Chapter Twenty: The Master of Medicine (Please add to your favorites, vote, and click!)

As soon as Hu Mo spoke, his words were like a stone dropping into a lake, sending out a thousand ripples. Huang Sheng’s mouth hung wide open, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth and a breath so foul that it nearly knocked Hu Mo out cold.

“Damn it! Close your mouth! If I said you smelled like a fox before, this is a whole new level—your breath is lethal!” Hu Mo scolded loudly, his irritation soaring so high it nearly blew his hat off.

Huang Sheng obediently shut his mouth, mumbling incoherently with his lips pressed together, as if speaking in some Martian tongue. Du Zhong and Lin Meng both crowded closer, pinching their noses and grinning lewdly, staring at Hu Mo as if he were a naked beauty, making him feel on the verge of losing his mind.

At first, they were just there for the entertainment, expecting to see a joke. Yet every movement of Hu Mo’s was so proper and precise—sometimes frowning, sometimes chanting softly, sometimes closing his eyes in deep thought, sometimes shaking his head. The full performance was all there! Meanwhile, Huang Sheng kept moaning, though no one knew what he was saying.

“All right, enough of your whining. You must be wondering why I know medicine. What’s so strange about that? I’m a genius, after all! I’ve even spent a few days reading at home and picked up a thing or two. Is that so hard to believe?” Hu Mo snorted coldly, wiping his hands disdainfully on Huang Sheng’s filthy clothes, only to feel even more revolted and quickly disinfected his hands with wine from the table.

Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to pour out everything he had bottled up inside—it was suffocating to keep it in. In his former sect, dedicated only to dark arts, his genius was buried; he had no wish to hide his talents in this world as well.

In fact, his medical skills were already close to those of a master healer. In his past life, born into a sect obsessed with forbidden techniques, he’d never had the opportunity to practice medicine, which had long frustrated him. Now, with a patient right before him, how could he not be excited?

“Master Hu, you can’t be serious. A few days reading at home and you’re already this good? I don’t buy it—not at all!” Du Zhong shook his head, looking as if he’d never believe it, not even if his life depended on it.

Hu Mo’s temper flared at the skepticism. Without answering about Huang Sheng’s condition, he suddenly seized Du Zhong’s wrist and took his pulse. After a moment, he chuckled, “Young Master Du, your kidneys are weak, your organs exhausted. If I’m not mistaken, without a powerful tonic, you probably can’t even get it up.”

He shot a wicked grin at Du Zhong, his gaze dropping meaningfully, and shook his head. “Alas, your little yang will never become great again.”

His words struck like thunder out of a clear sky! Du Zhong and Lin Meng stared at him as if he were an alien: astonished, confused, awestruck, embarrassed—their expressions were a sight to behold.

“My brother! My dear brother!” Du Zhong suddenly dropped to his knees, wailing so miserably it sounded like a chorus of wronged spirits or a herd of sows being slaughtered. “My brother, you’re a living divine doctor! You’re absolutely right—my life has been pure suffering! Those demonesses at Fragrant Courtyard have wrung me dry. Master Hu, please, show mercy and save me from this torment!”

His cries drew curious glances from passersby, who muttered, “Disgraceful young men these days, shouting about such matters between men. The world’s truly going downhill...”

Hu Mo nearly slapped him away; the performance was enough to make anyone nauseous. Still, it was understandable—anyone exposed so directly in their sorest spot would react the same, especially with Hu Mo’s solemn demeanor. To Du Zhong, he was nothing short of a miracle doctor.

“All right, get up! I can’t handle this much gratitude,” Hu Mo grumbled. Stroking his chin and frowning, he said, “Your problem isn’t too serious. There are two ways to treat it—one quick but superficial, the other slow but thorough. Which do you prefer?”

Toward Du Zhong and the others, Hu Mo didn’t bother hiding anything. Not just Du Zhong, but judging by Lin Meng’s expression, he was troubled by the same issue.

Though they were just his troublesome friends, their tears after his accident were genuine, which moved Hu Mo deeply. That was why he wanted to show them what he could do. Judging by both Du Zhong and Lin Meng’s conditions, if left untreated, they’d be doomed to early graves—he couldn’t bear to stand by and watch that happen.

After a moment’s thought, Du Zhong said sincerely, “I’ll do as you say, Master Hu. If you heal me, I’ll serve you loyally from now on…”

“And me! Don’t forget about me!” Lin Meng cut in anxiously. Though embarrassed, for the sake of his future happiness, he threw caution to the wind. “Master Hu, my family has had only one son per generation for five generations. Please, you must help me too!”

In a flash, Hu Mo transformed into a miracle healer—one specializing in treating impotence and premature ejaculation, no less, which even he found rather absurd.

“All right, enough. We’re brothers—no need to stand on ceremony. Let me explain: the first method is quick and shows immediate results, but it’s risky and might have side effects.”

He sipped some tea, waving his hand with an air of immortal grace. “That means cutting it off and replacing it with a bigger one—say, from a donkey or a horse. That would be instant results!”

“What?!” The three of them were dumbstruck.

“What do you mean, what? I told you it only addresses the symptoms. It’s been done before. Sure, it’s fast and solves the immediate problem, but in a few decades, the replacement will be useless, and no amount of tonics will help,” Hu Mo said with utmost seriousness.

“Then what should we do? Obviously, the best way is to treat the root cause, and your first method is terrifying.” Huang Sheng grew anxious for Du Zhong and Lin Meng. His own problem, due to the odor, hadn’t affected him much in that area, but he was genuinely worried about them—at this rate, they wouldn’t live long.

Du Zhong and Lin Meng looked at Hu Mo with pleading eyes, waiting for his words of salvation.

Hu Mo smiled faintly. “Of course I know that, which is why I don’t recommend the first method. Your condition has built up over years, so it’ll take time to heal. The medical books I’ve read contain miraculous formulas. I’ll write a prescription for you; follow it and take the herbs for a while…”

“No more waiting—give it to us now! Someone, bring writing tools!” Du Zhong shouted toward the door. Soon, a few young maids brought in ink and brushes, faces pinched as they hurried out, holding their noses.

Huang Sheng’s face flushed with embarrassment; he lowered his head, looking utterly dejected.

Seeing Huang Sheng’s expression, Hu Mo felt a pang of sympathy. Swiftly, he wrote out several dozen medicinal ingredients and handed the prescription to Du Zhong.

Du Zhong and Lin Meng were nearly in tears, accepting the prescription with both hands and sending someone to fetch the herbs at once.

“Du Zhong, Lin Meng, remember: you must take the medicine for three full months. No alcohol, no sex during this period. Otherwise, you might as well go serve the emperor in the palace. I’m not exaggerating—try it if you don’t believe me!” Hu Mo’s face turned stern, his smile cruel enough to make their hearts skip a beat. They chuckled nervously, promising to behave.

“Master Hu, what about me? Is there hope for my illness?” Huang Sheng asked pitifully, his eyes full of hope.

Hu Mo’s smile faded, and his brow creased slightly. If it were just body odor, acupuncture at the Jiquan and Tianying points beneath the armpit, combined with internal and external medicine, would cure it entirely. But Huang Sheng’s pulse was strange—it wasn’t so simple.

“Huang Sheng, your case is unusual. Body odor is often inherited, passed down from parents as foul air accumulates under the arms, or perhaps caused by overeating spicy, oily food, leading to internal damp heat. It could also be from thick clothing in hot weather, poor hygiene, and sweat not dispersing, resulting in foulness seeping through the skin.”

“Master Hu, it must be the first reason. I’ve spent a long time trying to cure it, paid attention to my diet and hygiene, but the stench just gets worse. I couldn’t smell it before, but now even I can’t stand it. Master Hu, I’m truly at my wits’ end,” Huang Sheng cried, tears streaming down his face and making his odor even more unbearable. Even Hu Mo was forced to hold his breath, his face turning red.

“Calm down, I’m not finished. If it really is the first reason, I’m more than ninety percent sure I can cure you. But your pulse suggests it’s not so simple,” Hu Mo said seriously. He didn’t want to hide anything from his friend.

“What do you mean, Master Hu? Is there another reason?” Du Zhong asked worriedly. They were all concerned for Huang Sheng. As the Four Declining Youths of Tianhuo, they were close companions, but Huang Sheng’s growing stench meant they rarely gathered anymore. They fondly remembered the days of visiting brothels together, but now even meeting was a luxury.

“There is another reason. According to your pulse, Huang Sheng, you’ve been poisoned.”

“Poisoned? Impossible!” The three shouted at once, jaws dropping.

“How is it impossible? Do you doubt the diagnosis of a divine doctor?” Hu Mo struck a pose of ethereal disdain, looking down on them.

“We believe you! Of course we do!” The three nodded vigorously, like bobbleheads.

“But what kind of poison? It must be powerful—it’s plagued me for over ten years!” Huang Sheng was completely bewildered, his mind a jumble.

“I don’t know yet, but I’m certain you were targeted. Whoever did this to you was ruthless. If I’m right, you were poisoned at five or six years old, and they’ve been adding to it ever since, which is why your body odor has only gotten worse. What I can’t figure out is, who would do such a thing to a child?”

Huang Sheng’s brow furrowed deeply, his cloudy mind slowly beginning to turn. After a long moment, he muttered, “Five or six years old, over a decade ago… Could it be… I think I know!”

Suddenly, Huang Sheng slapped the table, shouting, his face flushed with rage.