The next day, the research and treatment of the edema condition officially began. Guan Xing was placed in charge of the entire treatment process. Even Stephenti, the chairman, only came by from time to time—he had far too many responsibilities. In fact, he had just delivered the good news to the presidential office and had even received commendation.
Guan Xing, Yibi, and Boles formed the core working team. They conducted a thorough examination of every aspect of the patient's physical condition. Beyond instrumental diagnostics, Guan Xing also took the pulse and examined the acupuncture points, sparing no detail. This was crucial for accurately determining the nature of the illness.
Once immersed in work, Guan Xing entered a state of total focus. His mind was free of distractions. The true inner energy within his body flowed like invisible threads, penetrating the patient's meridians like liquid, slowly probing for the information he needed to grasp.
Yibi and Boles only saw Guan Xing drenched in sweat, his expression tense, his hands moving steadily and smoothly across the patient's body. They dared not speak. From head to toe, he missed nothing. Some of the data he perceived were even more precise and detailed than what the most advanced instruments could detect.
"So this is Chinese kung fu… this is the mysterious medical art of the East," Boles said with a laugh when he noticed Yibi's stunned expression. "Mr. Yibi, do you understand what you're seeing?"
In truth, Boles himself had only witnessed it twice before. He couldn't fully comprehend its profundity either, but he knew how extraordinary this medical art was.
Sweat also appeared on Yibi's face. He shook his head repeatedly and whispered, "No, no… this looks like the tricks of a street charlatan. Does it really work?"
That had been exactly what Boles thought the first time he saw it. But the final result had shocked him. With that experience behind him, he would never doubt it again. He raised a finger and shook it firmly. "This is the most profound medical art in the world. Mr. Yibi, please believe me—and my friend Xing. He is absolutely the best."
Guan Xing had no time to listen to their chatter. His hands carefully explored the patient's condition. The fluids inside the body were indeed surging chaotically, showing clear signs of abnormal mutation. Yet within the patient's body, no physical cause could be found. Mental aberration was the only breach.
Guan Xing was convinced his original inference had been correct. What remained was proof.
He immediately activated the Guan-style heart method. A fiery current of energy, combined with the heart-penetrating techniques from the medical canon, once again entered the patient's body, soothing the patient's mental world. In ancient times, such an independently created form of mental therapy would have been a peerless invention. Even now, as Guan Xing employed it, he felt the marvelous fusion of cultivation techniques and medicine.
The patient's turbulent emotions gradually subsided, like floodwaters released and rushing away. When Guan Xing withdrew his hands and gathered his energy, the previously terrifyingly bloated body had nearly slimmed down by half. A thick layer of moisture covered the patient's skin, and even the plain clothing he wore was completely soaked.
"Amazing, Xing! This must be the divine medical technique you perfected in seclusion!" Boles forgot all about the need for silence in the ward and shouted excitedly.
With that outburst, the patient lying on the bed suddenly let out faint, threadlike groans. For patients who had been kept alive solely by nutrient solutions, this was nothing short of thunder. The doctors monitoring the screens immediately noticed the abnormality and shouted with joy.
"The patient is regaining consciousness—he's about to wake up!"
Though the patient's body was still swollen, it was no longer horrifying. The doctors outside the glass door gasped in amazement. Several visiting experts from the alliance were drawn over, and Stephenti was overjoyed. He quickly ordered the most renowned psychological specialists to enter and begin guiding the patient's mental state.
Amid the praise and congratulations, Guan Xing knew the situation was far from optimistic. He said gravely, "Don't celebrate too early. The patient's condition isn't stable yet. Although I can make him regain consciousness using special methods, if his mind sinks too deeply and fails to achieve peace during his lucid periods, then by tomorrow the edema will worsen even more. At that point, it could truly become a liquid bomb."
All the smiles and excitement instantly turned into shock. Yibi asked, "Xing, didn't the swelling subside? Can the human body really swell again like a tide? What if we reduce their water intake?"
Guan Xing smiled faintly. "No. The human body needs water—it absolutely cannot be reduced. And even if you give them not a single drop, they can still absorb it from the air. Don't forget what water is made of. The air contains large amounts of it, and once inside the body, it can form water molecules."
At that, everyone's mood grew heavy again, completely swayed by Guan Xing's words and actions.
Stephenti stepped forward to comfort them. "Everyone, don't worry. Xing, we all believe in you. You can definitely help these two patients recover, right?"
Guan Xing smiled, sunlight seeming to bloom across his face. At that moment, everyone felt his confidence. He said softly, "I'll do everything I can."
The next day, the situation was indeed very different. After intensive communication and treatment by the psychiatric doctors, one of the patients showed clear improvement. The fluid in his body had dropped by fifty percent. Although he still appeared swollen, he could already get out of bed and, with assistance, walk slowly.
The other patient, however, showed no improvement at all. On the contrary, the fluid Guan Xing had helped remove the day before surged back overnight, becoming even more terrifying than before. His legs were like balloons filled with water; with the lightest tap, one could hear dull, booming sounds.
Before dawn, Guan Xing was awakened by the on-duty doctors. The patient was indeed at risk of bursting. In just one hour, his body had accumulated another liter of water and was now approaching the maximum limit the human body could endure. If it continued at this rate, the fluid inside could explode at any moment.
Not long after Guan Xing arrived, Yibi and Boles also rushed in. Soon after, a large number of observers hurried over as well. For them, this was a rare experience. Each was a top-tier doctor in their own country, and none could guarantee they would never encounter such a case. They didn't want to miss a single step of the treatment.
"Xing… will this patient really explode like a bomb?" Yibi asked nervously, looking at the increasingly agonized patient, then at Guan Xing, who was bent over examining him. Even Boles felt the same. The patient was now so swollen he looked like an overinflated balloon, ready to burst at any second.
Guan Xing didn't answer. Only after calmly completing his examination did he raise his head. At that moment, old Stephenti also arrived, still wearing his pajamas and slippers, clearly having rushed over.
"Xing, how is it?"
Before Guan Xing could reply, the psychiatrist spoke first. "The patient is refusing mental communication. He seems to have lost the will to live."
Guan Xing added, "That won't do. The death of the mind is even more terrifying than the death of the body. The accumulated fluid in his body has already mutated, forming powerful internal energy. If I'm not mistaken, a water bomb has already taken shape inside him."
"There really is a water bomb?"
"Will the patient be blown to pieces?"
"How powerful would the explosion be?"
Even at such an early hour, the atmosphere was intense, filled with questions from every observing doctor.
"Xing, is there any way to try again—to let the patient stay conscious a bit longer?" Stephenti asked urgently.
Guan Xing pondered for a moment, then said, "I can try one last time. But if mental communication still fails, the patient will need to be transferred to a special ward."
Stephenti naturally understood what a special ward meant. It was like the case Guan Xing had once treated—the madman with cerebral mutation, whose body possessed immense strength and no sense of pain. A slight emotional fluctuation could turn him deadly. Such patients had to be isolated in reinforced concrete rooms, with no close contact.
Everyone except Guan Xing withdrew behind the glass.
From his clothing, he took out the tools he always carried: two surgical scalpels and thirty-six silver needles. Spreading his fingers, he gently stroked the patient's overly swollen arm a few times. His hand moved like the wind, and three silver needles flashed out. In the blink of an eye, they were already embedded in three major acupoints on the arm.
Then, without any visible motion, a scalpel gleaming with cold light was in his hand.
With a flick through the air, a shallow cut appeared on the artery at the patient's wrist. Blood spurted out—but it wasn't bright red. It looked diluted, as if mixed with a large amount of clear water.
The blood formed bubbles. Each bubble burst with a popping sound like firecrackers. Several of the first bubbles floated into the air, and with sharp cracks, a fluorescent light tube shattered.
Guan Xing's blade rose and fell. Every bubble of blood-water that rose was split open by the scalpel, turning into droplets that splashed onto the floor, staining a large area red.