In the latter half of autumn night, the moon had set, and the sun had not yet risen, leaving only a patch of dark blue sky. A series of violent coughs echoed through the rear residence of the Fan manor. The coughing persisted for a long time, disturbing the servants, who struggled awake from their dreams, and causing a flurry of panicked activity to stir in the garden.

Perhaps it was due to the weather, but not only Minister Fan had caught a cold, but also some of the servants. Those with runny noses had already been sent to the farm outside the capital, but the remaining people dared not be careless. They drank the prescriptions written by the eldest young master every day, and these prescriptions were indeed effective, preventing the cold from spreading. The reason why this bout of coughing caused such chaos in the Fan manor was that the coughing came from the eldest young master's room. He had been suffering from a strange illness for the past two days, coughing severely, yet refusing to let the imperial physicians from the palace prescribe medicine. He stubbornly trusted his own methods, but after several days, the coughing had not subsided. The servants of the Fan manor couldn't help but worry, fearing that something might happen to this eldest young master who treated them so well.

The head maid, Sisi, with a red ribbon tied around her forehead, smoothed her slightly disheveled hair and stood somewhat irritably in the small kitchen. She sniffed the strong medicinal scent wafting from within, while urging the rough-working maids to hurry up. She had been sent from the old matriarch's side in Danzhou to the capital, and her future position and status were clear. Therefore, she carried some weight in the Fan manor. The sleepy-eyed young maids knew that the eldest young master's illness was troublesome, and seeing her anger, they bit their lower lips, not daring to respond.

After a short while, Sisi still couldn't relax. She moved a small stool and sat in front of the medicine stove, gently fanning it with a small hand fan. Her eyes were fixed on the steaming mouth of the stove, gradually becoming red from the smoke, but she dared not be careless. Brewing medicine required great attention to heat control, and the medicine being brewed was for the eldest young master to take. She couldn't be at ease unless she watched over it herself.

In the bedroom, Lin Wan'er, draped in a cotton-lined, embroidered home robe, tenderly rubbed Fan Xian's chest, asking cautiously, "Perhaps...should we really try the imperial physician's prescription?"

Fan Xian, his face flushed from coughing, waved his hand, forcing a smile, and said, "There's no need to be so precious. Besides, I know my own body. I won't die. I can just prescribe some medicine for myself."

Lin Wan'er knew that her husband's medical skills were remarkable; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to cure her fifteen-year-long lung ailment. However, hearing him cough so severely these past few days, she couldn't help but worry. She bit her lip and said, "Even Eunuch Hong can't figure out the origin of this illness...but you say you know. Look..." She rolled her eyes and said, "Should I write a letter to ask Mr. Fei?"

Fan Xian coughed twice more, knowing that his wife was ultimately worried. He sighed and said, "You know my teacher. He spends more than half the year wandering around. Even if he wanted to rush back, who knows when that would be?" He continued with a smile, "Perhaps three or four months. By then, I'd probably be dead...and you..." He gently tapped Wan'er's pretty, straight nose, joking, "You'd become the prettiest young widow in the capital."

Lin Wan'er spat on the ground several times, angrily saying, "What time is it? And you're still saying such nonsense!"

Fan Xian smiled. He wasn't as nervous as the others in the family because he knew exactly what was happening inside his body. The medicine being brewed was only to help calm his mind, clear his spirit, soothe his lungs, and slightly regulate his meridians to stabilize his condition. As for the real root of the illness, he had to deal with it himself. While speaking, he comforted Wan'er with a few words, but carefully placed his right hand under the covers.

His right hand would occasionally tremble for a moment. It had started outside the Kyoto Prefecture and had not improved to this day.

There was a knock on the door. Sisi carefully carried the medicinal soup into the room. The head maid Siqi, who slept in the front厢, had already gotten up, lit the oil lamp on the table, and moved a tall small table in front of the young master and young mistress's bed. She took the medicine bowl, took out a spoon, and gently stirred the bowl to cool the soup. When the temperature was about right, she fed Fan Xian a small sip.

Fan Xian drank it, feeling a slight bitterness. He subconsciously licked his tongue, but Sisi had already very quickly stuffed a sugar pill into his mouth, immediately dispelling the bitterness. He couldn't help but laugh. "Am I such a delicate, that need so served?"

Sisi smiled and said, "Young master, you've always been most afraid of taking medicine since you were a child." Fan Xian thought, this world's medicinal soup isn't coated in sugar, so of course, I'll frown when I drink it.

Siqi pulled out a silk scarf from her sleeve and helped Fan Xian wipe the corners of his lips, saying seriously, "Young master, you are a patient now. You can't be brave."

Seeing the two head maids in such a manner, even Wan'er couldn't bear to watch. She scolded with a smile, "Don't spoil him too much." Even as she said this, her little hand continued to stroke Fan Xian's back, trying to make him more comfortable.

Although Fan Xian also enjoyed this life of a young master, thinking that it would be nice if he could be so comfortable when he was sick, he finally couldn't help but shake his head. He reached out, took the medicine bowl, drank it all in one heroic gulp, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and said with a smile, "I'm a part-time doctor, not a child."

The two head maids under the bed exchanged smiles and said nothing. Seeing that it was already very late, Fan Xian knew that his previous bout of coughing had made the maids in the manor busy, and he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He instructed, "After drinking the medicine, I shouldn't cough anymore. You can go to sleep...let those night watch girls sleep too. It's cold in the autumn night. What if they catch a cold again?"

"It's almost dawn. What's the point of sleeping?"

"It's always good to sleep a little longer." Fan Xian said sternly.

Knowing that this young master was considerate of the servants and that beneath his gentle exterior was a heart that always meant what it said, Sisi and Siqi dared not argue further. They agreed in unison and went out to arrange matters.

Fan Xian got out of bed and poured a cup of tea to rinse his mouth. Wan'er couldn't help but say, "Drinking cold tea while sick is bad for your body." Fan Xian smiled, sat back on the bed, and said, "I've already said that this illness is different from ordinary illnesses." The couple spoke for a while longer. Wan'er saw that he was no longer coughing and felt slightly relieved. She gradually became sleepy, but seeing that he wasn't going to sleep, she forced herself to stay awake. Finally, Fan Xian couldn't bear to watch any longer. He quietly reached out and rubbed her shoulders, gently stroking the calming acupoints on her head, which allowed her to fall into a deep sleep.

Looking at his sleeping wife, Fan Xian knew that she had been worried about him these past few days, and her mind and body were exhausted. He couldn't help but shake his head. His illness couldn't be cured just by taking good care of him; it was different from his father's. Minister Fan's cold was showing signs of improvement under his skillful hands and should be completely cured in about two days. It's only that his father was older, and his body wasn't as good as a young man's, so recovery was always slower.

He gently waved his hand and extinguished the oil lamp on the table five feet away, plunging the entire bedroom into darkness. However, he kept his bright eyes open, unable to fall asleep because he had been meditating for too long these past few days and couldn't get sleepy easily.

He gently licked the medicinal residue between his teeth, savoring the herbs he had personally selected. He seemed to be able to feel the effective components of the herbs entering his lungs, helping to relieve the discomfort there. He was somewhat smug. He reached out and pulled the quilt over his wife, then reached into the hidden compartment under his pillow, taking out a small medicine pouch. Inside were several perfectly round, somewhat rough-to-the-touch pills.

Although the room was dark, Fan Xian knew that these pills were red because, since he was a child, Fei Jie had ordered him to carry these pills with him in case the nameless martial arts technique he was practicing caused problems. If that domineering, violent *zhenqi* truly broke through his meridians, this pill would be his last life-saving elixir.

When Fan Xian was very young, when he was still living in Danzhou, Fei Jie had discovered this crucial problem. The nameless martial arts technique that Wu Zhu had left for Fan Xian, or rather, that his mother had left for Fan Xian, would indeed cultivate extremely domineering and powerful *zhenqi* if practiced all the way through. The problem was that this *zhenqi* seemed too domineering and violent. If ordinary people practiced it, they would probably be burst and pierced by the *zhenqi* in their bodies before they had practiced for long. Once their meridians were broken, the person would naturally become useless.

However, Fan Xian had a strange characteristic compared to the people in this world: his meridians seemed to be much thicker and wider than those of other people. It was precisely because of this that he had begun to secretly practice the nameless domineering martial arts technique since he was an infant. By the time he was four years old, the *zhenqi* in his body had become abundant to a shocking degree, but he had not exploded and died.

However, Fei Jie had once said that as the *zhenqi* in his body accumulated more and more, becoming more and more powerful, there would eventually come a day when the already formed meridian channels would not be able to accommodate it, and Fan Xian would suffer greatly!

However, more than ten years had passed, and Fan Xian had not felt this danger. Although the *zhenqi* in his body was domineering, it remained under his control. Especially after he finished practicing the first volume of the nameless domineering martial arts technique at the age of twelve, the *zhenqi* that had been running like a storm in his body suddenly subsided, becoming as tame as could be, and did not cause him any impact.

Therefore, he had gradually relaxed his vigilance and had even almost forgotten about this matter. He no longer carried the pills with him at all times but left them at home. Except for the last time he went on a mission to Northern Qi, when he was worried about the uncertain road ahead and brought one, but he had not used it.

Trouble always comes when people are least prepared.

After experiencing the seemingly peaceful but actually dangerous journey to Northern Qi, Fan Xian's *zhenqi* cultivation and skills finally merged into one. He had broken through the ninth-rank barrier and was beginning to move towards the pinnacle of martial arts in the human world. The domineering *zhenqi* in his body had finally reached completion. He could even compete head-on with Lang Tao, the first disciple of Ku He. Unexpectedly, after elegantly defeating Xie Bi'an, one of the Eight Great Grandmasters, outside the Kyoto Prefecture, the *zhenqi* in his body began to become restless.

Starting from the snowy mountain behind his waist and going up along the meridians, two connected *zhenqi* channels were like two circles, exchanging with each other up and down in his body. Now, this *zhenqi* seemed to have sensed some signs from the body's owner and began to become manic, no longer willing to stay obediently in the meridians but constantly stretching, probing, and stabbing in all directions.

Fan Xian's hands were where he had the most perfect control over *zhenqi*, but now they had become the gateway through which the *zhenqi* in his body forcibly overflowed. Now, his right hand would tremble from time to time, which was the result of his body's functions and the disobedient *zhenqi* in his meridians both trying to control it.

The situation wasn't very serious, at least it was still within his control. After these days of meditation and sitting quietly, he had forcibly suppressed the restless domineering *zhenqi* in his body with his own mind, but the mutual reverse impact had damaged his lungs, which had led to the constant coughing. However, if he allowed this situation to develop, there would come a day when he would not be able to control the domineering and violent *zhenqi* in his body.

Fan Xian had also tried to practice the second half of the nameless martial arts technique, but so far, there had been no progress. Sometimes, when he coughed severely, he even felt a little resentful towards that elusive Uncle Wu Zhu - if you're going to give me a Star-Absorbing Force, you should at least give me a solution, right?

He gently pinched the medicine pouch in his hand and frowned. He had analyzed the pills his teacher had left him some days ago. Like a tiger against a lion, his teacher had used extremely domineering medicine to help him cope with the domineering *zhenqi* in his body. He really didn't have the confidence that this medicine would bring any good consequences. It contained a large amount of Mayflower, which was...a genuine *San Gong* medicine!

Was he willing to have the *zhenqi* that he had worked so hard to cultivate for more than ten years dissipated in one morning? Even if it didn't dissipate his *gongli*, he was afraid that most of the *zhenqi* in his body would be consumed!

But if he didn't eat it...was he going to watch that *zhenqi* explode him into a giant blood-filled balloon in a few months or years? Even if it didn't have such a terrifying effect...his right hand was constantly shaking, which wasn't very attractive. Was he, at such a young age, going to put on a Parkinson's patient act?

To eat or not to eat, that is the question.

In the distance, a few roosters crowed, waking the sun and banishing the darkness, but people were still sound asleep. Fan Xian raised his head and realized that he had been sitting by the bed for half an hour. He couldn't help but smile self-deprecatingly. The person who feared death the most would actually show such cowardice and hesitation when faced with such a dilemma.

Perhaps, this was also an opportunity, he consoled himself.

"Not relying on the splendid pools whose forms still decay, one should draw from the Heavenly Springs to nourish oneself..." He slowly recited the incantation, sitting by the bed, entering a state of meditation, carefully subduing the errant *zhenqi* in his body into the meridians, and then slowly withdrawing it to the snowy mountain behind his waist, allowing them to shine brightly there, illuminating and melting the snowy mountain.

Suddenly, his heart stirred. Fan Xian opened his eyes, casually put on a coat, pushed the door open, and walked to the most secluded corner of the garden, the small martial arts training ground where he had tested poison needles. Without needing to search, he saw the strange uncle with a black cloth covering his face beside the rockery.

He couldn't help but shake his head and sigh, complaining, "So, you still know to come back."