Chapter Seventy-One: One Against Many

Yuan Hongyu’s heart had begun to fill with worry. Though he had unwavering faith in his master’s abilities, this act of challenging everyone in the hall single-handedly seemed far too reckless. Yuan Hongyu had no idea whether Yan Yuanqing would be able to endure. Words once spoken are like water spilled—irretrievable—and by now, people in the audience were preparing to question Yan Yuanqing.

Yan Yuanqing casually pointed at someone, all the while preparing his mind to recall the contents of the Emperor’s External Canon, ready to respond promptly.

“Master Yan, since you are the mentor of Divine Physician Yuan, and Divine Physician Yuan is most skilled in surgery, I’d like to ask you a question related to surgery. Regardless of the outcome, your courage today deserves recognition! Only by advancing fearlessly, undaunted by anything, can one achieve greater academic heights and continue moving forward.”

Yan Yuanqing nodded gently, indicating the man could begin.

“If a person develops black markings on their body, resembling plum blossoms, and falls into a deep coma, with slurred speech and flailing limbs as if drawing invisible lines in the air, what kind of disease is this? How should it be treated?”

As soon as the doctor posed his question, the surrounding crowd assumed expressions of schadenfreude. They knew this doctor—he was a renowned surgeon across China, highly accomplished, with few rivals in his field. The ailment he described was his signature expertise.

The rest of the audience had no idea how to respond to such a question. Hearing that this doctor had brought out his trump card, it was clear he was quite displeased with Yan Yuanqing’s display on stage.

Yan Yuanqing listened, smiled slightly, and then fell into deep thought.

“This illness sounds very similar to the rigid blood syndrome I’ve encountered before, but it isn’t quite the same. Though the patient’s consciousness is obscured, some initiative remains, hence the flailing and drawing lines in the air!”

“If that’s the case…”

After a brief moment of contemplation, just as the audience began to suspect Yan Yuanqing was stumped—and the doctor was ready with words to lecture the young man on humility—Yan Yuanqing suddenly smiled and replied calmly.

“This condition should be a variant of rigid blood syndrome. It could be called secondary rigid blood syndrome; the symptoms are milder than the original, and it can be treated using conventional methods.”

“The most common, such as bloodletting.”

At this final remark, the doctor who had questioned Yan Yuanqing’s face changed dramatically. Bloodletting was his closely guarded technique.

Most doctors, when confronted with such a case, would never dare make such a decision lightly. The patient’s body was already ravaged by illness, and a reckless attempt at bloodletting could easily result in sudden death, with no chance of rescue. The moment blood gushed forth, the symptoms would be fully triggered, beyond the reach of current medical intervention.

The doctor felt his head buzzing as he sat back down, unable to fathom how this young man had resolved such a challenge so effortlessly.

“So the best treatment for this disease is actually bloodletting? We’ve never confirmed such a method before—how bold!”

“Yes, I originally thought that when he uttered ‘bloodletting,’ the young man had lost. But now it seems bloodletting may truly be feasible!”