The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 149

True to their origin as system-exchanged detoxifying elixirs, the pills took effect almost instantly—dissolving the moment they touched the tongue. Strangely, as soon as Ye Zhennan swallowed them, his pale face relaxed, and he fell into a deep sleep. Without waiting, Jiang Fei picked up the silver needles and began applying the Divine Needle Technique to expel the poison.

If Jiang Fei had relied solely on his acupuncture skills, the process would have been grueling—likely futile, no matter how hard he tried.

But with the Niuhuang Xuejie Dan and Yulong Suhe San now active in Ye Zhennan’s system, the potent antidotes immediately began neutralizing the toxins that had already spread to his organs.

Jiang Fei’s task was simply to guide the concentrated poison out of the old man’s body—a straightforward job for someone with Level 7 Medical Skills. With these two miracle antidotes, even a moderately skilled TCM doctor could have managed it.

Ye Zhennan lay on his back, hospital gown open, as Jiang Fei swiftly inserted needles into acupoints like Yongquan and Jiuwei. Soon, a faint, unpleasant odor permeated the room—the poison gradually seeping out of Ye Zhennan’s pores.

Since the toxins had lingered for two days and were now neutralized by the antidotes, the gaseous residue posed no harm, even if inhaled. Jiang Fei didn’t bother telling anyone to cover their noses.

The entire procedure took less than six minutes. By the time Jiang Fei withdrew the needles, Ye Zhennan’s forehead glistened with sweat, as if he’d just left a sauna—still unconscious but visibly recovering.

As Jiang Fei washed his hands (a signature post-treatment ritual), Ye Yuanyuan anxiously asked, “Is the poison gone?”

“Mostly,” Jiang Fei nodded. “But the pills are still working. He’ll need about an hour to wake up.”

Relief washed over the room. No one dared question Jiang Fei’s verdict—his reputation as a miracle doctor was undisputed. Even the stubborn old guard of the TCM Association had bowed to his skills. The entire sanatorium knew him as the genius who’d cured Ye Zhennan’s paralyzed legs.

And indeed, Ye Zhennan’s complexion had improved dramatically, the sickly pallor fading.

“Unbelievable… We couldn’t even detect the poison, yet he eliminated it with a few needles. Is TCM really this powerful?” muttered one Western medicine specialist.

“That was no ordinary toxin. It shouldn’t have been so easy—those pills must’ve done most of the work,” another analyzed.

“Whether it was the needles or the pills, it’s all Dr. Jiang’s doing. We’re lightyears behind,” a third admitted, then mused, “But if TCM is this effective, why has it nearly vanished from mainstream medicine?”

“Think about it. For the average person, Western medicine dominates. But the elite—those with access to the TCM Association—still rely on top-tier TCM doctors. The problem? Mediocre TCM practitioners get weeded out. Only the exceptional survive.”

Their chatter grated on Ye Yuanyuan. After witnessing Jiang Fei’s prowess, she had zero patience for these “useless bureaucrats in lab coats.”

Without Jiang Fei, her grandfather would be dead.

She promptly kicked them all out and ordered Uncle Hu, Ye Zhennan’s personal guard, to launch a full investigation. The mole within the sanatorium had to be rooted out.

Simultaneously, she called her parents. This wasn’t a fight she could wage alone—the Ye family’s retaliation would require her father’s generation’s influence.

In less than thirty minutes since the poisoning was confirmed, the storm had begun. Soon, Jin City’s power players would descend upon the sanatorium—the epicenter of the coming upheaval.

Jiang Fei waited an hour until Ye Zhennan woke, then checked his pulse to confirm the poison was fully purged.

“Be more careful next time, Old Master. If this happens again, I won’t be able to save you,” Jiang Fei said wryly—his heart still aching over the 1,000 gold coins spent.

Truthfully, without another Niuhuang Xuejie Dan and Yulong Suhe San (and with only 800+ coins left), a repeat scenario would be hopeless.

Ye Zhennan, now seated (he hated lying in bed), smiled—a smile that carried bone-chilling lethality. “Don’t worry. Getting poisoned once is enough. If I’m stupid enough to let it happen again, I don’t deserve saving.”

The unspoken threat to the perpetrators hung thick in the air.

Jiang Fei took his leave. With high-profile figures about to swarm the sanatorium, he wanted no part of the political circus.

…

On the way out, Ye Yuanyuan asked, “Why couldn’t you save him if it happened again?”

“You think this was easy?” Jiang Fei rolled his eyes. “I didn’t break a sweat this time, but did you miss the two priceless pills I fed him?”

“How priceless?”

“500,000 RMB. Total. And for most people? They’re unobtainable—no amount of money could buy them.”

(He calculated based on his clinic’s gold-to-RMB exchange rate: 1,000 coins = 500,000 RMB profit. A hefty sum for his modest practice.)

Ye Yuanyuan blinked. “That expensive?” After a pause, she offered, “I’ll cover it.”

Jiang Fei’s eyes lit up. “You have 500,000?”

(Even if gold coins were irreplaceable, 500,000 RMB would soothe the sting. And with his mountain of debt, he wasn’t about to refuse.)

“Not personally. But the sanatorium owes you. They’ll pay.”

Jiang Fei’s grin turned shamelessly bright. “Ahem… Actually, I meant 500,000 per pill. Two pills? 1 million RMB.”

Before she could protest, he barreled on: “Don’t give me that look! This is a friendship discount! For anyone else? 5 million, no questions asked!”

Ye Yuanyuan walked away mid-sentence, but Jiang Fei yelled after her:

“1 million, not 500,000! And tell me when I’ll get it! I’ll remind you every day if I have to!”