A Boneless Old Man and a Young Doctor

Five years prior…

A young boy, barely in his teen years, walked alone, a slightly-too-large-for-him pack over his shoulders. Wearing a simple white robe bearing the symbol of the Seven Clouds Medicine School, he trudged through the forest path, his teeth gritted. Under his clothes, he bore scars, still ugly despite their age of years.

But that was not why he grit his teeth. No, to ascertain that reason, one would only need look at the crimson staining the pure white of the boy’s uniform, a fresh wound to his lower abdomen. His breath came laboriously, even as he continued his journey, his face paling, sweat dripping down his face, a trail of blood left behind him.

There, on the side of an obscure forest path, the boy finally collapsed, falling to the dirt. He reached out, desperately, clawing into the ground, trying to climb to his feet, or at least crawl forward.

But his strength was running out, and he collapsed, finally, unconscious.


Young Zheng Hao awoke to a strange old man looming over him, one hand reaching down to carve into his flesh. Panic shot through him, as he began to force himself up, but a weight pressed down on him, keeping him trapped against the forest floor.

“Now, now, be still. This is a precise art. I’ll let you free when I’m done.” The old man chided, his voice kind in contrast to his emaciated appearance.

Zheng Hao ignored him for a few moments longer, trying to struggle free, before finally settling down, out of tiredness and lack of energy more than anything else. He winced at the pain as the old man carved away, but soon enough, he felt his body start to relax, and the pain began to fade.

The old man finally stopped carving, and retreated from his looming position. “Now, just rest for a short while.”

Zheng Hao finally spoke up, suspicion lacing his words “What are you doing to me?”

The old man chuckled slightly, a strange noise. He settled against a nearby tree, where Zheng Hao could no longer see him.

“Nothing, right now. I just finished my ministrations.”

“What were you doing to me, then?” Zheng Hao demanded, his voice strangled slightly with exasperation.

“Just a small amount of ribbing, really.”

Zheng Hao paused. He still couldn’t move his head, but he squinted in scrutiny at the canopy above him. What does that mean…?

The old man chuckled again, delayed. He seemed quite amused with himself. “I’ve healed you, child. Cease worrying your skull about it.”

The force which had been holding Zheng Hao still evaporated, and he shot straight up-

And blinked, feeling no pain, his energy and vigour restored. Glancing down, he took note of the symbols carved onto his body, but upon further inspection, found no more wounds, only a scar where before a gaping hole in his torso had sat.

He turned to the old man, cupping his hands before him and bowing. “Thank you for your assistance, senior!”

Upon hearing movement, Zheng Hao raised his head, only to see the old man already moving off, humming to himself.


In the present…

Zheng Hao, the older, just-an-adult Zheng Hao, dressed in teal, knelt beside a patient.

“I told you, I’m fine. My wounds have healed, and the poison was flushed from my system.” the patient protested.

Zheng Hao took him by the wrist, and felt out his condition using his Meridian Pulse Sensory Art. He’d grown more and more accustomed to this technique since he’d started travelling the world, and it took him only a few moments to assess the veracity of that statement.

He reached forward, and pushed aside the man’s shirt, revealing strange scars on his body. The patient sighed in response, but allowed the inspection to happen.

This method of healing… It’s strange. I’ve only seen it once before. That old man has been through here recently? Zheng Hao mused, his brow furrowing as he inspected the scars from a scholarly point of view.

It was an odd discipline, for sure, but he could see the fundamentals, if only faintly. He committed the ideas to memory, innovations or additions he could attempt to translate already blooming in his mind.

With that, he let go of the man’s wrist and stood up. “You’re correct. Forgive me for doubting. If you remember any details about your attacker, come find me. I’ll be staying in the city for a week, at least.”

The man nodded, adjusting his shirt and tightening his sash. “Sure thing, kid.”

Zheng Hao exhaled quietly, exasperated at the use of the word ‘kid’; the man was only a few years older than him, and they shared the same realm. But it mattered not.

Zheng Hao left the room, sliding the door shut behind him gently, and returned to the city streets.

Edit Report
Pub: 27 Oct 2023 04:23 UTC
Edit: 27 Oct 2023 04:29 UTC
Views: 270