Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation

Glancing left and right, Jin Shu kept scanning the street. Even after reaching the medical hall's doors, he never caught another glimpse of the veiled woman. Not that it would've helped—if she had removed her veil, she'd be indistinguishable from the sea of disciples in identical robes.

The only things separating them were the badges on their collars, which marked them as outer, inner, or core disciples. Most of the ones walking the streets were outer and inner sect members, with only the occasional core disciple mixed in.

He tried to recall what badge the veiled woman had worn—if any. But he hadn't gotten a clear look, and now that he thought about it, she might not have had one at all.

Damn it, Tian Li.

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the time she had suggested wearing women's clothing to hide his identity. Yet looking around now, it was obvious: all they had needed were plain disciple robes and a covered face. That alone would've been enough to blend in.

He hadn't realized at the time, too preoccupied with the aftermath of her qi outburst. If he had, he might've confronted her right then and there. But it was too late now. What was done was done.

Shaking his head, Jin Shu stepped inside the medical hall.

The first thing that hit him was the smell—sharp, bitter, and unmistakably herbal. It reminded him of Bin Yu's pill shop, only more intense and without the smoke from burning herbs into pills. Just raw, overwhelming medicine.

The second thing he noticed was the movement. Healers bustled between open rooms, busy with tasks or huddled in quiet discussion. In the center of the hall stood a large, semi-circular desk staffed by half a dozen girls, all wearing the same disciple robes.

Jin Shu made his way toward them.

"Hello, what can I help you with, miss?" one of the receptionists asked as he approached.

She looked young—an outer sect disciple, if her badge was any indication.

"I'd like to see Nurse Xi Yue," he said, adjusting his vocal cords to disguise his voice.

"Nurse Joy… are you sure?" she asked, raising a brow as though he'd grown a second head.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

She quickly shook her head, her hair whipping like a storm.

"No, no… it's just… most disciples try to avoid her. You're the first to actively seek her out…"

"I see," he nodded.

It made sense—Nurse Xi Yue was notoriously difficult to get along with. As far as he knew, his mother was the only one who had ever gotten her to show any real emotion. And even then… that only happened when they were together, apparently.

"Anyway, head to the back of the hall—to the staircase. You'll find her on the second floor. The door's at the end of the far hallway," the receptionist said, pointing the way.

He thanked her with a wave and followed her directions, climbing the stairs and walking the length of the quiet hallway. When he reached the door, he raised his hand to knock.

"Come in," Xi Yue's voice called from inside, before he touched the door.

He paused, hand still half-raised. Had she heard him walking down the hallway? Or sensed his presence some other way? Either way, he let the thought go and opened the door, refocusing on the reason he came: getting help with his… very broken internal situation.

Right now, he could barely access more than the faintest trace of qi. It had taken nearly all his effort just to alter his vocal cords to disguise his voice, and even that had required him to experiment with his body the entire walk from the alley to the hall.

"Jin Shu, what can I help you with?" Xi Yue asked before he even stepped fully into the room.

"Uh…"

He blinked, looking around. White walls. A painting depicting a medical diagram of the human body. Another—less expected—painting that appeared to focus on a woman's posterior. Shelves and counters lined with medical tools filled the far side of the room.

At the center sat Xi Yue, poised behind a desk, watching him.

"I… I need your help," he said, once his brain caught up.

"Yes, I gathered that," she replied dryly, gesturing for him to come closer. "What exactly do you need help with?"

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"Uh… how do I even explain this…" he muttered, then decided to just lay it all out. "So, I died earlier. And when I came back to life, Nano—you know, the little… uh… creature that used to live in my dantian—merged with my qi and blood. Now I don't have a core anymore, and when I try to move qi, my blood moves with it."

Xi Yue stared at him in silence. Then she stood up, walked around the desk, and grabbed his head with both hands, turning it this way and that.

"What… are you doing?" he asked, confused but letting her proceed. It could be some sort of obscure diagnostic technique.

"Checking for a head injury," she said matter-of-factly, peering at him closely.

"Oh. Can that affect my qi?"

"No," she replied, stepping back. "But it would explain the hallucinations."

"Hallucinations? I'm not—wait, no, I'm telling the truth!"

"Uh-huh. Sure you are," she nodded slowly, the way one might when humoring a delirious patient.

Jin Shu opened his mouth to continue retorting, but she waved a hand, cutting him off and motioning to a bed in the corner.

"I'll humor you. Let me examine your dantian," she said, then muttered under her breath, "and your brain."

He followed behind her and took a seat on the edge of the bed while she settled into a tall chair facing him.

"Circulate your qi through your body," she instructed, grabbing his wrist and placing two fingers over his pulse.

Obeying, he began the process as if he still had a core. He drew on the qi that should have rested in his dantian and attempted to circulate it. At first, it seemed to work—until his blood rushed through his veins, chasing the qi's path—that was when everything went wrong. His face turned pale as the flow spiraled out of control, his blood surging unnaturally, pooling toward one place.

"Stop," Xi Yue ordered sharply, moving her hand from his wrist to press lightly just below his navel, over the lower dantian. "Hmm…"

Without further comment, she pushed him back until he was lying down on the bed, then began running her hands methodically across his torso. Her qi seeped past his clothes and into his pores, flowing through his blood vessels and meridians with practiced ease.

"Interesting… very interesting," she murmured, gently prodding different pressure points.

Jin Shu tensed, resisting the urge to squirm. He'd never liked doctors. Being touched like this made his skin crawl—but if it meant solving the mystery of what had happened to him, he could endure it.

"Did you find something?" he asked, watching her as she withdrew her hands and tapped her chin, lost in thought. "You believe me now, right? I'm not crazy."

She didn't answer. Still mumbling to herself, she moved to a nearby shelf cluttered with various medical instruments.

He caught a few stray words: "Living blood… dissection? …no, Mei'er would kill me…"

She better not try to dissect me.

He tensed, ready to flee. Even if activating a ripple now risked qi poisoning, it was better than ending up splayed open like some scientific curiosity.

Thankfully, when she returned, her hands were free of blades—though the strange tools she carried didn't inspire much confidence either.

Setting the items on a small table beside the bed, she picked up what looked like a small black-jade marble and a flat white-jade plate.

"Swallow this," she said, handing him the marble.

He turned it over in his hand. It had looked small in hers, but now, held between his fingers with the knowledge it was meant for swallowing, it seemed enormous. At least the size of a plum.

"Swallow… this? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now, please." She waved him on, visibly impatient.

"Do you have something smaller?"

"Should I force it down?"

"No, no! I'll swallow," he said quickly.

He pressed the marble to his lips, hesitated, then awkwardly worked it past his teeth. It nearly lodged in his throat, and he gagged, but somehow—miraculously—he managed to swallow it whole.

Glancing back at her, he was about to ask What now? but froze mid-breath when she handed him a second marble.

"Swallow," she ordered.

He gulped, nearly regurgitating the first one.

"Is this safe?"

She didn't respond. Instead, a scalpel appeared in her hand with a casual flick of the wrist.

He wanted to weep, but had no tears left. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the second marble and forced it down his throat—all while glaring at her with the defiance of a man who had already lost. Not that it meant anything, considering he was still following her orders like a lovesick puppy.