Eternal Life: Talent Grows with Age-Chapter 48: Gain and Loss, Loss and Gain

The next day was Rest and Bathing.

Lu Chang’sheng finished practicing Flood Stake in the courtyard and went to knock on the door alone.

Soon after, he saw the visitor.

An old man whose hair and beard were all white, dressed in coarse cloth, face covered in age spots—it was clear life hadn’t given him many good days.

This man was called Wu Ji Yong, a country doctor introduced by Liang Yun.

Country doctors had no background or lineage—everything was learned by trial and error. If they picked up some genuine skills, it was all down to fate and their own insight.

Ultimately, every craft in this world keeps its gate, making it incredibly hard for those at the bottom to step through.

"Little master, my skills aren’t all that great. If you learn from me, you might just be wasting your time!" Wu Ji Yong said.

"It’s no problem! Over by West Gate, Doctor Wu, you’ve saved so many lives. There’s no way your skills are lacking."

Lu Chang’sheng smiled, asked Li Nangua to make some tea, and handed it over with both hands.

He knew that when learning a craft, the worst was a master hiding his talents. Even if the other’s position was far beneath his own, if the man held back out of self-interest, he’d never know. So, he made sure to offer enough respect—and benefit—to those with skills.

"Master Wu, you should know I’m This Year’s Child Scholar. About other matters, maybe I can’t promise, but getting you a practicing license inside the city won’t be hard!"

On hearing this, Wu Ji Yong’s face lit up with excitement; he grabbed Lu Chang’sheng’s hand and just wouldn’t let go.

"Really?"

"Really!"

With Lu Chang’sheng’s answer, any small schemes Wu Ji Yong had vanished instantly.

For people like him, teaching their medical technique was as good as cutting off their own flesh. If not for Liang Yun’s and Lu Chang’sheng’s position, he’d probably have cursed and chased them off. Even now, coming over, he was planning to teach halfheartedly—if, after three or five years, the pupil showed no results, he’d likely give up.

But at this moment, he was troubled instead, worried that Lu Chang’sheng’s talent wasn’t enough—if it took him ten years to master it, Wu Ji Yong would die of frustration.

Looks like he’d better give it everything he’s got!

Thinking this, he bent down and lifted up his garment. From a pocket sewn into the lining, he pulled out a thick book.

"All my years of medical experience are pretty much in here. Little master, for a beginner, you should read it well!"

One was eager to teach, the other desperate to learn—they got right to it.

The medical book Wu Ji Yong authored was called Anshi Book, meaning stability for the world.

But the text wasn’t all from one man—Lu Chang’sheng guessed it had probably been written by several country doctors over the years, passed down until it reached Wu Ji Yong.

Most of it was records of diseases they’d seen—some with no cure, some cured but only for a while, unsure which medicine had been effective.

Other times, one person could heal the patient; another tried and failed.

"Medical technique—it’s no simple matter!"

Lu Chang’sheng studied Anshi Book closely, committing each bit to memory.

With his genius-level reading talent, his thinking was quick, memory scary sharp. One read-through he’d remember part, more times he’d remember more.

He figured in ten days or so, he’d have most of Anshi Book memorized.

Just as he was thinking about it, hurried footsteps came from outside.

He looked up and saw someone pulling Wu Ji Yong out through the nearly open door.

"What’s with all the secretive business?"

He frowned and scolded.

"Ah? No, nothing!"

A man forced a nervous smile and stepped out from behind the door.

But Lu Chang’sheng could see the anxiety and panic in his eyes.

"Out with it, Mi. You can’t fool me like that!" Lu Chang’sheng’s face looked bad.

"It’s really nothing, just someone down below got hurt by accident, so I came to get Doctor Wu to take a look!"

Seeing the man still denying it, Lu Chang’sheng turned his head to shout into the house, "Nangua!"

No answer!

Lu Chang’sheng strode inside and opened Li Nangua’s room; the place was totally empty. Glancing at a spot on the wall, he couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation.

Where a bow and arrows used to hang, now it was empty!

"After all this time, you may not have picked up many other skills, but hiding things from me—you’ve gotten pretty damn good!"

He went over to another spot, took down a different bow, and said coldly to the man, "Take me there!"

Mi Youtian shuddered all over—he had forgotten all about Zhao Hu and the others’ instructions, and nodded furiously.

The three of them were about to head out when a chill swept over them.

"Rain again."

Lu Chang’sheng looked up, then turned and quickly came back with two oil-paper umbrellas.

"Only two umbrellas. You’ll just have to make do." he said.

As they walked, Mi Youtian started to explain.

Someone really was hurt, but not by accident—it was the Three Red Gang, Zhao Hu, and others fighting the Shaving Knife Gang.

At this, Lu Chang’sheng turned to them and said, "You two go on ahead, I’ll catch up."

"Little master, where are you going?" Mi Youtian couldn’t help but ask.

He knew that right now, Zhao Hu, Liang Yun, and the others all took Lu Chang’sheng very seriously. They’d even kept the fight with Shaving Knife Gang secret from him—didn’t want him getting hurt.

Now that the secret was out, at least with their protection, there was some guarantee of safety. So when Lu Chang’sheng wanted to split off, Mi Youtian started to panic.

"South Gate, Black Mountain Camp!"

Lu Chang’sheng didn’t break stride, the umbrella splashing through the rain before vanishing into the mist.

Seeing this, Mi Youtian hesitated, but could only hurry off with Wu Ji Yong.

It was already night; waste any more time and it’d be curfew.

······

Black Mountain Camp, South Gate drill ground.

A figure was sprawled lazily on the steps, tapping his broadsword lightly against the ground—clang, clang.

"Master Wei, the boys have sharpened their blades. Should we head out now?"

A camp guard sidled up, trying to please him.

Wei Feng smacked his lips, stood, about to say something, when a voice came from outside.

"This Year’s Child Scholar Lu Chang’sheng, here to pay respects to Lord Wei!"

"This Year’s Child Scholar Lu Chang’sheng?" Wei Feng grinned, looking at the armored man next to him: "See? He timed it just right!"

"Then best ignore him. He clearly doesn’t respect you, Master Wei!" the armored man said hurriedly.

This morning, the Three Red Gang’s Liang Yun came by too, seeking an audience with Wei Feng, using Lu Chang’sheng’s name for a little financial transaction. The goal: during tonight’s curfew, make sure to avoid the Traveler’s Lodge area.

Wei Feng hadn’t refused.

But no one knew, deep down Wei Feng held his own set of scales.

If Lu Chang’sheng, the actual child scholar, showed up in person, Wei Feng would take care of everything himself. Too bad it was only Liang Yun who came.

Which made his attitude an issue.

"Forget it, let’s hear what he has to say!"

Wei Feng replied coolly.

Moments later, the door opened, and an oil-paper umbrella came slowly out of the rain.

When the umbrella folded, revealing the young face beneath, Wei Feng couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Damn young face!

The surly temper in his chest faded a bit.

Not because he pitied the young—he knew youth meant potential.

For those who might climb even higher, he was always warmer than with old child scholars on their last legs.

But—that was it.

If Lu Chang’sheng didn’t give him an answer worth his while, he’d stick to the rules and ride out with his men.

Unexpectedly, the youth skipped all unnecessary talk. He went straight to it: "Tonight, all Three Red Gang profits go to Lord Wei!"

"From now on, ten percent of Three Red Gang profits belong to Lord Wei!"

Wei Feng’s eyes widened in disbelief at the young man in front of him.