The thunderbolt struck without warning, catching everyone off guard.
Their jaws dropped at the sight.
“Damn, Ye Qiu’s got a real crow’s mouth!”
“Who else would you provoke but the Heavenly Dao? Isn’t that just begging to die?”
“He’s done for this time!”
The massive thunder roared like a dragon tearing through the sky, brimming with world-shattering power.
Ye Qiu desperately wanted to slap himself.
*Grandma’s sake, I just wanted to flex a little—who knew it’d turn out like this?*
“Guess I’ll keep a low profile from now on. No more showing off, or I’ll get zapped again.”
“Wait—can the Heavenly Dao actually understand human speech?”
“Otherwise, why would it send down thunder?”
He noticed this bolt wasn’t aimed at General Bai—it was coming for him.
Every hair on his body stood on end as a primal sense of life-or-death danger gripped him.
“Buzz!”
The void itself seemed to quake. The thunderbolt streaked down like a comet, its blinding light pouring from the heavens like a galaxy unleashed—vast, terrifying, bone-chilling.
Ye Qiu scrambled back, distancing himself from the bed.
“Boom!”
The thunder engulfed him in an instant.
Everyone assumed it would vanish quickly, like before.
But this time was different.
The thunder didn’t dissipate—it wrapped around Ye Qiu, as if determined to reduce him to ash before relenting.
Tang Fei’s face went pale. “It’s over. Ye Qiu’s dead for sure.”
Tang Lao’s voice trembled with fear. “The wrath of the Heavenly Dao is the wrath of thunder—no mortal flesh can withstand it.”
“What a pity—a genius healer about to fall,” Zhang Jiuling mourned.
Of everyone there, Bai Bing was the most heartbroken.
Her eyes reddened, tears streaming down.
She knew if she hadn’t begged Ye Qiu to save her grandfather, he wouldn’t be facing this lightning.
“Ye Qiu, I’m sorry. This is my fault.”
“It’s all my mistake.”
“If you die, I won’t live alone.”
She whispered inwardly, tears multiplying.
Inside the thunder, Ye Qiu endured unimaginable agony.
His body felt like it was breaking apart, every bone grinding to dust under the torment.
For the first time, he felt utterly powerless.
The thunder coursed through him, eroding his consciousness, drawing him closer to death.
Just as his awareness began to fade, a blurry figure appeared before him.
Tall and imposing, clad in white robes fluttering in the wind, it exuded an unmatched presence, facing away from him.
The figure spoke:
“A mere thunderbolt—what’s it worth?”
“A brave soul presses forward, fearing no hardship.”
“If the heavens block me, I’ll tear them apart. If the earth hinders me, I’ll crush it underfoot.”
Father!
Ye Qiu’s spirit jolted, his fading mind snapping awake. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing but thunder—no figure.
It had been a hallucination.
In his subconscious, his fixation on Ye Wushuang ran deep.
“I haven’t found Father, haven’t killed those enemies, haven’t married Sister Lin… I can’t die yet!”
*Ahhh—*
Roaring to the sky, he frantically activated the Nine-Turn Dragon Art, fists clenched, pounding the thunder with reckless abandon.
Time blurred—how long, he didn’t know. Finally, the thunder faded.
The world returned to stillness.
Ye Qiu stood charred black, indistinguishable from coal, motionless.
“He held it off!”
“Incredible!”
“Wait—something’s off with his aura…” Zhang Jiuling’s face shifted.
*Thud!*
Ye Qiu’s body toppled straight to the ground, unmoving.
“Did… did he die?”
Tang Fei’s voice quivered.
“The Heavenly Dao can’t be defied by human strength. Extending life defies its will,” Zhang Jiuling sighed.
Bai Bing stood dazed, staring at Ye Qiu’s fallen form. Her legs wouldn’t move—only silent tears fell.
*Snap!*
Suddenly, his coal-black body twitched.
Then, Ye Qiu climbed up. Though scorched, his eyes shone with startling clarity.
“He’s not dead!”
“He withstood it!”
“He’s alive!”
Tang Lao danced like a youth, shouting in excitement.
Bai Bing couldn’t hold back, throwing herself into Ye Qiu’s arms, sobbing. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine—*pfft*—”
He spat out a mouthful of blood mid-sentence.
She wept harder. “You call this fine? Look at you! It’s my fault—I’m sorry, Ye Qiu. I shouldn’t have asked you to save Grandfather…”
He smiled weakly. “Bing-jie, I’m a doctor. Healing’s my duty—don’t blame yourself. Step back, though—the treatment’s not done.”
Not done?
Her face paled. “Will there be more thunder?”
She’d decided—if more came, she’d stop him.
She didn’t want her grandfather to die, but if saving him cost Ye Qiu’s life, she’d rather let him go.
“Relax, the dangerous part’s over. What’s left is easy,” Ye Qiu said with a grin. “Bing-jie, back up a bit. General Bai will wake soon.”
“You’re not lying, right?” She eyed him skeptically.
“Why would I lie about this? Trust me—no danger,” he assured.
“Be careful, then.”
She retreated to her spot.
“Ye Qiu, why not rest a bit?” Tang Lao called.
“No need.” Ye Qiu was exhausted, on the verge of collapse, but he held on.
He had to succeed, or General Bai remained at risk.
The old man sat on the bed like a僵尸, eyes shut.
Ye Qiu removed the golden needles from his body, then took three more, piercing the Baihui, Tongtian, and Chengguang acupoints on his head.
With a flick of his finger against the needles’ ends—
“Buzz!”
The needles vibrated rapidly.
General Bai’s body trembled in sync, matching their frequency.
Time ticked by…
Ten minutes later—
*Snap!*
Ye Qiu snapped his fingers. Instantly, General Bai and the needles stilled.
Then, with two fingers as a sword, Ye Qiu traced a talisman over the old man’s brow, chanting under his breath.
Finished, he strode to the rooster impaled by the peachwood sword, gripped the hilt, and yanked it free.
Incredibly, the rooster didn’t die—it crowed loudly: “Cock-a-doodle-doo…”
At that exact moment, General Bai’s eyes snapped open on the bed.
