Volume 1, Chapter 61: As You Wish

"I... What is this...?"

The butcher stared blankly at his own hands—hands stained with blood and grease, now trembling slightly.

The lucidity in his eyes grew stronger, and memories rushed back like a rising tide. He recalled his own hideous, madness-driven behavior, and the frantic frenzy with which he had wielded the butcher's knife against his wife and child.

"Wah—"

Behind him, the child who had been tightly held by the woman finally broke free, stumbling forward to throw himself at him.

"Daddy! You're better! You recognize me!"

The woman also collapsed to her knees, weeping tears of joy. Facing Ye Xuan's direction, she kowtowed with all her might, her forehead colliding with the cold bluestone pavement with a dull thud.

"Divine Doctor! Thank you, Divine Doctor, for saving my life! You are the second-parent to my family!"

The butcher gave a sharp start, abruptly turning around to look at the young man in simple green robes before him—the benefactor who had dragged him back from the endless abyss. Standing seven feet tall as a fierce, iron-willed man, his knees suddenly softened, and he sank straight to the ground.

"Benefactor!"

His voice was hoarse, filled with remorse and gratitude. "Zhang Kui has no way to repay this. From now on, this life of mine is yours!"

"May I ask your esteemed name, Benefactor?!"

Ye Xuan's expression remained calm, as if everything before him had nothing to do with him.

He didn't even look at the kneeling butcher and his family, merely saying indifferently, "Ye Qianyuan."

With that, he turned around and walked back toward his stall.

Seeing this, the leader of the guards stepped forward quickly, his posture lowered to the utmost, his tone filled with reverence. "Mr. Ye, with medical skills as miraculous as yours, if this is reported to the Prince's Mansion, you will undoubtedly receive a generous reward!"

He was trying to curry favor, and also serving as a reminder.

Ye Xuan's steps paused slightly without turning his head.

"I have my own rules for treating illnesses."

His voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.

"Today's matters end here."

A chill stirred in the guard leader's heart. Daring not to say more, he bowed deeply once again, watching respectfully as Ye Xuan returned behind the modest stall, sat down anew, and closed his eyes to rest, seemingly transforming back into an obscure jianghu wandering physician.

The noisy crowd gradually dispersed, though everyone's face still bore lingering shock.

They knew that from this day forth, the name "Ye Qianyuan" was destined to stir ripples throughout the Northern Garrison City.

The butcher, taking his wife and child, kowtowed heavily three more times toward Ye Xuan's stall before leaving, supported by one another amidst the complex gazes of the onlookers.

Once the crowd had scattered completely, Su Qingxue stepped out from a corner. Her cool, autumn-water-like eyes shimmered with a brilliant array of shifting colors.

Walking up to Ye Xuan, she softly murmured, "With a single stroke of the needle today, Young Master truly shocked the Northern City. It seems the target this maiden was previously looking for will no longer be needed."

Ye Xuan didn't even raise an eyelid, his voice indifferent.

"This is merely the appetizer."

"A mad butcher is too light in weight; he cannot yet catch the eye of the Prince's Mansion."

Su Qingxue understood instantly, convinced and full of admiration.

Indeed. Curing a commoner would at most become a fine tale whispered among the alleys, attracting a few insignificant followers.

Yet to truly great figures like the Prince of Northern Garrison, such events were nothing more than worldly gossip, heard and instantly forgotten.

Ye Xuan's goal from the very beginning was never the gratitude of these commoners.

What he wanted was to make those high and mighty people feel a piercing pain as well, to awaken within them an eager desire to survive, compelling them to seek him out of their own accord!

Just as Ye Xuan had said, the good show had only just begun.

***

The news that the "Divine Doctor cured the butcher's madness" spread like wildfire within half a day, sweeping through the entire South City market district and even beginning to spill over into other districts.

The effect was instantaneous.

The modest stall, which had been devoid of visitors all afternoon, was by the following morning surrounded by a massive crowd, packed three layers deep.

"Divine Doctor! I beg you, save my child! He has had a persistent high fever and hasn't eaten for three days!" A ragged woman knelt on the ground, kowtowing frantically.

"Divine Doctor Ye! This leg of mine is an old injury, I beg you to take a look, any amount of money is fine!" An amputated mercenary was supported by others, his eyes full of hope.

"My father... my father won't stop coughing up blood, and the doctors in the city all say there's no hope, please show mercy, Divine Doctor!"

Countless anxious, painful, and hopeful faces tightly encircled the small stall.

Yet, facing this tsunami of pleas, Ye Xuan behind the stall kept his eyes tightly shut, sitting motionless as a mountain.

He resembled a heartless stone sculpture.

Until an old man, carried on his son's back, squeezed through to the front. The old man was breathing feebly, his face the color of gold paper, clearly on the verge of exhaustion.

"Divine Doctor! Can my father... can my father still be saved?" The grown man broke out in a sweat, his voice trembling.

Ye Xuan finally opened his eyes.

His gaze swept over the old man and passed him by, calmly uttering four words.

"His lifespan is exhausted."

The implication was clear: such was the mandate of heaven, and even immortals could not save him.

The man was struck as if by lightning, dropping heavily to his knees and weeping aloud.

Ye Xuan's gaze swept across the entire gathering, his voice quiet yet carrying an unquestionable chill.

"I shall say this once more."

"Here, I only treat terminal illnesses."

"What constitutes a terminal illness?"

"—It is when every doctor in the city is at their wits' end, when princes and nobles have exhausted all strategies, and the person can only wait to die."

"Ordinary colds, leg injuries, and those whose natural lifespans have run out will categorically not be treated."

"These are my rules."

As his words fell, an uproar erupted through the crowd!

"What? You won't treat them?"

"My mother is about to pass away, doesn't that count as a terminal illness?"

"Divine Doctor, you cannot stand by and refuse to help! We will pay, won't paying money do?"

The emotions of the crowd instantly shifted from initial hope to deep disappointment and incomprehension.

Especially the family members of those patients whom Ye Xuan had judged to be "non-terminal," who felt as though they had plunged into an icy abyss.

Hope was right before their eyes, within arm's reach, only to be blocked outside by a ruthless threshold!

"Divine Doctor! I beg of you! Please show mercy!"

"I will be your beast of burden! I beg you to save my daughter!"

Cries and pleas rose and fell in waves.

Dozens, hundreds of people knelt down in unison, the scene infinitely sorrowful.

They could not comprehend why someone possessing such miraculous skills could have a heart so hard; why, when he was capable of saving them, was he unwilling to act?

Yet, regardless of how they pleaded, Ye Xuan remained entirely unmoved, his expression cold as he closed his eyes once more.

He was no saint.

His time and energy, and the value of his identity as a "Divine Doctor," had to be reserved for the most critical moments.

Bestowing universal benevolence and saving the hundred commoners?

That was something mediocre doctors would do.

What he intended to do was targeted explosions—using one fatal miracle after another to forge the name Ye Qianyuan into a priceless, golden signboard!

A stepping stone sturdy enough to smash open the gates of the Prince's Mansion!

Just as the lamentations shook the heavens and the atmosphere reached an extreme point of oppression,

a cynical, discordant voice abruptly rang out from within the crowd.

"Hmph, beautifully spoken! Calling it a treatment for terminal illnesses is nothing more than a facade!"

The voice was not loud, yet it fell like a drop of cold water into boiling oil, instantly quieting the seething scene for a moment.

Following the sound, the crowd saw a rat-faced, thin man dressed in silk robes, standing with his arms crossed and curling his lips in disdain.

"Don't all of you be fooled by him!"

The thin man raised his volume, pointing directly at Ye Xuan with absolute conviction.

"What damned rules! In my opinion, he doesn't have the ability at all!"

"Curing that butcher was probably just a blind cat running into a dead mouse—pure blind luck!"

"Think about it: if he truly possessed such great skill, why would he dare not treat these ordinary ailments? Because he's afraid of exposing his facade!"

These words exploded like thunder in everyone's hearts.

That's right!

Why?

If his medical arts were truly god-like, wouldn't curing a simple cold be as easy as turning over one's hand? Why refuse?

It defied common sense!

The resentment in people's hearts—just ruthlessly rejected moments ago—instantly found a vent.

"Right! That makes sense! If he doesn't even dare cure a minor illness, how can he dare call himself a divine doctor?"

"I knew it! How could there be such a young divine doctor!"

"A fraud! He's definitely a fraud! He wants to use the butcher's incident to gain fame, and then swindle high-ranking officials and nobles!"

The mood of the crowd, incited by just a few sentences, plummeted rapidly.

Suspicion, anger, and the humiliation of being deceived quickly replaced their previous awe and anticipation.

The family members of the patients who had been kneeling and begging bitterly just moments before now stood up, glaring at Ye Xuan with scrutinizing and furious gazes.

"Kid! Can you actually treat illnesses or not? Give us a straight answer!"

"If you can't cure them, stop playing god here and delaying us from seeking medical help elsewhere!"

"Get out of Northern Garrison City! We don't welcome swindlers here!"

Seeing this, the rat-faced man's mouth curled into a smug, cold smile as he once again loudly incited the crowd:

"Everyone, he's feeling guilty! He doesn't dare speak! If he really has the ability, make him cure someone right on the spot for us to see! Cure someone who has truly been given a death sentence by all the doctors!"

"Right! Cure someone else!"

"Cure someone for us to see!"

The masses were stirred to a frenzy, their clamor rising to the heavens, as if they wanted to completely overturn the small stall.

Su Qingxue stood not far away, her delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed.

She saw it clearly: the thin man stirring up the rhythm was definitely not an ordinary commoner. The gleaming craftiness and calculation in his eyes clearly showed he was a saboteur sent by some faction.

The situation was beginning to spiral out of control.

Yet, right at the center of this roaring torrent of sound and questioning whirlpool,

Ye Xuan finally slowly opened his eyes for the third time.

On his face, there was no anger, no panic, not even the slightest ripple of emotion.

All that remained was a faint, icy smile of someone who saw right through everything.

The target he wanted had delivered himself to his door.

The stage he needed had already been set.

His gaze passed over the angry crowd, precisely landing on the rat-faced man, and he calmly spoke.

"As you wish."