Qian Family Main House
After the three National Medical Sages departed, Governor Han and the others also took their leave.
Soon, only family remained in the room.
Qian Jinglan grumbled, “Qiu’er, your earlier move was far too reckless—facing Korea’s Medical Sage alone and challenging all their renowned doctors. If you lose, the consequences would be unthinkable.”
Ye Qiu was about to respond when Elder Qian cut in.
“Jinglan, no need to fret.”
“Though this is my first meeting with Ye Qiu, I can tell he’s not impulsive.”
“If he dares to take this on, he must be confident.”
“Besides, youth without a bit of boldness is wasted. At his age, it’s the time to shine.”
Qian Jinglan shot Elder Qian a look. “Qiu’er’s temperament is a bit like yours. You did something like this when you were young.”
“Hahaha, he’s my grandson, after all!” Elder Qian laughed heartily.
Ye Qiu perked up—his grandfather had a story? “Mom, what did Grandpa do back then?”
“When your grandfather was forty, global tensions spiked. Issues like education, human rights, and civil liberties led countless nations to pressure our country. As an advisor, your grandfather went to the United Nations.”
“At the assembly, he single-handedly debated a crowd of delegates, outwitting dozens of nations’ representatives. Some were left speechless; two even fainted from his sharp tongue.”
“That moment boosted Hua Country’s prestige. It’s ranked among the top ten events in our diplomatic history.”
“His speech was later included in the Foreign Affairs Academy’s textbooks. To this day, every diplomacy student studies it.”
Badass!
Ye Qiu’s respect surged.
“Old tales—what’s the point of bringing them up?” Elder Qian got out of bed, grabbed his cane, and said to Ye Qiu, “Come with me.”
Under everyone’s gaze, he led Ye Qiu to the study, leaning on his cane.
Stepping inside, Ye Qiu was floored.
This wasn’t a study—it was a library.
Rows of packed shelves stretched out, holding tens of thousands of books.
Elder Qian walked ahead, saying, “I’ve no great hobbies in life, just reading. Over decades, I’ve collected quite a few books.”
“I’ve read most of what’s here.”
“Whenever you’ve got time, feel free to come read.”
He led Ye Qiu to the innermost shelf and stopped.
Ye Qiu looked up. Instead of books, this shelf held sandalwood boxes—some quite large.
“What’s inside?” Ye Qiu asked.
“Books,” Elder Qian smiled. “These are rare originals, so I boxed them to keep out moisture.”
Ye Qiu pressed, “Grandpa, why’d you bring me here?”
“You’re about to face Korea’s Medical Sage. I don’t know medicine, but I want to help a little.”
“Plus, it’s our first meeting, and you saved my life—I’ve got to show some gratitude.”
He tapped the shelf with his cane. “The third row’s boxes hold medical texts. They might help. Take a look!”
Curious, Ye Qiu opened the first box. Inside was a set of medical books.
The cover bore two characters: Pulse Classic!
Flipping it open, his heart skipped. It was an original.
The Pulse Classic, compiled by Wang Shuhe of the Western Jin Dynasty, was China’s earliest surviving treatise on pulse diagnosis.
Its influence was immense.
In the Tang Dynasty, it became required study at the Imperial Medical Bureau. It later shaped Tibetan medicine, spreading to Japan, Persia, the Middle East, and beyond, profoundly impacting Western pulse studies.
Clearly, this was a priceless singleton.
Ye Qiu set it down, closed the box, and opened the next.
Another set: Emergency Prescriptions from Behind the Elbow!
Authored by Ge Hong of the Eastern Jin.
Not an original, but a Ming Dynasty print—still valuable. It detailed simple remedies for common ailments: oral prescriptions, massage, acupuncture, bone-setting.
Ye Qiu skimmed it and returned it.
The third box held a Song Dynasty Essential Prescriptions Worth a Thousand Gold by Sun Simiao.
Ye Qiu wasn’t interested—didn’t even lift it out.
He opened more boxes, finding various medical texts, but barely glanced at them.
“Not interested?” Elder Qian asked.
Ye Qiu answered honestly, “They’re not much use to me.”
Elder Qian’s face fell. He’d hoped they’d help, not be useless.
“Sorry, Ye Qiu. I wanted to assist, but it seems I misjudged…”
Ye Qiu quickly said, “Grandpa, your thought alone is a huge encouragement.”
“Good kid.”
Elder Qian turned to leave.
Ye Qiu followed, but two steps in, something caught his eye—a book in the shelf’s corner.
It stood out, unboxed, tossed aside, coated in thick dust.
Ye Qiu paused, pointing. “Grandpa, what’s that book?”
Elder Qian glanced over. “Supposedly a medical text—gifted to me. Odd thing, though—no words inside.”
A wordless book?
Ye Qiu blinked, bent down, and picked it up. Wiping off the dust, he opened it—sure enough, blank.
But he noticed the pages—cowhide paper, clearly exceptional.
How could it be empty?
He frowned.
“I studied it for a while, got nowhere. Take it if you’re curious!”
Elder Qian added, as if recalling something, “Ye Qiu, I’ll step out. Some matters need handling.”
“Alright.”
After Elder Qian left, Ye Qiu flipped the wordless book, searching for clues.
Ten minutes passed—nothing.
Even with his Heavenly Eye, no anomalies.
“Strange.” Ready to shelve it, the cowhide paper sliced his finger. Blood splashed onto the book.
Suddenly, a change erupted.
Four bold characters flashed onto the cover—
Nine Needles Against Heaven!
