A Divine Farmer

Chapter 294 - The Acupuncture Technique Could Not be Passed down Lightly

Acupuncture is one of the ancient healing methods of traditional Chinese medicine, and it shares common origins with the secret medical skills passed down to Zhang Xiaolong. Indeed, the legacy that Zhang Xiaolong received is considered to be one of the oldest. Moreover, traditional Chinese medicine follows the same principles, whether it involves acupuncture or herbal remedies.

Zhang Xiaolong hadn't completely lost his memories of the Acupuncture Technique; rather, for some reason, they were not entirely clear to him. Yet, when he matched these fragmented recollections with the Acupuncture Technique inherited by the Wang family over generations, he quickly realized they were fundamentally aligned.

This realization allowed him to extrapolate a more refined version of the Acupuncture Technique from the incomplete one he remembered.

Zhang Xiaolong even identified subtle inaccuracies within the Wang family's Acupuncture Technique. These discrepancies might seem trivial during routine treatments, but in critical moments, such small errors could mean the difference between life and death.

Convinced by his deductions, Zhang Xiaolong was certain that with additional knowledge about the Wang family's Acupuncture Technique, he could fully reconstruct this ancient method.

Upon entering the room, Zhang Xiaolong assessed Wang Zhengyi's condition, which was just as dire as Wang Cheng had described: he was in a deep coma, and the outlook was grim.

Zhang Xiaolong inhaled deeply and retrieved silver needles from his needle bag. This was his first time administering acupuncture to someone else, and the technique was particularly complex. To claim he felt no pressure would be dishonest.

Though he had cultivated the Dragon Controlling True Spell, granting him control over his strength far beyond that of any doctor, acupuncture was not solely about force. Many of its nuanced and esoteric aspects could only be gleaned through experience: an opportunity Zhang Xiaolong had yet to have. Nevertheless, he steeled himself and proceeded.

As soon as he began, Zhang Xiaolong's exceptional skill was evident. The silver needles glided into place without any resistance, each one striking its intended target with pinpoint accuracy.

Wang Cheng, observing from the side, couldn't see the internal effects, but he was thoroughly impressed by Zhang Xiaolong's fluid and precise needlework.

Just observing the speed and fluidity of the acupuncture, not to mention the precision with which the needles were placed, it was clear that he was outclassed. Even if the elderly gentleman on the bed were to rise, he'd have to concede defeat.

Reflecting on Zhang Xiaolong's earlier claim of not knowing acupuncture, it seemed nearly impossible. But then, considering the bizarre incident where even the spiritual energy of a large tree was absorbed by this man, what could be deemed impossible?

Upon closer inspection, Wang Cheng noticed that each time Xiaolong's needle pierced the skin, it appeared to carry a subtle force. This energy was like a very fine breath of air, or perhaps it was simply a pure strand of power. This sensation was familiar to him because of his expertise in acupuncture. To anyone else, the difference from ordinary acupuncture would be indiscernible.

Undoubtedly, Xiaolong had channeled divine power into the silver needles. By using the needles as conduits, he was able to inject this divine force directly into the acupuncture points, enhancing precision and efficacy far beyond the mere application of divine power alone.

“Uh…”

Before Wang Cheng could pose his question, the individual on the bed stirred, emitting a sound as if awakening from a deep sleep.

“Dad, you're awake!” Wang Cheng exclaimed, elated.

“Who let you in?” Despite the weakness in Wang Zhengyi's voice, his tone carried a clear note of rebuke. “I've told you, if I ever lost consciousness, you were to burn down this house immediately. I brought this calamity upon us; I cannot allow our fellow villagers to suffer for my actions!”

“Dad, Ebola is already widespread. People are dying every day. Burning you would accomplish nothing,” Wang Cheng said, knowing full well the harshness of his words, yet unable to hold them back.

Wang Zhengyi looked deeply pained as he closed his eyes, “I, Wang Zhengyi, have failed. I've brought neither glory to our ancestors nor anything but disaster to our people. I am a sinner.”

“Don't be too hard on yourself, Dr. Wang,” Zhang Xiaolong interjected, sensing that the spread of the Ebola Virus was somehow connected to him. Yet, he trusted that Wang Zhengyi was not one to intentionally cause harm and chose not to delve deeper. “Right now, our priority is to find a method to halt the virus's spread. Dr. Wang, having contracted Ebola yourself, you're akin to Shennong, who once bravely tested poisons. Surely, you have a profound insight into this virus. Might you know of any effective treatments we could try?”

Zhang Xiaolong was acutely aware of the devastating impact of Ebola. He knew that no one could confidently claim that a certain medication would provide a cure; the only option was to explore potential treatments.

“Who is this?” Wang Zhengyi asked upon noticing Zhang Xiaolong. Despite his weakness, he quickly turned to his son, Wang Cheng, with urgency.

“This is Zhang Xiaolong. He appears to be another physician,” Wang Cheng admitted, somewhat sheepishly. “Given the urgency of the situation, I showed him our family's Acupuncture Technique without your consent. Mr. Zhang only needed one glance before applying the technique and reviving you. Otherwise…”

“Oh?” Wang Zhengyi, who had dedicated his life to traditional Chinese medicine and especially to the Acupuncture Technique—a prized skill of the Wang family—understood the complexity involved. To hear his son claim that someone had mastered the Wang family's Acupuncture Technique in a single viewing was astonishing; a sign of true prodigious talent.

“Mr. Zhang also seems to be versed in Qi Gong. He's the one who completely cured me of Ebola,” Wang Zhengyi added. “Moreover, he suggested that our family's Acupuncture Technique might be incomplete. Using the technique I shared with him, he extrapolated and perfected it, achieving success.”

Wang Zhengyi's eyes sparkled with excitement. “Impressive. Many people admire the Wang family's Acupuncture Technique, yet they're unaware of how much has been lost over time. With my current skills, I fear I've grasped less than a third of it, and even within that fraction, there are numerous inaccuracies. I never imagined…”

“Dr. Wang, I've previously mentioned this to Mr. Wang, and I hope you won't be offended,” Zhang Xiaolong interjected. “Ebola is relentless. While the Wang family's Acupuncture Technique may not be a definitive cure, it can significantly manage the symptoms in Ebola patients, buying us time to research a proper antidote. Initially, my intention was to seek your direct intervention, but now, I hope you can set aside any reservations and entrust me with the full scope of the Acupuncture Technique. I propose to administer the acupuncture to the patients myself. What are your thoughts?”

Wang Zhengyi let out a deep sigh. “The Acupuncture Technique of the Wang family isn't withheld from outsiders; rather, it's passed down internally. This is because the technique has the power to both save and harm. Hence, our ancestors preferred to risk the gradual loss of this art rather than entrust it to individuals of questionable character. Consequently, today's descendants of the Wang family find themselves unable to even defend themselves in times of great peril. If I continue to stubbornly guard this technique, then I am truly being obstinate.”