The Immortal Path Is Crowded

The bedroom door opened with a soft creak, and an old man entered at a measured pace. He wore simple, unassuming robes, clean but worn from long use, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his back slightly stooped, and a serene expression of someone who had seen too much to be easily surprised. Everything about him marked him as a veteran physician.

Taking a couple more steps, he looked up, saw Jin sitting on the bed, and froze — eyes wide, body trembling slightly as if about to leap backward, like he'd just watched a corpse sit up and wave hello.

"What?!"

Jin, who hadn't expected that reaction, opened his eyes in surprise.

What the hell is wrong with this old man...? Has he never seen someone this handsome or what?

For a few awkward seconds neither spoke. The old man stared fixedly as if witnessing a miracle or a nightmare, while Jin watched him with one eyebrow slightly raised, growing more confused by the moment.

Deciding the silence had lasted long enough, Jin cleared his throat.

"Ahem..."

The old man flinched again.

"Hello, sir," Jin continued politely, though clearly disoriented, "could you... please... tell me what's going on and where I am?"

The old man blinked several times as if needing to confirm he wasn't dreaming, then advanced slowly toward the bed with cautious steps, as if the young man might disintegrate at any moment.

"You..." he murmured, "you should be unconscious. At least... for a week."

Jin sighed under his breath.

Great. Looks like getting up early wasn't in the plan.

The old man reacted abruptly and, without a word of explanation, stepped forward and grabbed Jin's wrist with a speed completely at odds with his calm appearance.

"Hey!" Jin exclaimed, startled, "sir, at least warn me..."

But before he could finish, a torrent of qi flowed from the old man's hand into his body, and Jin fell silent at once.

It was a calm, refined Qi, something only someone with solid foundations could possess.

Foundation Establishment, he thought instantly. He needed no more than that brief contact to be sure; he'd felt something very similar before.

The image of Senior Sister Mei came to mind — she was at the same stage, though her Qi was completely different, dominant and sharp as an unsheathed sword that inspired respect even without intent, while the old man's was softer and more contained — but he was undeniably someone at Foundation Establishment.

Meanwhile the old man frowned more and more as his Qi traveled through Jin's meridians, examining them with utmost care and pausing again and again at certain points as if he couldn't believe what he was finding.

"This..." he murmured, "your meridians..."

Jin swallowed.

So now they're going to tell me I'm crippled, huh? he thought ironically.

He withdrew his qi slightly, then injected it again, checking the same spot once more, as if suspecting his senses were playing a trick on him. The old man whispered, "Impossible..."

Hearing that, Jin couldn't help asking cautiously, "Is... is it very bad?"

Slowly raising his gaze, his eyes full of a strange mix of surprise, confusion, and something bordering on disbelief, he answered, "No. That's what's most baffling."

Tightening his grip on Jin's wrist, he added gravely, "Your body... has recovered almost completely."

Jin's heart skipped. "Huh?"

Finally releasing his wrist, he took a small step back, still frowning as if reorganizing everything he knew about the world. After clearing his throat, he said, "Listen carefully. Apart from the physical pain you feel, your body has already recovered almost completely."

Jin blinked. "Almost...?"

"Yes," the old man continued, looking him up and down, "at this rate the wound in your abdomen will disappear completely in a single day, even without any further intervention."

That truly surprised Jin.

Before he could respond, the old man began muttering to himself, pacing in small circles: "Abnormal regenerative capacity... tissues reconstructed without rejection... meridians contaminated, yet still stable... this makes no sense... not even with high-grade pills..."

Jin listened and understood absolutely nothing, so he raised his hand cautiously and asked, "Ahem... sir."

Snapping out of his trance, the old doctor looked at him.

"So," Jin said seriously, "does that mean I'm okay?"

"Correct." He answered, though his voice sounded like even he didn't believe it.

Jin sighed in relief, only to frown a moment later. "Then... why do I look like a mummy?"

He glanced at his bandaged arms, his torso, even part of his neck, and added with sincere concern, "And something even more important, what did you use to treat me so fast? You didn't use expensive resources, right?"

Hearing such a question, the old man raised an eyebrow.

"Because I'll say it straight," Jin continued, "I'm poor. Very poor. Extremely poor. An outer disciple with no backing. I can't afford anything expensive, not now or in the next... let's say... hundred years."

An awkward silence took over instantly. The old man stood completely still, staring at him as if he'd just heard a spirit beast talk.

"..."

"Sir?" Jin asked awkwardly, "are you still with me?"

Blinking once, then again, he finally took a deep breath. "What kind of young man...?" he murmured, bringing a hand to his forehead, "talks like that after being on the brink of death?"

He looked him up and down, as if trying to confirm he wasn't hallucinating. "Others wake up crying, thanking the heavens, or asking about their fate," he continued, "you... worry about debts."

Shrugging naturally, Jin replied as if stating a universal truth, "Debts kill more cultivators than demons, sir."

Such an answer left the old doctor, who had seen much in his long life, speechless.

For the third time since entering, he was left completely dumbfounded. He remained silent a few seconds longer, observing Jin as if trying to accept an uncomfortable truth, until he let out a long sigh heavy with resignation.

"Calm down," he said at last, waving a hand, "apart from emergency treatment and some medicinal herbs..."

He paused and glanced at him sideways. "Which weren't expensive at all." Jin froze.

"Really?" he asked cautiously, "normal grade? No legendary pills made with phoenix tears or ancestral dragon blood?"

"Where the hell would we get something like that?" the old man replied dryly.

Hearing the confirmation, Jin let out a sigh he hadn't known he was holding. "Thank heavens..."

"So you don't have to worry about repaying spirit stones," the old man continued, "no one's charging you anything."

That was enough to almost make Jin smile. "Ah, then everything's fine. In that case, sir, I also wanted to ask you..."

"No." The old man turned around before Jin could finish.

Without looking back he walked toward the door with quick, determined steps, while Jin instinctively reached out a hand. "Huh? But I just wanted to ask where..."

The door opened. "Rest," the old man said from the threshold, clearly determined not to hear another word, "someone will come later to explain the rest."

And without giving him a chance to respond, he left and closed the door behind him.

Silence filled the room. Jin sat on the bed, blinking.

"...What a personality!" he murmured.

Then he lay back carefully, staring at the ceiling. "No doubt," he added with a crooked smile, "he preferred to flee rather than follow my train of thought."

The room fell calm again, and Jin, for the first time since the fight, could rest without feeling like he was about to die at any moment.