Chapter 15: One Who Cannot Die

Han Yingying hurriedly explained, for the person before her was, after all, the head of the Han family, its pillar and support, and no one dared to take risks lightly.

“Yingying, even if he can save you, it doesn’t mean he can save your grandfather. Every field has its own expert, and you can’t just grasp at straws in desperation, especially not with a charlatan like him,” Chu Jiang immediately mocked.

Surprisingly, those around them actually believed Chu Jiang’s words, all casting wary glances at Qin Yu.

“What if I manage to cure him?” Qin Yu asked calmly, his gaze fixed on Chu Jiang.

“If you cure him, I’ll kneel and beg your forgiveness. But what if you fail?” Chu Jiang replied.

At this, Qin Yu said at once, “If I fail, a life for a life—how about that?”

“Deal,” Chu Jiang agreed.

Without another word, Qin Yu walked up to Han Qi, flicked out seven silver needles, the final one landing on the philtrum.

With a gasp, Han Qi’s eyes flew open, and he began to gulp down air in great, heaving breaths.

Seeing this, Qin Yu turned his gaze to Chu Jiang.

Chu Jiang flushed, spun on his heel, and dashed out.

“Chu Jiang, I’ll be coming to the Chu family to collect your debt!” Qin Yu called after him.

Once Chu Jiang was gone, Qin Yu helped Han Qi sit up, but the moment his hand made contact, Qin Yu’s eyes widened in shock.

Noticing the change in Qin Yu’s expression, Han Yingying looked at him in confusion.

Qin Yu drew Han Yingying aside and spoke in a low voice, “Upon examination, I believe your grandfather suffered an intracranial hemorrhage, probably from a fall when he collapsed. At first, he must have felt drowsy, but if he had gone to sleep, he would never have woken up.”

A fall leading to such severe bleeding? No one would believe it so easily, and Han Yingying was no exception.

“Impossible. My grandfather seemed perfectly normal,” she protested.

Qin Yu knew she wouldn’t believe him, so he said nothing further. After all, if someone refuses to believe, there’s nothing more to be done.

Late into the night, the banquet dispersed.

Qin Yu left the hotel, but instead of returning, he made his way straight to the Li family’s shop.

“Since you’ve made a move against me, don’t blame me for retaliating,” he murmured.

With those words, he set to work in the deserted shop.

In the early hours before dawn, a sudden blaze reduced the Li family’s shop to ashes. Qin Yu had covered his tracks flawlessly, certain no one would trace it back to him.

But to his surprise, the Li family did uncover the truth, aided by investigators from the Willow Leaf organization.

Once the evidence pointed to Qin Yu, Li Wangba was furious and swore he would teach Qin Yu a lesson.

But the Willow Leaf had already dispatched two assassins who had disappeared without a trace; now, with their own killers missing and Qin Yu still at large, the conclusion was clear—the assassination had failed, and their operatives were likely lost as well.

Having suffered losses, the Willow Leaf decided to cease their pursuit of Qin Yu for the time being, and refused any further commissions from the Li family.

Learning this, Li Wangba was angry but helpless. After searching in vain for another solution, he finally set his sights on someone else.

Qin Yu returned to the hotel, where he found Jin Ming and Mu Yu keeping vigil outside Qin Mianmian’s room.

“Why aren’t you resting? Aren’t there Sun family bodyguards here?” he asked.

“We’re still uneasy,” they replied.

Qin Yu smiled and nodded, quietly opened Qin Mianmian’s door, and, seeing her sleeping soundly, left with a faint smile.

Before he could return to his own room, Master Liu hurriedly approached him.

“Mr. Qin, I need your help—it’s a desperate case,” he pleaded.

Upon learning the details, Qin Yu understood: a patient at the Haishi People’s Hospital was bleeding uncontrollably. Even silver needles couldn’t staunch the flow, and the blood loss was so rapid that the hospital’s supplies were nearly exhausted.

Master Liu dragged Qin Yu straight to the operating room.

The doctors inside were surprised to see Master Liu bringing in an outsider.

An older doctor frowned and scolded, “Master Liu, this is an operating room—how can outsiders be brought in at will?”

“Dr. Tian, this man’s medical skills surpass my own. He may have a solution—saving the patient must come first.”

“Oh?” Dr. Tian looked Qin Yu up and down, curiosity in his eyes. “Do you have a medical license, sir?”

“No,” Qin Yu replied, shaking his head. He didn’t have one—in fact, he had no idea what it even was.

At this, the surrounding doctors frowned in disapproval.

No medical license? Wasn’t that just a barefoot doctor? And such a person was allowed into this most sacred of places, the operating room?

“Utter nonsense! No license, and yet Master Liu, you bring in someone from the street and claim he can cure what we cannot? Is this some kind of joke?” Dr. Tian’s anger was plain.

Qin Yu ignored him, moved to the patient’s side, and felt for the pulse. “Leukemia,” he said quickly. “It’s only natural the bleeding won’t stop. Besides, the illness has clearly been present for some time—otherwise even silver needles would have worked.”

Everyone fell silent, for Qin Yu’s assessment was spot on.

Dr. Tian, still unconvinced, muttered, “Any fool can spot the symptoms of leukemia. Maybe it’s just dumb luck.”

Qin Yu smiled, wrote out a prescription, and handed it to Master Liu. “Get these herbs, make a thick paste, and bring it to me.”

Soon, Master Liu returned with a pile of black, sticky medicine.

“This stuff is supposed to stop bleeding? Are you serious?” Dr. Tian protested.

“Be quiet—just watch,” Qin Yu ordered, applying the paste directly to the patient’s wound.

Chastened, Dr. Tian really did fall silent, watching intently.

Under everyone’s gaze, the bleeding stopped.

Qin Yu pulled out his silver needles, reinforced the hemostasis, and said calmly, “It’s done. Now you can start the operation. My job is finished.”

The doctors exchanged quick glances and hurried to begin.

Master Liu escorted Qin Yu out of the operating room, beaming. “We owe you so much, sir—if not for you, this patient would never have survived the surgery today.”

“It was nothing, just a small favor. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going,” said Qin Yu, turning to leave the hospital.

Just then, an ambulance pulled up at the entrance, unloading a new patient.

A nurse, pushing the gurney, called out, “Patient Liu Yusheng—stab wound to the lung, breathing ceased.”

“Prepare the defibrillator!”

At the sound of that name, Qin Yu froze. Liu Yusheng—this was the Liu family steward, the last elder of the Qin family.

Qin Yu hurried after them.

Inside the operating room, three shocks from the defibrillator produced no response from Liu Yusheng.

The doctors gave up hope.

“It’s no use, we should pronounce him dead,” one sighed regretfully.

“I haven’t spoken yet. Who dares say he can’t be saved? No one from the Qin family is allowed to die on my watch.”