The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 186

At that moment, an elderly man dressed in a plain white Tang suit entered the hall.

Though clearly advanced in age—likely the oldest person in the room—he carried himself with remarkable vigor. His face bore no age spots, and his stride lacked any trace of the frailty typical of the elderly.

The moment he appeared, the members of the Medical Association straightened instinctively, their expressions shifting to one of deep respect. Even the leaders of the three major sects hurried forward to greet him with utmost courtesy.

Cui Xiuping, who had been racking his brain over how to keep Jiang Fei from leaving (and thus fulfill his grandfather’s request), finally exhaled in relief. He quickly approached the old man and said, “Grandfather, you’re here!”

This tall, lean figure in the Tang suit—whose aura of wisdom and grace set him apart from the other physicians—was none other than the legendary “Ghost Hand” Cui Qinghe, the revered master of Chinese medicine.

Though Cui Qinghe held only the honorary title of president within the Medical Association (with less actual authority than the three sect leaders), his reputation, skill, and ethics far surpassed theirs. In the world of traditional Chinese medicine—much like academia—mastery commanded respect. Thus, Cui had become the Association’s moral compass, its unshakable pillar.

A month prior, it was this very man who had single-handedly salvaged Chinese medicine’s crumbling reputation abroad, astounding Western doctors with his unparalleled expertise. Without him, the upcoming exchange between Eastern and Western medicine would never have been possible; the media would have already buried TCM under a mountain of scathing reports.

Jiang Fei studied the old master with curiosity. This living legend, whom he’d heard so much about but never met, evoked an unexpected surge of admiration.

Unlike most men, Jiang Fei didn’t judge by appearances—he found it unreliable, as true character was often hidden. Yet Cui Qinghe shattered that belief. Some people radiated integrity so unmistakably that it transcended ordinary standards.

Earlier, Jiang Fei had scrutinized every physician in the hall, including the three sect leaders, and found none worthy of his respect. But now? This man was different. In him, Jiang Fei saw the qualities he’d always associated with a true master of Chinese medicine: unyielding principles and quiet dignity.

TCM practitioners weren’t Daoist immortals—they didn’t cultivate “immortal energy.” Yet a healer of Cui’s caliber, paired with his ethics, should never resemble someone like Yu Qingsong. They didn’t need domineering presence; their aura spoke for itself.

Before coming here, Jiang Fei had wondered if he’d encounter a physician of unshakable virtue—someone like himself. Disappointingly, none of the hundred-odd attendees, nor the sect leaders, had fit the bill.

Until now.

“So you’re Jiang Fei?” Cui Qinghe asked, smiling warmly.

Jiang Fei returned the smile. “That’s me.”

“Good. A young man with integrity and courage—unflinching even in the heart of the Medical Association. Rare for a practitioner these days. Very good!” The old master clasped his hands behind his back, nodding approvingly.

Jiang Fei noted, with some surprise, that despite his advanced age (likely seventies or eighties), Cui hadn’t shrunk in height. His tall, slender frame nearly matched Jiang Fei’s own—a rarity among the elderly, who typically grew shorter with time.

“Though,” Cui added, his gaze steady, “while pride and ambition are virtues in youth, arrogance is less so. Don’t you agree?”

Jiang Fei rubbed his nose sheepishly. The message was clear: his earlier outburst, though justified, had been excessive.

Truthfully, he’d been so intent on venting his frustration that he’d deliberately burned bridges, consequences be damned.

“Well, I’m not usually that arrogant,” Jiang Fei offered.

Cui chuckled. “I’m not scolding you. In my youth, I’d have likely done the same. Now—Sect Leader Kong has already explained the purpose of today’s gathering, yes?”

At Jiang Fei’s nod, Cui continued: “Then I’ll be brief. Chinese medicine is at a crossroads. To survive, we can’t cling blindly to tradition. The young must lead with courage and conviction—because when two armies clash, victory favors the bold. Without that spirit, how can we hope to rival Western medicine?”

Though he’d begun addressing Jiang Fei, his words soon encompassed the entire room.

“And as practitioners, we all share a duty to preserve and advance this art. Jiang Fei, I understand your anger. But petty conflicts shouldn’t divorce you from our community’s future. Agreed?”

The subtext was obvious: Cui still wanted him in the Medical Duel Competition, just as he’d proposed in his invitation letter.

Under the old master’s expectant gaze, Jiang Fei sighed. “You flatter me, Master Cui. How could someone like me influence Chinese medicine’s trajectory?”

“You can,” Cui said firmly. “In the upcoming exchange, you’ll be indispensable.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. No one had anticipated Cui’s unwavering support for this brash outsider—not just endorsing his character, but outright declaring his medical prowess superior to the three sects’ elite disciples, even his own grandson!

What did Cui know that they didn’t?

Then Yu Ruzhi, the Fire God Sect’s alluring leader, glided forward, her eyes alight. “Master Cui is right. With you participating, we’re guaranteed results.”

Jiang Fei shot her a puzzled glance. Cui’s faith might stem from knowing he’d cured General Ye Zhengnan’s legs and neutralized the Poison King’s toxins—but how did she have such confidence in him?

“I’m not opposed to the exchange,” Jiang Fei said slowly, “but…” He glanced pointedly at Yu Qingsong. “Certain individuals vowed to quit the Association if I joined. I’d hate to be the villain here.”

The room collectively winced. Even with two legends vouching for him, Jiang Fei was twisting the knife—and Yu Qingsong’s face purpled with humiliation.

The old professor inhaled sharply before addressing Cui. “Master, I’ve always revered your ethics. But today, I must disagree.”

“Oh?” Cui’s expression remained neutral.

“I admit Jiang Fei bested me in Jincheng,” Yu said through gritted teeth, “but my opposition isn’t personal. His skills pale next to our rising stars—Sect Leader Cui’s grandson included. He doesn’t deserve to represent us. Worse, he flaunts the title ‘King of Acupuncture,’ a hubris unheard of in centuries! How can such a man join our ranks?”

Cui listened patiently before responding:

“First, Jiang Fei’s abilities will be proven in the duel. Second…” His voice hardened. “That title? He’s earned it. Every bit of it.”