Super Doctor - Chapter 90

“Xu Ze… Isn’t that Xu Ze? What’s he doing on the court?” The spectators in the stands murmured in surprise.

Some girls giggled excitedly: “Maybe he’s helping the Surveying Department since they’re short on players…”

“Oh, come on, you little fangirl! This is Surveying vs. Journalism—not an inter-school tournament. How could Xu Ze just step in?” Another girl teased.

“Hmph! You’re the fangirl! Don’t think I haven’t seen you staring at him too!”

Amid the hushed whispers his presence had sparked, Xu Ze remained unfazed. Under the bewildered gazes of both teams, he approached Hu Xuezhao, who looked just as stunned, and smiled.

“Can I take a look at your hand?”

Hu Xuezhao barely knew Xu Ze—they’d only exchanged a few greetings recently. Seeing the medical department’s rising star suddenly appear on the court left him speechless. “Xu Ze… What did you say?”

“Your hand. May I see it?” Xu Ze repeated gently.

“Uh… Oh, sure!” Still confused, Hu Xuezhao hesitated but didn’t refuse. He lifted his limp right hand with a bitter smile and held it out.

Xu Ze took his hand, carefully examining the elbow joint. He noted the telltale signs: elastic fixation, a hollow sensation at the back of the joint, and displaced bone landmarks.

Definitely a posterior elbow dislocation—tricky to reset. No wonder the school medic had failed.

To be thorough, Xu Ze activated his X-ray vision. A faint glimmer passed through his glasses, revealing Hu Xuezhao’s joint in perfect detail.

“No fractures… Good.” He nodded in satisfaction.

Hu Xuezhao, meanwhile, grew increasingly baffled. What’s he doing? Nodding like he’s studying my injury? Wait—is he using me as a live demo?!

The thought almost made him laugh in frustration. Who does that in the middle of a game?

His teammates scowled, equally annoyed. This guy’s got no tact. Thousands of people are watching—this isn’t a circus! If Xu Ze weren’t the medical team’s golden boy (and if their departments weren’t on good terms), they might’ve dragged him off the court by now.

Up in the stands, Sun Linfei and Luozi gaped in disbelief. What is this idiot doing? Poking around when the guy’s already upset?

But not everyone misunderstood.

A familiar voice piped up: “Wait—is Xu Ze going to fix the captain’s hand?”

“Fangirl mode activated again, huh? Even if he resets it, the school medic said it’d take two weeks to heal!” her friend retorted.

“But Xu Ze works at a clinic! And he knows hypnosis—what if he can heal it?”

The friend faltered. “Well… I guess that’s possible.”

Their debate spread, stirring whispers across the stadium. Could Xu Ze really pull this off?

The referee, fed up, blew his whistle. “If you don’t return to the court now, I’m calling a forfeit!”

The Surveying team exchanged glances, ready to comply—until Xu Ze turned and locked eyes with the ref.

“Give them two more minutes.”

“I’ve given them enough time!” the ref snapped, shaking his watch.

Xu Ze’s gaze turned icy, his voice firm. “I said two more minutes.”

The ref flinched, an inexplicable pressure washing over him. “F-Fine. Two minutes.”

With a satisfied nod, Xu Ze turned back to Hu Xuezhao. “Lift your arm. We’re starting now.”

“Starting what?” Hu Xuezhao blinked.

Without explaining, Xu Ze gripped his dislocated elbow. In one swift motion, he rotated the forearm outward, jerked the wrist, bent the joint, and pushed—

Click.

“Try raising your hand,” Xu Ze said calmly.

Hu Xuezhao obeyed—and the crowd erupted.

“It’s fixed?! Just like that?!”

Gasps filled the stands. Sun Linfei, Luozi, and thousands of others stared in shock as Hu Xuezhao’s limp arm moved freely again.

The Journalism team’s faces darkened. Zhang Tianyu shot Xu Ze a venomous glare.

Hu Xuezhao stared at his hand, disbelief melting into joy. “It’s… healed?”

Xu Ze shook his head. “Not quite.” To the school medic, he said, “I need acupuncture needles.”

The medic, awed by Xu Ze’s skill, scrambled to hand him a box. “H-Here! And alcohol swabs!”

Selecting three needles, Xu Ze sterilized them and targeted Hu Xuezhao’s pressure points—Quchi, Shousanli, Waiguan—inserting the needles with precision.

As he manipulated them, a tingling warmth spread through Hu Xuezhao’s elbow, dissolving the last traces of pain.

After two rounds, Xu Ze removed the needles. “Done. You’re good to go.”

Hu Xuezhao flexed his arm—no stiffness, no ache. “Seriously?!”

“Seriously. You’ve got two minutes left—make them count.”

With a deep breath, Hu Xuezhao nodded. “Thank you.”

Xu Ze smiled. “Anytime.”

“Ball!” Hu Xuezhao caught a pass, dribbled down the court, and leaped—SLAM! The crowd roared as he scored.

“Let’s go!” he shouted, rallying his team.

“LET’S GO!” The cheer thundered back, from the players, the stands—everywhere.