Volume One, Chapter Forty-Four: Transcendent Healing Arts

Gao Han’s petite figure stood protectively in front, while Jiang Chen had already reached the operating table, where a young nurse was busy attending to the patient. Jiang Chen extended his hand and effortlessly immobilized her. “Don’t move, don’t be nervous. I’m not here to harm anyone—I’ve come to save a life.”

There was no time for further explanation. Looking at Gao Shang lying on the bed, Jiang Chen’s heart skipped a beat. Gao Shang’s chest had been pierced by a five-meter-long steel rod, and although the blood had already congealed, the numbers on the heart monitor had become a flat line.

Jiang Chen took a deep breath. The steel rod had been cut, but a considerable amount of rust remained embedded in Gao Shang’s body. Ordinarily, Jiang Chen would not have allowed ordinary people to witness his miraculous skills—those that could bring flesh and bone back to life—but he had no time or hands to spare; every second was a race against death.

He grasped Gao Shang’s pulse and infused his own vitality into the man’s body. The heart that had stopped began to beat violently; the straight line on the monitor flickered into motion. It was nothing short of magic. The nurse was so astonished she could not utter a word, and even wished she could assist Jiang Chen.

Such divine healing was unheard of in the hospital; had she not participated in this surgery, she could have gone her whole life without witnessing such a marvel.

Jiang Chen had never doubted his medical skill, but this time, he was truly anxious for Gao Shang. Life and death were matters he had learned to take lightly—not out of coldness, but so he could quickly adjust his emotions and avoid letting them cloud his judgment.

Indeed, after infusing his vitality, Jiang Chen circled Gao Shang’s wound with a single hand holding golden needles.

Meanwhile, the exhausted Gao Han could no longer resist the strong doctors outside. In that moment, Li Shengyuan rolled up his sleeves and entered the operating room, with Doctor Kong Sanpao rushing in at the front.

“Bold scoundrel! What are you doing?” Kong Sanpao barked, but Li Shengyuan immediately pulled him back.

Anyone with eyes could see Jiang Chen was saving a life, and the heart monitor had started to show waves again—meaning the patient wasn’t dead and could still be saved!

“This… This is absolutely impossible! How did this kid do it?” Li Shengyuan could hardly believe his eyes. After years of medical practice, his professional judgment told him Gao Shang was already dead.

Yet now he had returned to life, in a manner beyond scientific explanation.

And then came a scene even more astonishing.

Before their eyes, Jiang Chen’s golden needles slowly entered Gao Shang’s chest—not just one, but more than a dozen, moving in together as if guided by an invisible hand.

Everyone present was at least a graduate student. In all their years of surgery and medicine, they had never seen such a technique. Without any manual operation, the golden needles moved as if remote-controlled, sinking in unison.

Even more miraculous, with each millimeter the needles entered, the rust fragments in Gao Shang’s chest were forced out bit by bit, until the entire wound was covered in expelled iron filings.

The crowd had forgotten what they had come to do. No one stopped Jiang Chen; all were transfixed, watching a scene fit for a textbook. In Li Shengyuan’s mind, only two words echoed.

“A divine healer.”

An unrivaled miracle worker.

Jiang Chen was now wholly focused; Gao Shang’s vitality was draining too rapidly, and even his needlework began to falter.

Saving the living was routine for Jiang Chen, but reviving the dead demanded an effort beyond measure.

Sweat beaded on his forehead; the nurse hurried to wipe it away. Gritting his teeth, Jiang Chen withdrew all the needles and began to recall the various needle techniques his master had taught him.

His master once praised him as a rare prodigy, grasping medical arts instantly—unmatched by anyone. Yet as Jiang Chen gradually mastered everything, he fell into contemplation.

He asked his master, what should be done if one day he encountered someone he could not save?

The answer was not persistence, nor resignation to fate, but a simple truth: Medicine advances through constant innovation and integration.

In this moment, Jiang Chen’s mind cleared. A surge of spiritual energy erupted from the crown of his head.

His face relaxed, hands no longer pressed to Gao Shang’s pulse, and the heart monitor returned to zero.

Everything seemed to revert to its origin.

Li Shengyuan sighed. “So it’s impossible to defy fate after all?”

Gao Han, kneeling on the floor, collapsed backward, thankfully caught by someone and spared injury.

“It’s not his fault. He did all he could.”

“Yes, the dead can’t be—”

Realizing the family was present, one of the doctors stopped short.

Jiang Chen began anew, this time employing a technique of his own invention: combining formation arrays with acupuncture—the optimal solution he could conceive.

No theatrics; he placed a needle to seal Gao Shang’s life channel, then infused one formation into another.

“Qi Gathering Array!”

“Soul Binding Array!”

“Longevity Array!”

“Blood Renewal Array!”

Each array corresponded to respiration, essence and spirit, lifespan, and the blood Gao Shang had lost.

As the five needles descended, the heart monitor never returned to zero. All of his vitals stabilized, as though he had never been ill, and even the visible wounds continued to heal before their eyes.

“It worked!”

“A miracle healer! This is a true divine doctor! Compared to him, we’re nothing!”

“I’m convinced—I want to learn medicine from this master…”

The esteemed deputy directors’ faces flushed red. Originally, they had felt guilty for the failed surgery, knowing their own shortcomings contributed. But not only had the patient been rescued, the young miracle worker before them appeared scarcely out of his youth, making these old veterans feel utterly ashamed.

The moment Gao Shang recovered, Gao Han rushed forward. Seeing her brother safe, she collapsed weakly to the floor.

Jiang Chen leaned against the wall, and the nurses hurried to support him, for his face had turned pale and powerless, his limbs beginning to weaken.

Yet through this ordeal, he had not been left unguarded; his medical skill had reached an unparalleled peak. Previously, he and his master were equals—if his master could save someone, so could he; if his master could not, neither could he. Now, however, Jiang Chen could rescue those beyond his master’s ability.

His thoughts were myriad, but his strength was spent, and his vision blurred.

“Yike, with you here, I can rest easy.” Jiang Chen collapsed into a soft embrace.

Su Yike called out anxiously, “Jiang Chen?! Jiang Chen! Are you alright?”