly be laid at Zou Tiandi's door.

Zhen Dazhou was furious. Zhen Yingjun was his only son, doted on beyond measure; this trip to Songshan City had been meant to expand the family business and, along the way, give the boy a taste of the wider world — who could have guessed such a calamity would befall them!

In the space of a single night, Zhen Dazhou seemed to wither a great deal, and many more white hairs appeared on his head.

Looking at the sighing Zhen Dazhou, then at Zhen Yingjun writhing in agony on the bed, Zou Tiandi said with a note of sympathy: "I'd say this is probably not possession at all — best take him to a hospital."

Zou Tiandi reasoned thus: since Wei Zhao had transferred the injuries from that stroke-stricken old woman onto Zhen Yingjun, what Zhen Yingjun had must surely be an illness too. What did possession have to do with it?

That remark reminded Zhen Dazhou of something. He rushed his son to the hospital in a frenzy, and the doctors' examination yielded a conclusion! Zhen Yingjun's present symptoms resembled the aftereffects left by stroke, epilepsy, cerebral hemorrhage and the like; for the moment there was no immediately effective treatment, and they suggested he try Chinese massage and acupuncture...

Hearing the doctors out, the Zhen father and son finally understood: this was no possession — the aftereffects of that half-paralyzed old woman really had been transferred onto Zhen Yingjun! Though they had no idea how it was done, the illness had most certainly come to Zhen Yingjun.

Zhen Yingjun wanted to weep but had no tears. Why him? All because he had kicked the half-paralyzed old woman's woven bag? Surely that hardly warranted such cruelty — to transfer her illness straight onto him?

The father and son were sunk in gloom. A shaman had bamboozled them for a while, and in the end the truth turned out to be nothing of the sort — and on top of that, the illness was hard to cure!

The Chinese medicine hospital's explanation was simple enough: no one could guarantee a complete cure. An aftereffect like this could only be treated and observed — perhaps it might ease, and who knew, there might even be a miracle! For on examination, the meridians in Zhen Yingjun's body were blocked to an extraordinary degree!

His case was not the same as the old woman's: hers had been genuine aftereffects, whereas Zhen Yingjun's was an illness manufactured by Wei Zhao's energy, and the pattern of meridian blockage differed as well from ordinary aftereffects!

That is to say, outwardly there was nothing wrong with Zhen Yingjun's body at all; it was simply that his meridians had been sealed by some inexplicable force. This struck the doctors at the Chinese medicine hospital as rather strange, and when they inquired about his medical history, Zhen Yingjun was too embarrassed to admit he had been punished by heaven, and could only answer vaguely.

Yet the more this was so, the less able the doctors were to find a suitable remedy; they could only have him treated and see how things went.

Treated and see how things went? How could Zhen Dazhou let the doctors simply "treat and see"? This was his only son, and now the boy had come to such a pass. If he were not cured, what use was a vast family fortune with no one to inherit it?

So Zhen Dazhou, frantic beyond reason, begged Zou Tiandi to make inquiries among Songshan City's upper crust, to see whether some miracle doctor might cure Zhen Yingjun's affliction. Zhen Dazhou was willing to put up a million yuan as a reward!

Zhen Dazhou truly was desperate, or he would never have offered so much money. He had dragged Zhen Yingjun to one specialist clinic after another, and none had any good treatment plan for his condition!

Big hospitals and private clinics alike — all said "treat and see"; not one promised a cure!

And the partnership between Zhen Dazhou and Zou Tiandi had also stalled for the time being — in fact, this was precisely what Zou Tiandi was glad to see! He truly did not dare have anything more to do with the Zhen father and son now. These two unlucky wretches had provoked Wei Zhao and brought down such disaster — and they still expected him to work with them? Dream on!

What did irk Zou Tiandi, though, was this: since the Zhen father and son were no longer in partnership, why didn't they just scram? What were they still hanging around here for? Weren't there skilled doctors in Donghai too? What was the point of lingering in Songshan City?

In truth, some superstitious notions still lingered in Zhen Dazhou's heart. He believed that since Zhen Yingjun's trouble had arisen in Songshan City, a solution was bound to be found in Songshan City! Such was the cycle of cause and effect! This, too, was why he insisted on staying there for the time being.

At the Geli Fuyun Bar, Li Cihua reported to Zhao Qibing in his wheelchair on the recent goings-on in Songshan City. The demolition had gone fairly smoothly; the residents of the shantytown had received their compensation and moved out happily — only the sum paid out had been a little on the large side.

Having finished with the demolition, Li Cihua recounted the plight and plea for help of the Zhen father and son from Donghai, telling it to Zhao Qibing as a curious tale. Unexpectedly, Zhao Qibing's eyes lit up when he heard it: "He said he'd pay a million in reward? This healing business seems quite profitable, doesn't it?"

"That it does — after all, life matters more than money!" Li Cihua nodded. "And they say Zhen Yingjun's illness is rather peculiar. He got it because he offended Wei Zhao..."

Nothing stays secret forever in this world — especially with both Zou Tiandi and Zou Ruoguang in the know, there was no keeping it quiet. In Songshan City's upper crust, everyone had more or less learned that Zhen Yingjun had suffered this retribution for offending Wei Zhao!

And who was Wei Zhao? The ruthless man who had crippled Zhao Qibing and toppled Qibing Tower! Those pampered young gentlemen knew this perfectly well; it was only out of fear of Zhao Qibing's might that they dared not bring it up casually.

"Wei Zhao? Wei Zhao again?" Zhao Qibing smacked his lips, about to say something, but the Medicine King at his side spoke first...

For the fastest updates and a pop-up-free reading experience, please...