The next morning, rin opens the doors of his clinic. Barely a few minutes pass before a carriage pulls up outside. The Mori family's butler steps down first, followed by a young man and a young woman.
rin isn't surprised. He had already spoken with the Mori family patriarch the day before—he knew they would send people to assist him.
The butler approaches with a polite nod. "Mr. Matsuda, good morning."
rin returns the nod and looks at the two standing behind the butler. He recognises the woman from his three-day stay at the Mori estate—Sora, the niece of the Mori family's healer.
The butler gestures toward her. "You're already acquainted with Sora. She will be your assistant." Then he points to the young man. "This is Ren. He'll handle errands and other minor tasks for you."
rin nods. "I assu Lord Mori has a task for ?"
The butler smiles faintly. "Let's speak in your office."
They step inside. Once seated, the butler retrieves a scroll from his sleeve and hands it to rin. rin unrolls it. Several pages are attached, each listing nas, addresses, and symptoms.
"These individuals," the butler explains, "have been diagnosed with incurable illnesses—according to the healers of the Sekio family or those affiliated with them. Your task is simple: treat and cure as many of them as you can."
rin scans the symptoms carefully, noting the patterns with a practised eye.
The butler then draws out two more docunts. "This," he says, holding out the first, "is the deed to this house. It has been transferred to your na." He hands it over, then passes the second paper. "And this is a copy of the Cloud Sword Technique."
rin takes both docunts without a word. His expression remains calm, but a sharp glint of focus flashes in his eyes.
The butler asks, "When will you begin?"
rin thinks for a mont. Sora can handle simple diagnoses and prescribe appropriate dicine. As long as she avoids cases beyond her ability, there won't be any issues.
"No ti like the present," he replies.
The butler nods. "Then let's go. I'll escort you."
rin gathers the docunts and walks out with the butler. But before they reach the door, he pauses. "Wait a few minutes."
Without waiting for a reply, he heads upstairs. Inside his room, he lifts his mattress and carefully hides the house deed and the Cloud Sword Technique beneath it. Only then does he co back down.
Turning to Sora, he says, "Take care of the clinic for a few hours. If you co across a patient you can't diagnose, ask them to return later."
Sora nods. "Yes, sir."
rin steps into the carriage with the butler. As it begins to move, the butler asks, "Which patient have you chosen first?"
rin flips through the list, stopping at the na of a nine-year-old child. "This one."
The butler glances at the na and gives the address to the driver. The carriage rolls forward through the snow-covered street.
rin and the butler arrive at the first patient's house, a modest wooden ho with a snow-covered roof and a faint trail of smoke rising from its chimney.
As they step inside, the boy's mother greets them warmly. It's clear she already knows the butler, perhaps an old acquaintance. She turns to rin with a respectful bow.
"You must be Mr. Matsuda. Thank you for coming," she says, her voice laced with both hope and fatigue.
rin offers a nod. "Lead to the child."
She guides him through the narrow hallway to a quiet room. Inside, a pale boy lies on the bed, absently playing with a wooden toy in his hands. His breath cos in shallow puffs, and there's a light sheen of sweat on his brow despite the cold.
rin observes the child silently. The boy glances up, curiosity flickering in his tired eyes.
According to the case file, the boy is nine years old. His symptoms: persistent weakness, shortness of breath, and an inability to stay active for more than a couple of hours at a ti. The previous doctors diagnosed it as a heart disease, with no cure.
rin steps closer and kneels by the bed, placing two fingers gently on the boy's wrist. He closes his eyes, focusing.
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Thin pulse. Irregular—but stable.
He channels a stream of his inner energy into the boy's body, gently tracing the flow. Within monts, he finds the issue: one of the veins connected to the heart is unnaturally narrow, restricting blood and oxygen flow to the rest of the body. The condition won't kill the child, but it will leave him permanently weak.
To fix this, the vein needs to be widened—but that can't happen naturally. rin knows the only solution: refining a blood-healing potion potent enough to increase the regeneration properties of the boy's blood and gradually restore the damaged vein.
He opens his eyes—and finds the boy staring up at him, eyes wide with hope.
"Elder brother," the boy whispers, "can you heal ? So I can go outside and play?"
rin smiles gently. "Yes. In a week, you'll be running again."
The boy's mother gasps. "Truly? You can heal him?"
rin rises. "Bring him to my clinic at noon today."
After a few more words with the mother, he and the butler return to the carriage. As they climb in, rin says, "Stop at a dical shop. I need ingredients for the potion."
"Yes, sir," the driver replies.
After a mont of silence, the butler turns to him. "You're sure you can heal him? How certain are you?"
rin responds calmly, "I won't promise he'll be like other children. But he'll be better able to live without being trapped in his bed."
The butler nods slowly, thoughtfully.
Later that day, rin stands in his clinic, waiting. On the table beside him are three vials of blood-healing potion, faintly glowing red through the glass. Outside, snow drifts past the windows.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Sora at the front desk, calmly diagnosing a patient. Two more sit on the bench nearby, likely with common ailnts. Sora can handle them.
A carriage pulls up outside the clinic. rin steps toward the door as it opens. A man climbs down first, carefully lifting the boy in his arms. Behind him, the boy's mother steps out. Then, unexpectedly, a fourth person exits the carriage—an elderly man with a white beard, long hair, and a navy blue robe lined in silver.
rin narrows his eyes.
Healer robes...
The boy's mother approaches quickly. "This is my husband—and this is Healer Wang Hai."
Wang Hai steps forward, eyes sharp despite his age. "So, you're the one claiming to heal the incurable." He glances at the boy, then back at rin. "How are you going to treat him?"
rin ets the old man's gaze calmly. " I am going to widen his narrow vein."
Wang Hai studies him in silence." How?"
rin says calmly, "I don't think I need to explain anything to you. My thod is my own."
In this world, healers—like samurai—guard their techniques closely. Healing thods, especially those passed down or self-created, are considered personal secrets. Asking about them is rude, even provocative.
Wang Hai frowns. "I couldn't heal him. And yet a young, unknown healer like you claims you can?"
The Mori family butler, still present, steps in. "Healer Wang Hai, you were also unable to heal our young lady. But Mr. Matsuda succeeded."
Wang Hai waves the words away. "That was a different matter. Your young lady was poisoned. He created a dicine to neutralise it. But Zhu Yan's condition is entirely different."
rin turns toward Zhu Yan's parents. "If you don't trust , you're free to take your child elsewhere."
Zhu Yan's father and mother exchange uncertain glances, both frowning.
Zhu Yan's father finally speaks. "Sir… can you truly heal our child?"
rin nods. "Yes. And even if I fail, his life won't be in danger. I'll take every precaution."
Wang Hai cuts in sharply. "Don't believe him. He's bluffing. Give ti, and I'll find a way to heal the boy."
Zhu Yan's mother steps forward, her eyes tired but resolute. "Healer Wang… It's already been three years. You couldn't find a way. Mr. Matsuda, I entrust my son to you."
rin steps forward and gently lifts Zhu Yan from his father's arms. The boy is fast asleep, breathing shallowly but peacefully. Cradling him carefully, rin walks to the inner room and lays him down on the treatnt bed.
Inside the quiet room, rin sits beside the sleeping boy and takes out a small vial containing a pale green liquid. It's an extract from a rare plant—mildly poisonous, but not lethal. Its effect is unique: it traps the subject's consciousness in a still, dreamless state, cutting off all sensation from the body. No pain, no awareness—only stillness.
He gently administers the dose. Monts later, Zhu Yan's breathing slows, and his body becos completely unresponsive. rin confirms the boy's condition with a touch of inner energy. Perfect. He won't feel what cos next.
From a second pouch, rin retrieves three veils of blood healing potion, carefully refined the night before. He administers each dose one by one, giving enough ti for the healing factor to take effect. Under rin's spiritual sense, the boy's blood begins to change—its regenerative properties enhanced, ready to repair damaged tissue at an accelerated rate.
With deep focus, rin channels his inner energy into the boy's chest and begins the most delicate step—widening the narrow vein near the heart. Slowly, with subtle control, he stretches the walls of the constricted vessel. A mont later, a faint tear forms. But his energy is already surrounding the site, creating a protective field to prevent blood from spilling or pressure from destabilising the flow.
He doesn't stop.
The healing factor kicks in imdiately, the torn tissue beginning to regenerate as fast as it breaks. rin's control remains steady. This is not a brute-force thod—it's precision work. Millitre by millitre, he widens the vein until its diater matches that of the others. Just as the healing potion's effect begins to wear off, he moves on to the final step.
Only a small tear remains. For this, he takes out a small piece of a hundred-year-old ginseng, its rich golden root pulsing faintly with vitality. He grinds it into a liquid form and lets a few drops slip into the boy's mouth. The potent energy surges through the boy's ridians, sealing the final wound and flushing the body with strength.
The boy's pale skin warms. A soft, rosy hue returns to his cheeks.
rin withdraws his inner energy and places two fingers on the wrist. The pulse is steady now, strong, even.
He smiles faintly and takes out a second vial—the antidote to the first poison. He applies a few drops under the boy's tongue. The boy's fingers twitch.
rin stands and walks to the door. As he opens it, Zhu Yan's mother rushes forward.
"How is he?" she asks, voice trembling.
rin ets her eyes calmly. "He's healed."
The mother covers her mouth, tears flowing instantly. Before she and the father can step inside, Wang Hai pushes past them and hurries to the boy's side. He places his fingers on Zhu Yan's wrist.
Monts pass. Then his eyes widen.
"How?" he breathes, barely a whisper.
rin offers no answer. He just turns and walks toward the front of the clinic.
Sora is diagnosing a waiting patient. Two more sit quietly behind, watching rin with wide, amazed eyes. He pulls up a stool beside her.
"Next," he says, and calmly resus his work.
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