Youth, are you alright? Please take a look at the light..." The attending physician had changed, now a man in his fifties, holding a flashlight and preparing to examine Fang Yi's pupils.
"Doctor Wu, I'm fine..." Upon hearing the doctor's voice, Fang Yi, shaking off his shock, nodded and read aloud the surname on the name tag pinned to the doctor's white coat to demonstrate his clarity.
"Well, you seem to be alright. You all can disperse now. And, by the way, smoking is prohibited in the ward..." As Doctor Wu spoke, Fang Yi realized that the ward was not occupied solely by the chubby boy and the doctor; besides Sun Lao's son, Sun Chao, the boss Man was also present.
Perhaps unable to resist his craving, Man Jun had lit a cigarette at the doorway. However, the smell of smoke was quite pungent amidst the sterile scent of disinfectant in the ward. He had barely taken a puff before the doctor caught him.
"Hey, hey, extinguish it, extinguish it..." Man Jun exclaimed, yet he still took a deep drag before reluctantly snuffing out the cigarette, prompting Doctor Wu to shake his head disapprovingly.
"Fang Yi, is it? What kind of practice were you engaged in earlier? I could hardly detect your breathing..."
Ignoring the chubby boy's eager, ingratiating smile, Doctor Wu focused his attention on Fang Yi. Having studied under an old traditional Chinese medicine practitioner in his youth, he possessed some knowledge of medical principles. Fortunately, it was his shift today; had it been a younger doctor, they might have rushed to take the faint-breathing Qin Feng for emergency treatment.
"I wasn't practicing anything special..." A hint of confusion flickered in Fang Yi's eyes as he replied, "I was merely meditating. Oh, right, I was practicing yoga..."
Fang Yi recognized that in this enlightened age, one must adhere to scientific explanations, so he chose to mention a term he had previously heard rather than delve into the complexities of Daoist cultivation.
Interestingly, Fang Yi had indeed learned some yoga from a radio broadcast years ago, but the poses had posed little challenge for him; he could effortlessly perform even the most difficult yoga positions.
"Oh, so it was yoga. No wonder your breathing was so faint..."
Upon hearing Fang Yi's response, Doctor Wu nodded. In recent years, yoga had gained immense popularity in the country, not only featuring a yoga master teaching poses on television by the seaside but also being discussed on the radio.
Just a few days prior, Doctor Wu had come across a news article stating that a seventy-year-old yoga master from India had buried himself underground for a full eight days and emerged completely unscathed.
"Fang Yi, remember to practice yoga under guidance in the future, alright? It can be quite dangerous otherwise..."
Seeing Fang Yi alert and articulate, Doctor Wu imparted a few words of caution before glancing at the others in the ward, saying, "Except for the two who are staying to care for the patient, everyone else should leave now. Visiting hours have ended..."
According to hospital regulations, only one caregiver or family member could remain after ten o'clock at night. Had Fang Yi not been in an unresponsive state, Doctor Wu would have already asked everyone to leave.
"Doctor Wu, we'll be leaving soon. Just a few more words before we go..." Sun Chao, with a smile, slipped a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes into Doctor Wu's coat pocket, whispering, "It's late, Doctor Wu; perhaps a smoke would help you stay alert..."
"Alright, but no more than half an hour. You all need to leave..." As the saying goes, one does not strike a smiling face; Doctor Wu accepted the gesture without hesitation and stepped out of the ward to return to the duty room.
"Xiao Fang, are you alright? You truly scared me..." After Doctor Wu departed, Sun Lianda said apologetically, "I noticed something was off with you, which is why I called the doctor. Xiao Fang, this hasn't affected your practice, has it?"
In fact, when Sun Chao had brought dinner earlier, Sun Lianda had prevented his son from waking Fang Yi. However, after nearly ten hours of Fang Yi maintaining his previous position, Sun Lianda could no longer contain his anxiety and, disregarding the chubby boy and San Pao's objections, called the doctor.
"Yes, Xiao Fang, you haven't gone too deep into your practice, have you?" Sun Chao looked at Fang Yi with concern. Although he was not young, he was an avid martial arts enthusiast, having been captivated by Hong Kong and Taiwan martial arts novels since the 1970s, and his imagination was quite vivid.
"Going too deep? You might be closer to the truth than you think..." Fang Yi chuckled inwardly, raising his head to say, "Sun Lao, Sun Ge, I'm fine. This yoga is merely a means to calm the mind; even if you had awakened me, it wouldn't have mattered..."
In truth, with Fang Yi's current level of cultivation, he had yet to reach the state where one remains unperturbed in the face of a collapsing mountain. Even if he entered a deep state of meditation, excessive noise could still rouse him.
However, Fang Yi's situation was somewhat unique; while traversing the sea of consciousness, he was largely oblivious to external disturbances. Had his spiritual energy not instinctively retreated, his physical body would have been akin to a soulless shell, devoid of any thought.
"That's a relief, that's a relief..." Sun Lao repeatedly expressed, a glimmer of relief crossing his face.
"Xiao Fang, here, I brought you some turtle soup that's still warm. You should drink some..."
Seeing that Fang Yi was unharmed, Sun Chao produced a thermos filled with soup. The two turtles had sufficient weight, and Sun Chao had brought four thermoses in total, as the chubby boy and San Pao had already eaten.
"Thank you, Sun Ge..." For some reason, Fang Yi felt an intense hunger at that moment. Without hesitation, he took the thermos and checked the soup's temperature before gulping it down.
"Is there ginseng in this soup? It seems to be quite aged..."
After consuming over a pound of turtle soup in one go, Fang Yi felt as if every cell in his body were sighing with relief. The warmth from the soup rapidly permeated his being, and he sensed the soreness in his body diminish significantly.
As a practitioner of martial arts, Fang Yi understood the ancient wisdom that those who toil with words are often impoverished, while those who train in martial arts are wealthy in strength. Due to their physical training, martial artists require far more sustenance than the average person, and their digestive capabilities are not to be compared with those of ordinary individuals.
For instance, while an average person might sustain themselves with a bowl of rice for lunch until dinner, a martial artist might consume five bowls of rice at lunch and feel hungry again within just two hours. Thus, for the impoverished in ancient times seeking to practice martial arts, the challenge was far greater than that of passing examinations for scholars.
"Sun Ge, is this food also reserved for me?" As he glanced at the now-cold braised turtle meat and two other dishes on the bedside table, Fang Yi inquired, while his stomach compelled him to bring a plate of food closer.
"It is for you, but it's already cold. Should I go downstairs to heat it up for you?" Sun Chao offered. Due to Fang Yi's situation, they had hardly eaten, and Sun Chao had brought enough food for five or six people, with at least three portions still remaining.
"Sun Ge, eating something cold is perfect for such a hot day..."
As Fang Yi spoke, he had already stuffed several pieces of turtle meat into his mouth, chewing vigorously until the once-tough bones were reduced to mush, mixed with the meat and swallowed.
In a mere three minutes, Fang Yi had devoured all the dishes and most of the rice, and upon finishing the last grain, he cast a reluctant glance at the empty plates.
"Wow, Fang Yi, when did you become such a glutton?"
Almost everyone was left dumbfounded by Fang Yi's voracious appetite. The chubby boy, quick to respond, exclaimed, "This is it; with such a massive appetite, two thousand yuan won't even cover your monthly food expenses! No way, Boss Man, this must be a consequence of Fang Yi's accident; you'll need to compensate him further..."
"Chubby, that's not fair..."
Man Jun, who had stealthily lit another cigarette, found himself amused by the chubby boy's remark, pointing at him and saying, "What a rare statement! You think getting into an accident makes one eat more? If it were me, I'd gladly take that trade. Don't you know that being able to eat is a blessing?"
"Alright, chubby, this isn't Boss Man's fault..." Fang Yi waved his hand dismissively. He understood his own circumstances; if there were any aftereffects, they stemmed from his spiritual energy entering the sea of consciousness, not from Boss Man.
Seeing Man Jun's presence, Fang Yi assumed he was worried about potential repercussions and said, "Boss Man, don't fret; we won't extort you. I'll stay for one more day, and I should be discharged by the day after tomorrow at the latest..."
"That's fine, Xiao Fang. You can stay a few more days; you need not worry about the medical expenses..."
Upon hearing Fang Yi's words, Man Jun realized he had misunderstood and replied, "I came today to discuss that fan painting with Sun Lao. Since you were unresponsive, everyone lost the mood for the transaction, but now that you're awake, it's all good..."
In the afternoon, Man Jun had shown the Tang Bohu fan painting to one of his old clients, who only offered forty-five thousand yuan. Naturally, Man Jun refused to sell, as he intended to leverage his connection with Sun Lianda, who had offered a significantly higher price.
Business is not about personal favors, and Man Jun was quite adept at navigating relationships. While he did not sell the painting to that client, he treated them to a meal. Consequently, he arrived at the hospital a bit late, as Sun Lao and the others were preoccupied with concerns over Fang Yi's condition, and thus the fan transaction had yet to occur.
"I had almost forgotten about that..."
Upon hearing Man Jun's words, Sun Lao turned to him and said, "I'll take that fan painting. Leave me your account details; if you trust me, I can transfer the money to you tomorrow. If not, we can arrange for the exchange tomorrow instead..."
"Sun Lao, you need not worry. Keeping it with you is safer than in a vault..."
Man Jun had intended to strengthen his bond with Sun Lianda through the sale of the fan painting. Not only would Sun Lianda pay him promptly, but Man Jun would also relish the thought of delaying payment for ten or even twenty years.
Sun Lao, let's settle it this way. You should rest early; I'll take my leave now…"
After leaving his bank account details, Man Jun stood up and said to the chubby boy and San Pao, "This ward is too cramped for overnight stays. I see that Fang Yi is fine now, so you two shouldn't linger here any longer. Come along with me…"
"Hmm? Chubby, haven't you found a suitable place?" Fang Yi was aware that the chubby boy and San Pao had gone out to look for accommodation in the afternoon, but from their demeanor, it seemed they had not succeeded.
"There are plenty of rental properties, but they're all too far from Chaotian Palace…" The chubby boy scratched his head and continued, "Boss Man mentioned that there's an empty unit on the third floor of his building. I'll go check it out; if it's suitable, I'll rent it…"
"What do you mean rent? You can just stay there…"
Man Jun waved his hand dismissively. Being a local of Jinling, he owned three or four properties. Due to business reasons, he had been residing in a self-built house near Chaotian Palace, occupying the first two floors for himself while using the third floor as a temporary storage space for collected items.
However, because his child's school was not in the vicinity of Chaotian Palace, Man Jun and his family did not live together. The spacious three-story building was occupied solely by him, and he had long intended to rent out a few rooms but had yet to find suitable tenants.
Man Jun understood that relying solely on that fan painting might not forge a connection with Sun Lao, but he could tell from Fang Yi's meditative state and Sun Lao's anxious demeanor that Sun Lao seemed genuinely concerned for the young man. Thus, he had the intention of fostering a closer relationship with Fang Yi, which led to his invitation for the chubby boy to stay.
"Thank you, Boss Man…" Fang Yi was unaware of Man Jun's motivations, but he sensed no malice and promptly expressed his gratitude.
"We're fated to meet, young brother. No need to call me Boss Man; if you hold me in regard, just call me Brother Man from now on…" Upon hearing Fang Yi's words, Man Jun felt a surge of happiness, realizing that his efforts had not been in vain.
"Sun Lao, Fang Yi, we'll take our leave now…" After exchanging farewells with Sun Lianda and Fang Yi, Man Jun waved his hand and said, "Come, Brother Man will take you two for a late-night snack, and beer is on me…"
"Xiao Chao, you should head back too…" After Man Jun and the others departed, Sun Lao turned to his son and instructed, "Tomorrow, transfer sixty-five thousand to this account. Also, take that fan painting back; with so many people in the hospital, it could easily get lost…"
Given Sun Lao's status, he would not stoop to incurring a favor from Man Jun over a mere one or two thousand yuan, so he insisted that his son pay the agreed price.
"Understood, Dad. Are you sure we don't need to leave anyone here?" Sun Chao nodded, preparing to replace the current caregiver with someone more responsible, as the one they had hired was utterly unreliable, not showing up during the day and even absent at night.
"No need; I can manage a few steps with my cane, and besides, there's Fang Yi here to assist me," Sun Lao replied with a smile, gesturing for his son to leave.
"Fang Yi, I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on my father…" Sun Chao looked at Fang Yi earnestly.
"Brother Sun, you can rest assured…" Fang Yi nodded, rising from the bed and saying, "I'm fine now. If Sun Lao needs to go to the restroom or anything, I can help him…"
The turtle soup he had consumed earlier seemed to have replenished his body significantly. Although he still felt some soreness, it no longer hindered his mobility. Fang Yi believed he would be ready for discharge by the following day.
"Fang Yi, what you practiced earlier wasn't yoga, was it?"
Once Sun Chao left, the once-bustling ward fell silent. Sun Lianda regarded Fang Yi with a knowing smile and said, "I practiced Daoist health cultivation for a few days myself. It seemed to me that you were practicing the Daoist breathing techniques. Am I right?"
Though Buddhism is more prevalent in the country now, there exists a Daoist holy site not far from Jinling—Mount Mao. Sun Lianda had been confined in a cow shed at the foot of Mount Mao in his youth, where he met many Daoists and learned some related knowledge.
"Sun Lao has a keen eye. Indeed, I was practicing the Daoist breathing techniques, but due to the limitations of my teachings, it's not something I can share with outsiders…"
Fang Yi smiled apologetically. The method of circulating energy through the body is a closely guarded secret within Daoism, and the old Daoist had specifically instructed him never to disclose these techniques unless he were to take on disciples in the future.
"Oh, I see. I apologize for my presumptions…"
Sun Lianda understood Fang Yi's words well. Being an old-fashioned man himself, he recognized that many professions have their own taboos. Not only in cultivation practices but even in folk skills, there are often rules about passing knowledge to sons but not to daughters.
"Fang Yi, judging by your demeanor, you'll be discharged tomorrow?"
Noticing that Fang Yi was walking around the ward instead of lying back down, Sun Lao couldn't help but feel the weight of age. Fang Yi had been struck by a vehicle yet recovered so swiftly, while he himself had merely fallen and had been bedridden for over ten days.
"Yes, I'll be discharged tomorrow…"
Fang Yi moved about, realizing he had no serious injuries. He then said, "To be honest, I came down the mountain to seek a living. None of us brothers have much money; we really need to find something to do to earn our daily bread…"
Fang Yi spoke candidly. Having grown up in the mountains, he did not share the chubby boy's apprehension or slight inferiority complex when facing city dwellers. To him, there was little difference between city folk and country folk; it was merely a matter of different environments.
"Indeed, survival before development. Fang Yi, your perspective is wise…" Sun Lianda nodded in agreement, contemplating for a while before saying, "Tomorrow, I'll leave you an address. If you ever need assistance in the future, don't hesitate to seek me out…"
Although he had not known Fang Yi for long, Sun Lianda took a liking to him and even entertained the thought of taking him on as a disciple. However, being a composed individual, he refrained from voicing it outright, preferring to observe Fang Yi a bit longer.
"Thank you, Sun Lao. I will certainly seek your guidance whenever I encounter difficulties…" Fang Yi sincerely respected this erudite elder and did not overthink his words.
"Alright, let's turn off the lights and rest. Otherwise, the doctor might come around again…" Satisfied with Fang Yi's response, Sun Lianda felt that while there are many who recognize talent, finding a true gem is not so easy. Taking on a gifted disciple is no simple matter.
Returning to his bed, Fang Yi did not lie down but instead resumed his meditation.
In Daoist philosophy, sleep serves to allow the body's functions to rest and recover from daily fatigue, while the practice of meditation is believed to be even more beneficial. Since the age of seven or eight, Fang Yi had rarely lain down to sleep; he spent most of his time in meditation.
Early the next morning, while it was still dimly lit, Fang Yi opened his eyes after meditating for four or five hours. He quietly got out of bed and left the ward, descending to the floor below where he stayed.
Gently twisting his neck and stretching his body, he heard a series of crisp sounds emanating from his limbs. After performing a preparatory stance, he leisurely began to practice his boxing.
Unlike others, Fang Yi's boxing style lacked the vigorous power of external martial arts or the visual appeal of Tai Chi. It resembled the stance of "Grasping the Sparrow's Tail," moving back and forth in a fluid manner.
However, anyone observing closely would notice that as Fang Yi practiced, an aura surrounded him, causing the fallen leaves at his feet to rise without any wind, forming a circular pattern around him.
After practicing for over half an hour, Fang Yi concluded his session, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.
The techniques he had just practiced were also the old Daoist's closely guarded secrets. Although Fang Yi's seemingly soft and gentle movements appeared devoid of strength, anyone caught in his embrace would find their tendons and bones easily broken.
Noticing that more people were beginning to gather around, Fang Yi returned to the ward. Since he had gone to bed late the previous night, Sun Lao had yet to awaken. After filling the thermos with water, Sun Lianda finally stirred.
Just past six o'clock, the duty doctor arrived in the ward. After checking Fang Yi's blood pressure and conducting some simple tests, Fang Yi inquired, "So, doctor, how is it? Is everything alright? Can I be discharged?"
Fang Yi had rarely fallen ill throughout his life. Even when he caught a cold, a simple concoction brewed by the old Daoist would suffice to remedy it. He had never been hospitalized before and found the smell of disinfectant quite uncomfortable.
"Everything appears to be fine, but I recommend you stay for another day or two for observation…"
The duty doctor flipped through Fang Yi's medical records, his expression filled with confusion. According to the records, Fang Yi had entered the hospital in a state of unconsciousness with muscle damage, and yet here he was, less than twenty-four hours later, looking so vibrant and full of life.
"Indeed, Fang Yi, I don't think you need to rush your discharge…" Whether it was the absence of a companion to chat with or a desire to spend more time with Fang Yi, Sun Lianda seemed somewhat reluctant to see the young man leave so soon.
"Sun Lao, really, I'm perfectly fine…" Fang Yi performed a few chest-opening exercises and strolled around the ward.
"Hmm, judging by your complexion, you seem to be alright…"
The old duty doctor had some knowledge of traditional Chinese medicine. Yesterday, Fang Yi's lips had appeared pale, but after a night's rest, they had regained their rosy hue. As the saying goes, the face reflects the heart; harmony in qi and blood, and peace in the organs, will all manifest in one's complexion.
"Let's do this: you have some external injuries on your chest. I'll prescribe some anti-inflammatory medication for you. After you collect the medicine, by eight-thirty, you can proceed with the discharge procedures…" The old doctor consented to Fang Yi's discharge, recognizing that aside from the minor chest injury, he was otherwise in good health.
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