The wind whipped past Huo Yuhao's face, a cool balm against the fire of urgency in his chest. The chaotic symphony of the market square faded behind him, replaced by the frantic, rhythmic pounding of his own feet against the stone-paved streets.
He was not running with the full, soul-powered speed he was capable of; he was pacing himself, his Spiritual Detection spread wide like an invisible net, tracking the faint, desperate trail of Jiang Nannan's aura as she fled through the labyrinthine alleys of Heaven Dou City.
Her panic was a palpable thing, a frantic, discordant note in the city's hum. It was a feeling he knew all too well. It was the sound of a heart breaking, the terror of watching a loved one slip away into the final, silent dark.
He followed the trail relentlessly, his mind a tumultuous sea of memory and resolve. The sight of the fallen grilled fish, a simple, mundane tragedy, had been the catalyst. It had torn open a scar on his soul he thought had begun to heal, exposing the raw, aching grief for his own mother.
He saw her face in his mind's eye—gentle, frail, her love a flickering candle against the cold wind of their hardship, a candle that had ultimately been snuffed out by illness and despair.
His pursuit led him to the medical district, a quieter part of the city where the air smelled faintly of bitter herbs and clean linen. He saw Jiang Nannan burst through the doors of a modest but well-kept building with a wooden sign that read "Spring Dew Pavilion - Physician Zhao."
Huo Yuhao slowed, catching his breath, before following her inside.
The interior was clean, orderly, and filled with the low murmurs of worried families and the quiet, authoritative voices of healers. He followed the echo of Jiang Nannan's distress down a quiet corridor, towards a closed room at the very end.
Through the thin wooden door, he could hear voices, one laced with desperate, pleading sobs, the other heavy with a weary, professional sadness.
"Please, Elder Zhao! There must be something! Anything!" Jiang Nannan's voice was broken, stripped of its usual aloof grace, reduced to the raw plea of a terrified daughter.
A deep, tired sigh answered her. "Miss Jiang, I have told you. We have done all we can. Her heart is a flickering candle flame. The congenital weakness in its structure, the one she has managed her entire life, has finally reached its breaking point. Her life force is guttering out."
The door creaked open as Jiang Nannan stumbled out, her face a pale, tear-streaked mask of utter devastation. She leaned against the wall for support, her slender body trembling. An old man in a physician's robes followed her out, his face etched with deep lines of compassion and fatigue. This was Elder Zhao.
"The only thing that could offer a temporary reprieve," the physician continued, his voice gentle but firm, "is a Profound Heart Pill. It could forcibly stimulate her heart's vitality, granting her a few more months, perhaps even a year of life. But even that is a temporary measure, a way to borrow time that must be paid back with interest."
"A Profound Heart Pill?" Jiang Nannan repeated, her voice latching onto the name like a drowning woman to a piece of driftwood. "Where can I get one? I will pay any price! I will do anything!"
Elder Zhao shook his head slowly, his expression full of pity. "Child, the pill itself is not a legendary elixir. A skilled alchemist could concoct it. The true difficulty lies in the ingredients. It requires a hundred-year-old Azure Water Fern, a hundred-year-old Crimson Heart Grass, and a hundred-year-old Golden Sun Petal. These are not treasures one can simply buy in the market. They grow in dangerous, remote locations. Finding them, even for a powerful Soul Master, could take months. Time… that your mother simply does not have."
The last sliver of hope drained from Jiang Nannan's face, leaving behind a hollow, empty despair. She slid down the wall, her legs giving out from under her, and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent, wracking sobs.
It was at that moment that Huo Yuhao stepped forward, his soft-soled boots making almost no sound on the polished wooden floor.
His sudden appearance startled them both. Elder Zhao looked up, his brows furrowing in confusion. Jiang Nannan lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes widening in disbelief.
"You…?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "The… the grilled fish boy? What are you doing here?"
Elder Zhao's professional demeanor took over. He looked at the handsome, serious-faced youth, who couldn't be more than eleven or twelve. "Child, this is a place of healing, not a marketplace. If you are lost, the exit is that way."
Huo Yuhao ignored them. His full attention was on the room behind them, the room where a life was fading. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, and the world dissolved.
His Spiritual Detection, now a familiar and powerful sense, swept through the wall, through the air, and into the woman lying on the bed. He saw her. She was beautiful, even in her frail, unconscious state, her features holding the same gentle grace as her daughter's, softened and worn by time.
But his spiritual sense saw more. It saw the life force in her body, a faint, flickering light. And it saw her heart.
Around the organ, the intricate network of meridians, the pathways meant to carry life-giving Soul Power and blood, were a tangled, chaotic mess. Some were too narrow, constricted and choked. Others were too wide, leaking vital energy. It was a congenital flaw, a structural defect in the very blueprint of her life. It was this chaotic flow that was starving her heart, causing it to fail.
'I see the problem,' he thought, a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach. 'But… I don't know how to fix it. The pathways are so delicate. A single wrong move, a fraction too much power, and they would be destroyed completely. Her heart would stop instantly.'
The knowledge from the book, as vast as it was, did not contain the intricate medical knowledge for a flaw this specific, this delicate. He felt a surge of the old helplessness. He had the power, but not the skill.
He retreated into the sanctuary of his Spiritual Sea.
'Brother Skydream!' he projected, his mental voice sharp with urgency.
'What is it now, kid?' Skydream's voice boomed back, laced with a sleepy annoyance. 'Did your new girlfriend run out of pastries? I swear, you humans and your constant drama…'
'There's no time for jokes!' Huo Yuhao snapped. 'A woman is dying. Her daughter is outside, heartbroken. It's her heart. The meridians around it are… wrong. I can see it, but I don't know how to fix it without killing her.' He quickly relayed the full, detailed image from his Spiritual Detection.
There was a moment of silence. Then, he felt Skydream's own immense spiritual energy piggybacking on his own, extending out into the real world.
'Hmmph. Let me see…' Skydream's voice was suddenly focused, the arrogance replaced by a profound, analytical power. 'Ah. I see. A congenital malformation of the cardiac meridian network. Tsk, tsk. Such shoddy mortal craftsmanship. Her life force is leaking like a sieve. Pathetic.'
'Can you fix it?' Huo Yuhao pressed, his hope surging.
'Me? Fix it?' Skydream scoffed. 'Of course I can fix it. For a being of my intellect, this is like untangling a piece of string. The solution is simple. You need to use an extremely fine, controlled stream of Soul Power, guided by a high-density spiritual will, to gently nudge each pathway back into its correct configuration, widening the constrictions and sealing the leaks, one by one. It requires a level of precision that would make a god weep.'
Huo Yuhao's hope plummeted. 'But… I can't do that. My control isn't that fine. My spiritual will isn't strong enough to manipulate my Soul Power with that kind of microscopic delicacy.'
'No, you can't,' Skydream agreed cheerfully. 'You'd blow her heart up like a water-skin. But you seem to be forgetting something, kid.'
A brilliant, crystalline light pulsed in Huo Yuhao's Spiritual Sea.
'I can.'
Huo Yuhao's mind reeled. 'You…?'
'Of course, me!' Skydream declared, his voice puffed up with pride. 'My spiritual will is that of a million-year-old beast! It's infinitely more powerful and precise than your little fledgling spirit. And I am your Soul Spirit. We are connected. I can't generate Soul Power, but I can control yours. Give me the reins, kid. Lend me your Soul Power, and I will be the hand that guides it. I will be the surgeon. You just need to be the scalpel.'
The plan was audacious, unbelievable, and their only hope. Trust, absolute and unconditional, flooded Huo Yuhao.
'Do it,' he said without a moment's hesitation.
Back in the real world, only a few seconds had passed. Jiang Nannan and Elder Zhao were still staring at him, their expressions a mixture of confusion and growing irritation.
Huo Yuhao opened his eyes, the deep blue of his irises now shining with a calm, unshakeable confidence that seemed utterly out of place on a boy his age.
He looked at Elder Zhao, then at Jiang Nannan, and bowed his head respectfully. "Forgive my intrusion," he began, his voice quiet but carrying a strange, compelling authority. "My name is Huo Yuhao. I… I believe I can help her."
Elder Zhao let out a weary sigh. "Child, your heart is in the right place, but this is not a common cold. This is a matter of life and death, far beyond the understanding of a layman."
"Her condition is a congenital malformation of the cardiac meridian network," Huo Yuhao stated calmly, perfectly reciting the words Skydream had given him. "The primary circumflex artery's meridian is constricted, while the posterior interventricular pathways are leaking vital essence, causing chronic cardiac insufficiency which has now entered a terminal phase."
The physician's jaw dropped. His eyes widened in utter disbelief. The boy had just described the patient's rare, complex condition with a level of detail and accuracy that he himself, after decades of study, had only been able to diagnose.
"How… how could you possibly know that?" he stammered, his professional composure completely shattered.
"I have… a unique perceptive ability," Huo Yuhao said, deliberately understating his power. He then looked at Jiang Nannan, his gaze softening with a genuine empathy. "Miss Jiang, I understand your fear. I would not ask you to trust me if there were any other choice. But the physician himself said there is no time. Please, allow me to try. I swear on my life, I will not harm her."
Jiang Nannan stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and desperate hope. This boy, this fish-seller, was speaking of things she couldn't comprehend, but the look in his eyes… it was not the look of a liar. It was the look of someone who had seen the same pain she was feeling now.
She turned to Elder Zhao, her eyes pleading for guidance.
The old physician was wrestling with a lifetime of medical doctrine against the impossible reality before him. The boy's diagnosis was not just accurate; it was perfect. The logic was undeniable. The patient was dying. Their methods had failed. What did they have to lose?
He took a deep breath, his decision made. "Miss Jiang," he said, his voice now firm, resolute. "In all my years, I have never seen anything like this. But his diagnosis is correct. Miracles are rare, child, but to reject one when it stands before you… that is the greatest foolishness of all. I believe… we should let him try."
Tears streamed down Jiang Nannan's face as she gave a single, shuddering nod. It was a leap of faith into an abyss of the unknown, but it was the only leap she had left.
Huo Yuhao gave her a small, reassuring smile before turning and walking into the room.
The woman on the bed was breathing in shallow, ragged gasps. Her life was a thread, stretched taut and ready to snap.
Huo Yuhao moved to the head of the bed. He did not touch her chest. He simply raised his right hand and gently placed the tips of his index and middle fingers on her forehead, at the point between her eyebrows.
He closed his eyes.
'Alright, Brother Skydream,' he projected into his mind. 'She is in your hands.'
'Heh. Relax, kid. Watch a master at work.'
A power unlike any other surged within him. He felt his own dense, potent Soul Power, the power of a Soul Grandmaster, being drawn out, but he was not controlling it. It was being guided, piloted by an infinitely more skilled hand.
Inside the mother's body, the miracle began.
A stream of pure, azure Soul Power, finer than a spider's silk, entered her body through Huo Yuhao's fingertips. Guided by Skydream's million-year spiritual will, it did not barge through her system. It flowed with an impossible grace, navigating the complex web of her meridians without disturbing a single one.
It reached the chaotic, tangled mess around her heart.
Jiang Nannan and Elder Zhao watched from the doorway, their breath held, their hearts pounding. They saw nothing but the boy standing silently, his fingers resting gently on the patient's forehead.
But if they could have seen with his eyes, they would have witnessed a divine surgery.
The needle-thin stream of Soul Power, acting like a celestial scalpel and suture all in one, began its work. It approached the first constricted pathway. It did not force it open. Instead, it gently spiraled around it, its energy vibrating at a specific frequency, coaxing the meridian to relax, to widen, to return to its natural, healthy state.
Then it moved to a leaking pathway. The stream split into a dozen even finer threads, weaving together like a master basket maker, patching the microscopic tears, sealing the leaks, reinforcing the fragile meridian walls with a layer of pure, life-giving energy.
It was a slow, painstaking process. Untangling one knot, sealing one leak, then moving to the next. Skydream was truly a master at work.
Minutes stretched into an hour. Huo Yuhao's face grew pale, and beads of sweat dripped from his chin. Providing the raw fuel for this miracle was draining him completely. But he stood firm, a living conduit for the power that was saving a life.
Finally, with a last, gentle pulse, the final pathway was restructured. The chaotic network was now an orderly, perfectly functioning system. The blood and life force, no longer impeded or leaking, began to flow to the heart in a strong, steady rhythm.
The organ, starved for so long, seemed to take a deep, shuddering breath. It gave a single, strong, healthy beat. And then another. And another.
The woman's shallow, ragged gasps softened, deepening into the slow, even, peaceful rhythm of deep sleep. A faint, healthy pink flush began to return to her pale cheeks.
Huo Yuhao withdrew his fingers, his body swaying with exhaustion.
The room was silent, save for the sound of healthy, even breathing.
Elder Zhao rushed forward, his hands trembling as he checked the woman's pulse. His eyes went wide. It was strong. Steady. He placed a hand on her chest, channeling his own soul power to check her condition.
The chaotic mess he had felt with his Soul Power before was gone. In its place was a perfect, textbook example of a healthy cardiac system.
He stumbled back, his face a mask of utter, mind-shattering disbelief. "It's… it's gone," he whispered, his voice trembling with awe. "The malformation… it's completely gone. Not just treated… but cured. Permanently. This… this is not medicine. This is a divine miracle!"
He turned to look at Huo Yuhao, his eyes filled with a reverence one would reserve for a god.
But Huo Yuhao's attention was on Jiang Nannan.
She stood frozen in the doorway, her hand over her mouth, tears streaming silently down her face. They were not tears of sorrow or despair. They were tears of pure, unadulterated, overwhelming joy and gratitude.
She looked at the pale, exhausted boy who had sold her fish just an hour ago, the boy who had walked in and performed an impossible act of healing. She opened her mouth to speak, to thank him, but no words came out.
Instead, she simply dropped to her knees, her body overcome with an emotion too vast for words, and bowed her head to the floor in the deepest, most profound gesture of respect and gratitude a person could offer.