Chaotic Times and Disasters: I Hunt Down Martial Arts Masters and Become a God

In the distance came the sound of dense hooves and the appearance of the iron eagle flag with a black background and gold trim behind the earthen slope. Tian Jingming's personal guard cavalry rushed into the grove of low trees. The horses' hooves trampled over the dead branches and rocks. The cavalrymen spread out and surrounded Duan Tieshan and his swordsmen.

Before the swordsmen could even put down their swords, cavalry crossbow bolts were pointed at their heads, and one by one they threw their swords to the ground.

Tian Jingming jumped off his horse, and his bodyguard handed him his sword. He held the sword and walked up to Duan Tieshan. He looked at Fu Qing, who was lying on the ground covered in blood, and Zhou Tie, whose back was cleaved open by a large knife. Then he looked at Duan Tieshan, who was standing on the ground expressionless.

"Duan Tieshan".

Tian Jingming squinted at him. "Attacking a border centurion with intent to murder—do you know what crime that is?"

Looking at the knife in Tian Jingming's hand, Duan Tieshan sneered and spread his hands.

"Commander Tian, ​​I am the city lord of Ironblood City appointed by the imperial court. You need the military's approval to kill me."

Tian Jingming was silent for a moment, then waved to his guards, "Take him down and escort him to the Jingjing Military Headquarters."

The guards rushed forward and pinned Duan Tieshan to the ground. When the iron chains were put on his wrists, Duan Tieshan did not resist.

As he was being led past Fu Qing, he paused for a moment, looked down at Fu Qing lying on the ground covered in blood, and the two locked eyes for a brief instant.

Duan Tieshan laughed coldly, "You'd better break through the realm faster, or what I just said will come true."

The guards shoved him, and he stumbled as he continued walking forward, eventually being put into a prison cart.

Tian Jingming squatted down next to Fu Qing and looked down to examine the knife wound on his back.

What happened next flashed before Fu Qing's eyes like a revolving lantern.

The military doctor lifted him and Zhou Tie onto a stretcher at the same time. Zhou Tie, lying on the stretcher, was still cursing and telling the military doctor to stop Fu Qing's bleeding first.

Xiao Lu squeezed through the crowd, sweating profusely, and squatted next to Fu Qing's stretcher, his lips trembling.

Tian Jingming's personal guards escorted Duan Tieshan's prison cart southward, the sound of horses' hooves gradually fading at the end of the official road.

...

Fu Qing lay in Shen's Pharmacy for three whole days before he could vaguely hear the sounds of the outside world.

Duan Tieshan's knife slashed into the back, almost touching the spine. The deepest part of the wound revealed the bone. The blood loss was so great that several military doctors shook their heads and privately told Zhou Tie that the man was probably beyond saving.

Zhou Tie lay shirtless on the stretcher beside him, blood still seeping from the knife wound on his back where he had shielded Fu Qing.

Upon hearing this, he gave the military doctor a thorough dressing-down, "If you can't save him, you're all fired! Go to the front lines and become suicide squads!"

Tian Jingming brought over two of the best military doctors from the front lines for a consultation.

The two veteran military doctors stood by Fu Qing's bedside for a while, unwrapped the bandages to examine the wound, took his pulse, checked his eyelids, and then shook their heads at Song Yawei.

One of them sighed and said that he had lost too much blood and his qi and blood were completely depleted. Even if he used the medicine from the Shangyao Palace, it could only prolong the illness for a few days. He told the family to prepare for the worst.

Mr. Shen kicked everyone out.

He stood at the entrance of the pharmacy, leaning on his old sandalwood cane, and bowed to the two military doctors and Tian Jingming's personal guards.

"Please return, everyone. I will treat Brother Fu's injuries."

The military doctors exchanged bewildered glances. Tian Jingming's personal guards seemed about to say something, but were silenced by a glare from Old Mr. Shen.

"I have been practicing medicine for forty years. If I say I can cure it, I can cure it. You are just standing here doing nothing. Why don't you go back and rest?" After saying that, he closed the door.

He closed all the doors and windows of the pharmacy tightly, drew the curtains, and had Shen Yao stand guard outside to prevent anyone from entering.

Then he moved a chair and sat down in front of Fu Qing's bed, and pulled out a sandalwood box that had been sealed for many years from the deepest part of the medicine cabinet.

The box was opened, revealing a small bronze stove about the size of a palm. The stove was covered with fine medicinal patterns, and a layer of dark green rust was embedded in the patterns.

Mr. Shen placed the bronze censer above Fu Qing's chest, sat cross-legged on the chair with his eyes closed, and held his hands above the censer.

During his unconsciousness, Fu Qing vaguely felt a cool current flowing over his wound.

It was like an extremely thin and cool snake, which burrowed into the wound on the chest and swam forward little by little along the blood vessels and muscles. Every place it swam over, the flesh there began to heal like dry soil after being watered by spring rain.

He tried to open his eyes in a daze, but his eyelids wouldn't lift. He could only feel the coolness moving back and forth on the cut on his back countless times, each movement making the wound a little shallower.

Before he passed out, he smelled a faint medicinal fragrance, but it wasn't the smell of herbs; rather, it was a lighter and more delicate aroma.

...

Three days later, when he woke up, the first person he saw was Mr. Shen.

The old man sat on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed, his hands hovering above his chest, a ball of pale green light, only the size of a fist, floating between his palms, its light soft.

A small clump of grayish-white ash in the bronze furnace was still emitting the last wisp of smoke, and the medicinal fragrance had faded to almost undetectable.

Mr. Shen opened his eyes and put his hands back into his sleeves, and the green light disappeared.

He reached out and took Fu Qing's pulse for a while, then let out a long breath, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

The old man's face was full of fatigue, his eyes were sunken, and the white hair at his temples was almost twice as much as it had been three days ago.

Fu Qing tried to speak, but his throat was dry and he couldn't utter a single word.

Mr. Shen waved his hand to tell him to be quiet, then got up, poured a bowl of warm water, and held it to his lips.

"Brother Fu, when I was young, I studied medicine at the Jingjing Medicine Palace. Later, due to some unforeseen circumstances, I left the Medicine Palace and opened a small pharmacy in this Iron Blood City under an assumed name."

"Only when one reaches the seventh rank in the art of medicine can one be considered to have entered the inner sanctum. My meager cultivation is only between the ninth and eighth ranks. I have not dared to show it in front of others all these years. Your injury is too severe, so I had no choice but to break my vow."

Fu Qing leaned against the headboard, took a couple of sips of water to moisten her throat.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Shen, for saving my life."

Mr. Shen waved his hand, picked up a new roll of bandage from the table, and began to change Fu Qing's dressing. The incision on his back had already scabbed over, and the speed of healing surprised even Mr. Shen himself.

...

Song Yawei and Song Nini were only allowed to enter on the afternoon of the day Fu Qing woke up.

Mr. Shen was afraid that seeing Fu Qing unconscious would harm the fetus, so he had Shen Yao stop them for the first three days.

As soon as the two sisters entered the room, they didn't say anything, but just stood in front of the bed and looked down at the bandages wrapped all over Fu Qing's chest and back.

Song Yawei's eyes were red and swollen, and she reached out to squeeze Fu Qing's hand.

"Don't work so hard anymore. You have a son, a daughter, and a family. What will happen to Nini and me if anything happens to you? What will happen to the children?"

Fu Qing lay on the bed looking at her, grinning, "This was an accident, don't worry, it won't happen again."

Song Nini sat at the foot of the bed, not daring to get close. She was afraid that if she got close, she would touch Fu Qing's wound. So she sat far away at the foot of the bed, one hand on her slightly protruding belly, the other hand clutching the quilt, her eyes filled with tears.

Seeing her like this, Fu Qing reached out and pulled her to his side. Song Nini was startled and quickly braced herself against the bed to avoid pressing on his wound.

Fu Qing used his uninjured hand to wipe away her tears.

"Stop crying, your face is all scrunched up like a steamed bun. What if our baby is born all scrunched up too? I hope it won't be like you."

Upon hearing this, Song Nini grabbed a pillow, intending to throw it at him, but then remembered the injuries on his chest and back, and angrily put the pillow down gently.

"Brother-in-law, all you do is talk big! If you die one day, my sister and I will remarry with our wives, and your son will have to call someone else 'Dad'!"

Fu Qing's eyes widened suddenly. "You brat, just wait until I'm better, I'll spank you until your bottom is raw!"