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

Song Zhiming pushed open the wooden door of the main room, and a mixture of the bitterness of herbs and the stale scent of old books rushed out of the room.

The three followed Song Zhiming into the house.

The interior was more tidy than the courtyard. A row of medicine cabinets stood against the wall on the left, with labels bearing the names of the medicines written in neat small characters on each small drawer.

To the right is an old-fashioned mahogany desk, on which sits a desk lamp, an open thread-bound medical book, and a pair of reading glasses.

Long Aotian slowly walked around the room, his gaze finally landing on an old photograph hanging on the wall next to the desk.

The black and white photo was framed in a dark red wooden frame. The edges of the frame were slightly faded, but the glass was spotless, showing that the owner cherished it.

In the photo, two young men stand side by side under an osmanthus tree, wearing Zhongshan suits, which were popular at the time.

The one on the left has a dignified appearance, a tall and straight posture, a heroic air between his brows, and a spirited smile on his lips.

The one on the right appears much quieter and more reserved; his eyes are gentle, and he has a subtle smile on his lips.

Song Zhiming stood next to Long Aotian and looked up at the photo.

His gaze lingered on the photograph for a long time, then he raised his fingernail-less hand and gently wiped the dust off the glass of the frame with his fingertips.

He pointed to the handsome man in the photo, a faint smile in his voice, and asked, "This is a photo of me and my senior brother—look, which one is him?"

Long Aotian frowned, took a half step closer, and carefully examined the two young men in the photo.

He first looked at the dashing man on his left, then at the quiet and reserved young man on his right.

His gaze darted back and forth between the two men several times, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper, his fingers twirling between the two figures several times but never daring to strike.

Ye Yang walked over from the side and peeked at the photo.

Unlike Long Aotian, he didn't hesitate and pointed directly at the handsome man on the left: "Could it be him?"

Song Zhizhi chuckled softly, then nodded and said, "That's true."

Long Aotian suddenly turned his head and opened his mouth into an "O" shape.

He turned his head back to stare at the dashing and debonair young man in the photo, and then the image of his master involuntarily appeared in his mind.

He tried to piece the two images together in his mind, but failed several times.

"Did Master look like this when he was young?"

"Your master was a prominent figure in the clinic back in the day," Song Zhizhi said calmly, leaning against the edge of the desk, his gaze still fixed on the photograph.

"Not only is he handsome and skilled in martial arts, but his medical skills are also several levels above ours. To be honest, he's so amazing that we're a little jealous."

"I'm considered one of the best among my fellow disciples, but your master is the kind of person who makes everyone automatically step back when he's around."

He lowered his eyes and said in a complicated tone, "But he retired from the martial arts world after that. He never told us the specific reasons. We only heard that he went to some remote place and opened a clinic, and then he never showed up in the industry again. I haven't seen him for many years."

He raised his finger and gently tapped the edge of the photo frame, his voice even softer, "Later, my health gradually deteriorated. I got older, and my energy couldn't keep up. I followed my senior's example and came to the Black Forest, where I opened a clinic. This place is quiet and suitable for recuperation."

Ye Yang nodded without asking any further questions.

Lin Ying stood behind the three of them without saying a word, but her gaze shifted back and forth between the photo and Song Zhiming several times.

In the photo, Song Zhiming looked to be in her early twenties. Compared to the old man standing in front of her now, their facial features could still be roughly matched, but their overall spirit and energy were completely different.

The young man in the photo was quiet, but his eyes were bright. The old man in front of her had deep-set eyes, and there was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

She secretly did some mental calculations.

Master Qin Buwen and Song Zhiming are not much different in age. Although Qin Buwen's appearance is indeed very sloppy, his spirit is excellent.

Although he failed to land properly when he jumped from the second floor this morning, his agility was nothing like that of a 60 or 70-year-old man.

The man in front of Qin Buwen, Song Zhiming, looked at least ten years older and appeared to be in a very weak state.

Long Aotian looked at the photo, then at Song Zhiming's wrinkled face, remained silent for several seconds, and then sighed, "Time—it's truly a cruel mistress."

Song Zhiming chuckled and patted Long Aotian on the shoulder.

"Hey—are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? I have some cured meat from the Black Forest and some freshly picked black berries; I can cook you a few dishes. You've come all the way from your senior brother's place, how can I let you go back hungry?"

Ye Yang took half a step forward, raised his hands slightly, and said respectfully, "Let's forget about that, Uncle-Master. We're here to take care of some important business first. Master said he has a few medicinal herbs that can only be found in the Black Forest, and we want to collect them as soon as possible."

Song Zhiming looked at him for a moment, then nodded without pressuring him.

"Okay. I happen to have some of the medicines you mentioned here. Black forest wild mushrooms, black forest honey, and a few snake-repelling herbs. I'll go and get them for you right away."

After he finished speaking, he turned around, pushed open the door of the pharmacy, and went inside. The door swayed slightly behind him, and through the crack, one could see his slightly hunched back as he moved between the medicine cabinets.

Just then, the wooden gate to the courtyard was suddenly kicked open from the outside.

The wooden door slammed against the courtyard wall and bounced, making a dull thud.

Immediately afterward, hurried footsteps rushed into the courtyard, and at the same time, a woman's voice boomed through the yard: "Dr. Song—Dr. Song—!!!"

She pushed open the door to the main room.

When the woman rushed in and saw the room full of people, she froze on the spot as if a pause button had been pressed.

Ye Yang and Long Aotian recognized her at the same time; this woman was the same one they had seen at the entrance of town.

But she looks worse now than she did back then.

Her hair was disheveled over her shoulders, with a few strands stuck to her cheeks by sweat and tears.

Her eyes were red and swollen, with dark circles under them, making it look like she hadn't slept for at least several days.

Her hands were clenched tightly in front of her, and the veins on the back of her hands bulged.

Ye Yang and Long Aotian turned their heads and looked at each other almost simultaneously.

Long Aotian frowned slightly, while Ye Yang's fingers unconsciously rested on the magenta camera in front of his chest.

The pharmacy door was pushed open from the inside. Song Zhiming walked out, carrying a medicine packet in his hand.

He paused abruptly when he saw the woman at the door. His eyes flickered for a moment, but he quickly put on a gentle smile again.

He casually adjusted the collar of his dark gray long robe, concealing a small patch of dark purple marks that had appeared on his neck.

He asked in a kind, gentle voice, "What's wrong? Is there something you need? Don't worry, tell me slowly."

The woman nodded, her lips trembling violently.

Her gaze swept quickly over Song Zhiming's shoulder, glancing at the three strangers in the room before returning to her own.

"My head hurts—my head hurts—I wanted to see you. My old problem has flared up again. Could you give me some acupuncture?"

After listening to her words, Song Zhizhi nodded slightly. He turned around, waved to Long Aotian and Ye Yang, and said in a gentle voice:

"Why don't you go to my pharmacy first? I have all kinds of medicinal herbs. There's realgar powder for repelling snakes in the cabinet on the right, and dried black shiitake mushrooms in the drawer on the left. You should have what you need. I'll check this patient's headache first; it'll be fine soon."

Long Aotian looked at Song Zhiming, his gaze lingering on his face for a second. Then a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Then I'll have to trouble you, Martial Uncle."

After he finished speaking, he tugged at Ye Yang's sleeve, and the two turned and walked towards the pharmacy, with Lin Ying following behind them.

The three men walked past the woman one by one. Ye Yang walked in the middle, and he deliberately slowed his pace as he passed the woman.

He lowered his head and glanced at her sideways. The woman sensed his gaze, turned her head slightly, and hid her eyes behind her loose hair, avoiding his gaze.

The door to the main house closed gently behind them.

Song Zhiming stood in the main room, watching the three young people's figures disappear through the doorway. Then he slowly wiped the smile off his face.

He placed the medicine packet on the desk, then walked to the front door and closed it.

He turned and walked up to the woman, without saying a word, but simply reached under the desk and pressed a very inconspicuous groove.

The wall next to the desk slid silently to the side, revealing a narrow, hidden door.

Behind the door was a staircase leading downwards, at the top of which a faint candlelight flickered.

He turned to the side and nodded to the woman.

The woman lowered her head and walked quickly inside. Song Zhiming followed her through the hidden door and then closed the door from the inside.

Once the hidden door is closed, it fits perfectly against the wall, making it impossible to tell that there is a door there.

The dark room was narrow, just enough for two people to stand side by side.

The walls were rough stone on all four sides, and an oil lamp was lit in one corner.

The flame flickered on the wick, casting long, distorted shadows on the wall.

Song Zhizhi turned around and looked at the woman.

The light from the oil lamp illuminated half of his face, making it half bright and half dark. The gentle and kind smile that had been on his wrinkled face in the main room was completely gone.

"What do you want from me? Didn't I already give you the medicine? It's enough for you for a month."

The woman looked up at him, her lips trembling violently. Her hands were twisted together in front of her, her fingers digging into several bright red marks.

"Old Mo didn't come home last night. I've been waiting for him under the big tree all night, from dusk yesterday to dawn this morning, but he still hasn't come back."

"He always came back before; he always returned before sunrise. But he didn't this time. Did something happen to him?"

Song Zhiming placed his hands together in front of him, then leaned against the stone wall and said in a very soft voice:

"Old Mo is safe, he's fine. You know he can't come out during the day because of the sunlight. He's probably hiding in some mine in the forest right now. Besides, you know what he did last night."

He looked up at the woman, the light of the oil lamp casting two deep, unfathomable shadows in his eye sockets.

"He killed that kid Chen Bing. Of course, he should hide for a while. But don't worry, I've made all the arrangements. I gave the search and rescue team the wrong directions; they'll be searching in the swamp to the east for a long time."

"But—but—" The woman's voice suddenly became agitated. She took a step forward and grabbed Song Zhiming's sleeve with one hand.

"The police came today! The search and rescue team's commotion alerted the townspeople! And—and those three guys from earlier. The long-haired man and the man with the camera didn't look like trouble! They might be Awakened!"

"If they find out about Lao Mo, he's finished! Dr. Song—please help him—please save him—I have nothing left—"

Song Zhizhi slowly raised his hand and gently placed the nailless hand on her shoulder.

Then he coughed a few times and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "It's nothing. I've arranged everything—"

Before he could finish speaking, he coughed a few more times. He quickly withdrew his hand, covered his mouth, and coughed twice before he recovered.

"Something else will attract the attention of the police and those outsiders; they won't notice Old Mo. Old Mo will be fine."

He released her hand and looked down into her eyes: "You didn't take off his mask, did you?"

The woman shook her head vigorously, her voice urgent, "No! I didn't pick them! You said I couldn't pick them—I've always remembered!"

Song Zhizhi nodded, his expression softening slightly, and his voice became gentler.

"Remember this—you absolutely must not take off the mask. Otherwise, Old Mo really won't come back. That mask took me several years to make—without it, Old Mo will—"

He didn't continue. The flame of the oil lamp flickered in his eyes, then he stopped talking and put on a faint smile again.

"Okay—okay—I'll wait for Lao Mo to come home, I'll go back and wait for Lao Mo to come home. Thank you, Dr. Song, thank you—I'll go back and wait for him now."

As she spoke, the woman turned around with slightly unsteady steps, pushed open the hidden door, and walked out.

Footsteps echoed up the stairs, followed by the muffled sound of the main door being opened.

Song Zhiming stood in the dark room, listening to the footsteps gradually fade away. Then he started coughing again.

This time, his cough was worse than before. He braced himself against the stone wall with one hand and bent over.

He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and covered his mouth. When the coughing stopped, a small dark red spot appeared on the handkerchief.

He looked down at the handkerchief, folded the blood-stained side inward, and tucked it back into his sleeve.

He leaned against the stone wall, catching his breath for a few moments. Then he straightened up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and pushed open the hidden door before walking out.

The main room was quiet.

Sunlight streamed through the window, making the labels of medicinal herbs on the wall glow slightly.

Song Zhiming stood in front of his desk, looking down at the photo of himself and his senior brother. He gently stroked the edge of the frame with his finger before turning and walking toward the pharmacy.

In the deepest shadows of the dark room, a magenta light suddenly appeared.

Decade deactivated his stealth and emerged from the darkness.

He stood in the flickering light of the oil lamp, looked down at his gloves, and then patted the dust off his hands.

He turned around, his emerald green compound eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.