Am I a Kamen Rider or the real young master who was switched at birth?

Ye Yang carried the packaged braised chicken and led the three Lin sisters through the winding alleyways.

The alley narrowed as you walked, the moss on the walls grew thicker, and old flowerpots and empty wine bottles, belonging to who-knows-who, were piled up at the base of the walls. Occasionally, you could hear the sound of a radio playing opera coming from one of the houses.

Lin Xingran followed behind, and after her hair was brushed by the clothesline hanging overhead for the third time, she finally couldn't help but ask, "Where exactly does your master live? This is a maze, isn't it?"

"We're almost there. Young man, don't be so impatient and agitated; it's bad for your health."

Finally, after turning the last corner, a faded vermilion wooden door appeared at the end of the alley.

Most of the paint on the door has peeled off, revealing the grayish-white wood grain underneath.

Above the door hangs a crooked wooden plaque with four characters written on it: "No Questions Asked at the Medical Clinic".

Below the plaque hung a string of dried mugwort and calamus, swaying gently in the breeze.

From a distance, they could hear a strong, resonant old man's voice coming from inside the courtyard.

"Young man—move faster! Use more force!"

Then came a few muffled thuds, followed by the old man's disappointed sigh.

"No good—you're still too weak! Let me teach you—what real combat is!!!"

Lin Xingran paused, turned to look at her older sister, and then at Ye Yang.

Lin Yumin also raised her eyebrows slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in her dark brown eyes.

They had assumed that Qin Buwen would be a wise and taciturn divine doctor.

After all, when Ye Yang introduced his master at the hospital, he used titles like "the number one divine doctor in the martial arts world" and "known as the real-life Hua Tuo."

Before they even entered the house, they heard him roaring at a young man in the courtyard, "What is a real battle?"

Ye Yang smiled with satisfaction, and said with a hint of pride, "Look how serious my master is. To be so dedicated to teaching his disciple, he truly deserves to be called the number one divine doctor in the martial arts world. Although he said before that I was his only disciple, I don't really believe his nonsense."

Lin Xingran's lips twitched; she wanted to say something but held back.

Lin Ying stood at the very back, still holding the unfinished pineapple bun in her hands, and tiptoed over the courtyard wall to peek inside.

Ye Yang reached out and pushed open the courtyard gate.

The wooden door creaked and groaned, its hinges probably having been unoiled for a long time; the sound carried far in the quiet alley.

There was no one in the courtyard, but countless medicinal herbs were drying in the sun.

Dried tangerine peel and licorice were laid on a bamboo sieve, several strings of dried chrysanthemums hung under the eaves, and several baskets of freshly harvested mugwort were placed on the bluestone ground. The air was filled with the bitter fragrance of the herbs mixed together.

The canopy of the old locust tree in the corner of the courtyard covers most of the yard. Under its shade, there is a stone table and several stone stools. On the stone table, there is a chessboard that has become blurred.

The rattan lounge chair in the center of the courtyard was empty, with a half-dry white towel draped over it.

"Master?" Ye Yang took two steps forward and looked around.

Then he heard a series of rapid keystrokes from above, mixed with the calm sniffing of a child.

He slowly raised his head.

On the second-floor corridor, a man wearing a dark blue Zhongshan suit was sitting on a low stool.

The fabric of his Zhongshan suit looked like it had been bought several years ago; the cuffs were worn and faded, and there were a few dried mugwort leaves stuck to his shoulders.

He looked to be in his early sixties, with thick, gray hair that was casually gathered at the back of his head.

He had a few sparse white whiskers on his chin, which reached just to his chest.

He was sitting cross-legged on a low stool, holding a game controller that was worn smooth and shiny, his body swaying from side to side in rhythm with the game screen.

His eyes were fixed on the old television screen in front of him, his brows furrowed, and the veins on his forehead throbbed faintly.

The fighting game on the screen is reaching its climax.

The character he was controlling, dressed in a red taekwondo uniform, was being pinned in a corner by his opponent and taking a series of smooth, quick combos.

His character's health bar was down to its last sliver, and the red flashing light made his old face appear to flicker between light and shadow.

Next to him sat a little boy who looked about seven or eight years old.

He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt with Ultraman printed on it (there was no seat, this shirt was also sewn by Ye Yang, who also opened an Ultraman chain store here), a pair of light-up sneakers, and a lollipop in his mouth.

The little boy is controlling a character wearing a blue martial arts uniform, who is using an extremely ruthless combo to beat Qin Buwen's character to death.

He held a game controller in one hand and was leisurely picking his nose with the other, even yawning in front of Qin Buwen.

On the screen, Qin Buwen's health bar had shrunk again. His fingers, gripping the game controller, were trembling slightly.

Just as his health bar was about to run out, Qin Buwen's eyes quickly swept to the side, then he raised his right foot and kicked the leg of the low stool the little boy was sitting on.

The stool was kicked so hard it flew off its feet. The little boy lost his balance and landed on the floor with a thud, the game controller in his hand nearly flying out of his grasp.

In that instant, Qin Buwen's fingers began frantically pressing buttons on the controller.

The character in the red taekwondo uniform popped out from the corner, unleashed a combo that sent the character in the blue taekwondo uniform flying, followed by a finishing move that instantly depleted the character's health bar.

The word "KO" popped up on the screen, accompanied by a thrilling victory sound effect.

Qin Buwen slowly placed the game controller on his lap, then stood up from the low stool.

He put his hands behind his back, raised his chin slightly, and his white beard swayed gently in the breeze. Suddenly, he transformed from a disheveled old man into a master with an air of authority.

He looked down at the bewildered little boy sitting on the floor, a mysterious smile appearing on his lips, and his voice suddenly became deep and magnetic.

"Hahaha—young man, you're still too young. Go back and train for a few more years—then come and challenge me again."

The little boy stood up from the floor, clutching his bottom.

With a calm expression, he took the lollipop out of his mouth, and then, under everyone's gaze, raised his right foot and stomped hard on Qin Buwen's left instep with the sole of his glowing sneakers.

Qin Buwen suddenly jerked, then hopped on one foot several times while clutching the foot that had been stepped on, letting out a series of muffled groans of "ouch, ouch."

The hem of his Zhongshan suit swung back and forth as he hopped on one foot.

The little boy put the lollipop back in his mouth, glanced at Qin Buwen's lower eyelids, stuck out his tongue, and then turned and ran away.

Qin Buwen gripped the corridor railing with one hand, and pointed a trembling finger at the little boy who had run away: "Hey! Don't run if you dare! Or I'll spank you until your bottom is raw!"

The courtyard was silent for several seconds. Lin Xingran stood next to Ye Yang, her lips twitching uncontrollably.

She turned to look at Ye Yang and said in a low voice, "Is this what you mean by 'serious'?"

Ye Yang covered his mouth with his hand and said to Lin Xingran in a low voice, "Seriously teaching someone else how to play games—isn't that being serious?"

Standing on his other side, Lin Yumin's gaze was still fixed on the old man in the second-floor corridor who was clutching his legs and grimacing. She added casually, "He tripped up the child."

Ye Yang opened his mouth, but found that he really couldn't refute this fact.

He took a deep breath, then looked up again, forcing a bright smile at the second-floor corridor. He waved and called out in a loud voice, "Master!"

Qin Buwen turned his head and saw Ye Yang in the courtyard and three young girls standing behind him whose clothes and demeanor were completely out of place here.

His gaze lingered on Lin Yumin for a few seconds before casually looking away.

He lowered the hand that was holding his foot and put it back behind his back.

Then he slowly extended his hand, his fingers slightly spread, and his voice returned to its previous unfathomable tone as he said, "No need to say more, you came to me—you must have encountered some trouble."

As soon as he finished speaking, he braced himself against the corridor railing with both hands and tumbled down from the second floor.

The hem of his Zhongshan suit spread out behind him, like a deep blue bat.

His body traced a clean, crisp arc in the air, his white beard stretching into a straight line in the wind, his posture appearing elegant and composed.

Lin Xingran's eyes widened suddenly, Lin Ying's chin also lifted slightly, and even Lin Yumin couldn't help but take a second look.

But the moment he landed, Qin Buwen's right foot stepped on a patch of moss that had just been watered.

His cloth shoes slipped on the wet moss, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward.

Then his knees buckled, and his body tilted forward uncontrollably.

He knelt right in front of Ye Yang and the three Lin sisters.

Ye Yang looked down at him, and the three Lin sisters also looked down at him.

Qin Buwen raised his head, his unfathomable expression remaining unchanged, as if he hadn't slipped and knelt, but rather deliberately chosen this posture to express some profound meaning.

After a few seconds of silence, Qin Buwen calmly said, "Ye Yang—hurry up and help your master up."

Ye Yang blinked, then hurriedly shoved the braised chicken into Lin Ying's hands, before squatting down and supporting Qin Buwen's arms with both hands.

"Oh, oh, oh—come on, Master, please slow down."

With Ye Yang's help, Qin Buwen stood up and then gracefully patted the dust off his Zhongshan suit knees.

Lin Xingran whispered behind him, "Now I finally understand why Ye Yang said his master was unreliable."

Lin Yumin didn't make a sound, but she gently closed her eyes, as if she was digesting something difficult to digest.

Just then, the sound of a door opening came from the other end of the courtyard.

The kitchen door opened, and a tall figure walked out, wiping his hands with his apron as he went.

He was wearing a simple white shirt and black trousers, with a light blue apron tied around his waist. The front of the apron was printed with a cartoon dragon holding a spatula, and next to it was a line of small print: "Dragon King's Special Chef".

His long, black hair was casually tied back with a chopstick, with a few stray strands falling down from his ears and sticking to his cheeks.

"Master—the food is ready, you can—" Long Aotian's voice stopped abruptly as if someone had grabbed his throat after he saw the few people standing in the courtyard.

Lin Yumin was standing in the courtyard, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the locust tree and falling on her dark hair and shoulders.

The hem of her trench coat fluttered gently in the breeze, and her deep brown eyes were calmly looking at him.

He looked down at himself and suddenly took a step back for some reason.

His slipper heel hit the threshold, causing him to lean back.

His hands frantically groped in the air several times before he finally managed to grab the door frame and barely steady himself.

Then he stood up shakily, wiped the flour on his hands haphazardly on his apron, and said in a slightly flustered voice, "Master—who are these people?"

His gaze darted back and forth between Ye Yang and Lin Yumin several times, as if his brain's information processing system had overloaded.

Ye Yang was the first to react.

He glanced at Qin Buwen, then at Long Aotian, gesturing back and forth between the two with his finger, and said as if he had expected it, "Master? Oh~ I wonder which disciple this is?"

"I remember you once said that teaching apprentices was too tiring, and that from now on you would only have me as your apprentice, right? When I was about to leave, you even held my hand and said, 'If you leave, I will have no apprentice'—do you remember? You even squeezed out a couple of tears. You weren't faking it, were you?"

Long Aotian stood at the kitchen doorway, then suddenly raised his hand to clutch his heart, his expression full of grievance as he said, "Master? Who is he? Why does he call you Master? Didn't you say—you only have me as your disciple?"

"Last year during Chinese New Year, I even put up Spring Festival couplets on the door. The first line read 'The teacher's kindness is boundless,' and the second line read 'Passing on the mantle alone'—you saw them and even praised my handwriting—how come you have another apprentice now?"

Qin Buwen stood there, facing the questioning gazes of his two disciples and the focused stares of the three Lin sisters, who seemed to enjoy the spectacle. His white beard fluttered slightly in the breeze.

Suddenly he raised his hands, looked up at the sky, and let out a loud, powerful laugh that echoed throughout the courtyard several times before dissipating.

"Hahaha—" He lowered his hands, then put them behind his back, his gaze sweeping back and forth between his two disciples.

Then he walked calmly toward the kitchen. "Now that things have come to this—let's eat first."

As he spoke, he pushed open the kitchen door, and a rich aroma of food wafted out. Without turning back, he walked into the kitchen, leaving Ye Yang and Long Aotian standing in the yard, looking at each other in bewilderment.

Ye Yang's left eyelid twitched, and Long Aotian's right eyelid also twitched.